Hanna was beside herself. So much so, that she didn't even notice that half her bites of casserole were flying from her awkwardly held fork and into her lap where Blotchy quickly did away with the evidence.
"Papa, you were right," she was saying. "Lord Archer is the best in the kingdom! He can shoot faster than anybody. And farther. And he said I was very good. One of the best learners he's ever seen!" She was clearly still basking in the praise.
Brigan's food sat barely touched as he held his smile for his daughter. She never needed to know that her innocent chatter was driving a recent pain even deeper into his chest.
"And guess what?" Hanna practically bounced, sending another piece of casserole tumbling into Blotchy's eager mouth. Her father bit back a sigh. He was going to have to ask Tess to give her a snack before bed in addition to rubbing salve on the blisters between the tiny archer's fingers. A sudden flare of anger rose in Brigan, and it was a relief to find a true reason for his ill feelings toward Archer. Apparently the man had forgotten that early trainees didn't have the proper calluses for extensive practice.
"What, darling?" he asked dutifully as she watched him expectantly.
"Lord Archer is Lady Fire's best friend! He's known her since she was younger than me. They grew up next door to one another. I wish I had a friend that lived right next door. And he taught her how to shoot too."
The commander's face froze as Hanna chattered on about Archer and Fire, excited that her newest friend was already well acquainted with the woman she adored. The woman that they both loved, he just barely admitted to himself. And only so that he could beat the feeling down, remembering the expression of purest joy that had lit Fire's face when she had greeted her lover that afternoon.
With his plain face and average build, how had he even hoped for a chance against Archer's handsome aristocratic features? And Archer's reputation with women preceded him. His bed was not one left lightly.
He was too busy wrestling with thoughts of the beautiful woman whose rooms overlooked their little home to notice that Hanna had gone quiet until she gripped his shoulder to pull herself into his lap. Brigan gave her a boost and settled her small body against his.
She patted his cheek, her dark eyes grave. "I said don't worry, Papa."
He smiled to cover his confusion. "Worry about what, my warrior?"
"I really like Lord Archer. But I'll always like you better."
Another worry lit a panic within him. One day his little Hanna would turn her affections toward another man—or woman, and he would have to let her go. But for now, she was just his. Brigan wasn't sure what expression on his face had provoked such a reassurance, but he showed his appreciation by gathering her closer to him and burying his face in her hair, which smelled distinctly of hay and horse drool.
He wrinkled his nose.