She ignored his request to sit—he didn’t seem to notice—and fixed herself a bowl of Weetabix while he talked. By the time she sat down with her breakfast, Jonathan had finished his story and looked a little more settled, although there were bags under his eyes.

“We all made some silly decisions when we were young,” she said lightly.

A shadow crossed his eyes. “Aye, so we did.”

“In fact…” How did you bring up something like this? “Um, I think you asked me here today so we could talk about what happened when you were younger. With another Each-uisge. Right?”

Jonathan pursed his lips and looked down at his coffee. He’d barely touched it. It must be cold by now. “Not much to tell.”

He couldn’t be serious. Not much to tell about an encounter with a supernatural creature? Especially to the one person on this island who might understand?

“I don’t want to push,” she lied. “But it’d be nice to compare notes, right? We could learn something from each other.”

He shrugged. Just yesterday he’d said they should talk about this. What had changed? “Perhaps, perhaps not. Your situation’s completely different to mine.”

“Okay, but that doesn’t mean⁠—”

“Hæra’s different.”

The name sent a jolt through Madeleine’s body. The look in Jonathan’s eyes said he’d intended it to.

“I’ve seen how you are with each other,” he said. “I’d be blind not to. And she was different when she came in this morning…from your place.”

Madeleine’s face heated as surely as if she were back in front of that fireplace, with Hæra on top of her.

Jonathan gave a little smile. “Just so.”

“I…” She looked down into her coffee. Remember the joy, she told herself, remember how right it felt, but words only went so far. The old shame, kneaded into her soul by unkind hands, rose.

“No, no,” he said quickly. His hand covered her wrist while she clutched her coffee cup. “I’m happy for you both. I hope you are too? It’s not too hard, is it?”

Thin, almost translucent hairs covered Jonathan’s wrist and the back of his hands. That was something to look at, instead of into his eyes. “It’s all pretty unexpected.”

Jonathan snorted. “I’m sure. Look up, now. Our Hæra’s a good one, even if she is odd. And you’re all the world to her.”

At that, Madeleine did look up. Jonathan’s eyes were wide and earnest. His earlier exhaustion seemed to have vanished; he was much more like himself. At least, the self he’d become after Hæra came into his life.