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Javan sat on a stool by the kitchen table. Rowena was silent - she often was quiet - as she washed the dishes and Javan found it very trying. Finally, he heaved a sigh and stood up. Rowena watched him like a hawk as he paced from the window to the stone hearth and to the door and to the window again.
“Rowena,” he said finally. “What do you suppose they’re talking about?” He looked up at her, but she, not one to mince words, said nothing - she didn’t know, why waste breath saying so?
“I did an awful thing, you know,” Javan continued, not having waited long enough for the pause to become awkward. “I was going to be sent home, but I may have changed his mind. I hope,” he said as a sudden thought seemed to strike him, “that he does not decide to do something terrible.” Rowena still didn’t answer him. Javan stopped to kneel on one of the stools and put his elbows on the table and cradle his chin in his hands. “Have you ever done something so terribly bad and wondered what was going to happen to you?”
Rowenna’s hands stopped in the sudsy water and her head came up partially. But before she could answer they heard footsteps in the corridor and a moment later, Thornden strode into the kitchen. Javan scrambled up to his feet, somewhat alarmed at the brooding expression on Thornden’s face.
“Come on, Javan.”
The boy didn’t move immediately. “Am I going back?” he asked.
“I don’t know yet, come on.”
Javan started forward, slowly. “When will you know?”
“You’ll find out soon enough!” Thornden said sharply. “For now, all I know is that you’re staying here for the night, so get upstairs, clean yourself up, and get in bed.”
Javan looked sour. He wanted his question answered for real. He didn’t want to go to bed, and he wanted something to eat. But the look on Thornden’s face told him it would be foolish to say any of these things, so he didn’t and went passed Thornden into the corridor.
“Goodnight, Rowena,” Thornden said, and turned to follow his brother.
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