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Harreld stood in the doorway despite the cold and watched Ginna's receding form walk away under the night sky. When she slipped into the Hall, he closed the door and sat down to his yet uneaten food.
He relived his conversation with Ginna repeatedly as he chewed and swallowed, polished a blade, cleaned up, and sorted things to end the night.
He felt less heavy-hearted than he had all day. He found, to his surprise, that he felt rather light-hearted, even hopeful.
What are you hopeful for, Harreld? he asked himself as he swept the floor with shovel and broom.
He had promised Ginna that if a way could be found, he would walk that road with her. He didn't know of any way that did not honor both her father and her, but if one could be found, then all could be well. What if it never came? He had no idea. But somehow he could not be bothered to think of that. There had to be a way. He was convinced of it, if only because he had promised and she had shown her acceptance of his promise by welcoming his embrace. Maybe it could happen yet!
Though he had no idea how, it did not seem to matter. He left his smithy and crossed the yard to the men's rooms, and fell asleep shortly after lying down.
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