Henry gently cradled his wife's face in his hands and he wiped her tears away even though more were threatening to spill onto her freckled cheeks.
"I should go to him," Henry said, his eyebrows lowered and his voice strained.
He had no desire to leave Irene behind in this state but he didn't know if he could be strong for her while also dealing with his own grief.
The two of them heard footsteps down the wooden floor of the hallway and turned to see Arne giving them a complicated expression. His jaw was tense as he tried to come to grips with the thought of having to be the man of the house.
His father was his idol. All he wanted to do was be as successful of a warrior as him. He felt that there was still much to learn and yet the world was taking him away from him.
