The year of our Lord, 1192
…He shrugged. “I haven’t been sleeping well since we got home.” He rolled the stem of the goblet in his hands. “Maybe I’m not settling in here like I should be.”
John was the one that had adjusted to life on campaign as if he’d belonged there all along. Home and hearth was going to take some doing for him. “Would you rather Zipporah and I were able to remain here?” Peter asked.
“No, of course not. You’ve earned the title and the lands.”
“But you’ll be the only noble in residence once I leave.”
He grunted an acknowledgment, which meant that Peter was hitting closer to the target. Their parents were gone and soon he would be moving on. Peter wouldn’t be very far away, but he and John had been together for nearly all of their lives, and it would be an adjustment for them both.
“We won’t be very far away,” Peter told him.
He got a nod out of John.
“I’ll miss you too.”
It took John a moment. “I’m not sure what I’ll do with myself here, to be honest.” He waved a hand. “I know there are lads to train and the running of the keep and the farms…”
But no family next to him at the high table, and no woman in his bed to love him—or challenge him as the case may be, which was what he needed. Peter felt for John. He needed someone beyond the ordinary…
Darcy Branwyn 
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