"My dear daughter, have you been eating on time and listening to your mother... What's wrong?"
Joan rubbed the goose bumps on her arm. "That's too sappy..."
Who would have thought Harding, who spent all day in Leather Armor looking fierce, could be so tender with his family?
That was why Harding had waited until everyone else had left before coming over.
“Forget it. A father's Love isn't sappy, no matter how heartfelt it is.” Seeing Harding's embarrassment, Joan lowered her head and went on writing, hiding the envy on her face.
A father's Love was a distant thing to her. All she remembered was a tall, blurry figure who was always busy. Her younger self would sit nearby, and sometimes he would come over and say something in her ear that she couldn't make out, however hard she listened.
"...Don't hang around those bad boys so much. You're a girl; you ought to act like a girl... What's wrong, boss?"
"There's no room left."
Joan pointed at the parchment.
Harding gave her a sheepish grin. "Then never mind..."
Joan put down her quill, picked up the parchment, and shook it. "How long have you been away?"
"Five or six months, I think..."
"That long?" Joan stopped shaking the parchment. "Haven't you wanted to go back and visit?"
Harding said there were too many wolves and too little meat in the Broken Mining District, and the gangs were always fighting. It hadn't been easy to get in.
"Stick with the Freedom Gang, and I'll take you home for a visit someday," Joan promised.
"Thank you, boss!"
Lies were everywhere in a gang, but at least in that moment, Harding believed her.
"Give me the letters." Joan held out her hand to Harding.
"Boss, you've been working all night. I can