Emyr's Smile Read Online Free PDF Page B

as a sign
that he was welcome. The work turned out to be far more demanding
than he’d expected, and he soon realized that it would only work if
he planned every detail in advance. That suited him. He might be
spontaneous in the way he lived his life, but he had always planned
his art meticulously.
    By the end of the first
week, he had produced scaled down versions of what every wall
should look like and had started sketching the outlines straight
onto the plaster. Once the first few were done, Father Cian’s
volunteers set to work filling in the big blocks of sky and grass
as Heilyn moved on to the next outline. Some of the volunteers he
already knew from the inn, but even the strangers seemed friendly
enough. They were a mixed group of craftsfolk between jobs, retired
fishermen with stiff joints and quiet faith, and a bunch of young
mothers who had been fast friends for years and obviously saw this
as a chance to laugh together while their babies chuckled in the
corner of the shrine with Father Cian and his youngest girls.
Heilyn liked them all immensely, and they seemed to welcome him
with the same wry amusement that Elin showed him when he stumbled
down into the kitchen each morning.
    He told Emyr about
everything he was doing, and Emyr listened with a look of slight
bewilderment, as if he still couldn’t tell why Heilyn was there. He
listened, though, and Heilyn surprised him one evening reading a
book about portraiture. He set it down on the table as Heilyn
commented on the title, and said softly, “My grandfather was an
art-lover. You reminded me that I have his books.”
    In all, it seemed like
things were going perfectly, until Elin stopped him as he came in
one evening, and asked, with a chuckle, “So, what’s young Emyr
doing these days?”
    If Elin knew where he
was spending his evenings, the whole village did as well. Hopefully
Emyr wouldn’t mind. Well, he couldn’t change that. Airily, he said,
“Oh, he’s fine.”
    Elin snorted. “That boy
hasn’t been fine for years.” She narrowed her eyes at Heilyn. “You
be kind to him, hear me.”
    “Yes, Elin.”
    “So, is that old fright
Berwen still trying to wheedle the house out of him? Oh, and what
did he say to the captain of the Hwyad the other day.
I’ve never seen the old bastard leave in such a temper. Mind you,
young Emyr’s not as easily cheated as his father was, and we all
know how much profit the Hwyad used to make on a copper
run.”
    Heilyn blinked at her.
He’d not heard any of those names or stories before, even though
he’d been talking to Emyr every night. Or rather, he realized
guiltily, he’d been talking at Emyr. At no point had Emyr
shared anything about his own life or his day, and Heilyn had not
even thought to ask.
    “You’re supposed to
tell me when I’m being a selfish brat,” he blurted out as soon as
he crossed the threshold the next evening. “People normally tell
me!”
     
     

Chapter
5
     
    “DID YOU start this
conversation without me?” Emyr asked, looking puzzled.
    “You let me talk on and
on about myself!”
    Emyr shrugged, not
meeting Heilyn’s gaze. “It wasn’t a hardship to listen.”
    Heilyn couldn’t quite
tell if that had been intended as a compliment or no, so he marched
across to Emyr, and put his hands on his shoulders to stop him from
running away. “You need to share. So, how was your day?”
    Emyr shrugged, blushing
a little. “It was good.”
    “What made it
good?”
    He was looking a little
panicky. “I don’t really know. I made a profit on selling oats to
Briallen and, um, I don’t know—er, Dilys brought me honeycakes for
my lunch. There,” he finished, so triumphantly that Heilyn wanted
to kiss him.
    “It does sounds like a
good day,” he said instead. “We should do this again tomorrow. I
want to know.”
    “I’m not very practiced
at this, Heilyn,” Emyr confessed. “Talking about myself. I don’t
know what you want me to say.”
    “Anything you