[Willas] is back on his feet the next day, the ache in his leg eased to a manageable (bearable) level, and it is with his mobility restored that he encourages Sansa to break her fast in the gardens with him.
She curls her arm through his and insists on carrying the basket out behind Aldwin, folding chairs balanced on his shoulder and matching table under his other arm. She still watches everything as they pass with those wide, astonished eyes, and he loves her innocence.
“I still don’t understand how we can make it more beautiful,” she confides once they’re settled in the arboretum, sunshine splintering through the thick veil of leaves above their heads. “Everything here is just so… I can’t see how we could improve it.”
Boys with your eyes and girls with your hair, he thinks idly before catching himself. He can only hope that he didn’t say that aloud. It strikes him though, after that, how very beautiful their children will be.