"Are you sure?"
Tristan nodded to his mother, his blue eyes wide as he stared up at her. Despite understanding that her child felt perfectly temperate, Glenda still pulled his coat closer to his chest and gently pushed his hat down to cover his face. For her, the temperature had nothing to do with it; anxiety and annoyance did. Anxiety because they still had twenty minutes until it was time to depart for their portkey, and annoyance because Rhys Nott had dared to attack them in the middle of the city just a few hours ago. Fortunately, Alice had been there....
Glenda glanced over at her friend, feeling nothing but brusque. Logically speaking, she knew she should be thankful that Alice was trained for things like this, and would make all the right decisions. Leaving Milan was without a doubt the safest option for Tristan at this point, but that didn't stop Glenda from feeling downright bitter about going back to England so soon. She wasn't ready yet, Tristan wasn't ready yet--- but there was no choice. They couldn't risk another attack: Tristan was too young, and soon the press might get wind of things, not to mention the location of their house might get revealed in the mix of it all. So, for the time being, back to England they went.
A sigh escaped her lips as she waited for another minute to pass by. She knew that this would be the time to talk with Alice, or at least something, but Glenda couldn't quite bring herself to turn and open her mouth to the other woman just yet.
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