"You have a habit of standing there," Henry said, his tone light as he moved further into the room. "Anyone would think you prefer observation to participation."
Julian did not immediately answer. His attention remained fixed on the garden below, where Eleanor and Lily sat together, the book open between them, their closeness unchanged.
"It is quieter," Julian replied at last.
Henry followed his line of sight without needing to be told what he was looking at. He came to stand beside him, though not too close, and for a moment, neither of them spoke.
"Well," Henry said after a pause, "they seems to have bonded far more quickly than one might have expected."
"If you mean that my sister has found someone that she likes more than her brother, then yes, I would agree."
"I mean that she has found someone she trusts," Henry returned. "And given your reaction to it, it would seem it was not what you wanted."
Julian did not look at him.
"Of course it was. Do you think I would rather my sister was alone?"
"No," Henry said, "but I know how it felt when Eleanor first made friends. It felt as though I was being replaced, and I shall assume you feel much the same."
"She is well cared for. That has always been the priority."
Henry let out a quiet breath that might almost have been a laugh, though there was little amusement in it.
"You speak as though she were an estate to be managed rather than a child who notices who sits beside her and who does not."
Julian’s gaze remained outward, though his voice lowered slightly.
"Do you honestly believe I do not see that? I am not angry that Lily is meeting other people, nor do I ever intend to treat her as a building and nothing more."
"I believe you see it," Henry replied. "I am less certain that you see the effect it has on her."
Julian was silent for a moment, his eyes still fixed on the garden. Lily had shifted closer to Eleanor again, pointing at something in the book.
"It matters," he continued. "I am speaking from experience. Eleanor never appreciated me making decisions for her, and that was my mistake. I hope to mend that eventually, but the first step towards that is us seeing firsthand what it is that we are doing."
Julian’s jaw tightened slightly.
"What I am doing is ensuring that nothing develops beyond what was agreed."
"And in doing so," Henry said evenly, "you have removed yourself from it entirely."
"That is not–" Julian began, then stopped, the rest of the sentence left unfinished as his attention returned fully to the scene below.
"She came toyoubefore," Henry said. "Your sister. Not always easily, not always with words, but she came all the same. You may not have known what to do, but that was of little consequence to her. What mattered was that you were there."
Julian exhaled slowly.
"And now she has a preference."
"No," Henry said. "Now she goes where she is answered without hesitation."
"You speak as though I have been careless."
"I speak as someone who has watched his sister recover from being treated as though she were optional," Henry said, his tone sharpening just slightly. "And I have no intention of watching it happen again, whether the cause is cruelty or caution."
Julian turned his head then, his attention shifting to Henry fully for the first time. He was quite an intimidating man, but he was doing it for the right reasons. Even if it were not how Julian would have conducted himself, he understood it.
"You think I would treat her so carelessly."