[WM] 29.6 -- Willful

It's the set of her mouth that tells James something is amiss. Normally in motion, expressive, laughing, talking smiling, they're pressed together in a stubborn line that doesn't leave much room for negotiation. He wants to tell her from the wisdom of eight that at eleven years old, she's always going to have to be the one to negotiate, unless its with him and Stephen, who she can boss around as much as she pleases. He thinks about offering that, to placate her--dragging Stephen out into the garden in back and telling him they have to be soldiers guarding the Queen or some other dangerous game sure to get all three of them whipped if their father hears the word "Queen" cross their lips. But he's in the printing press, and so probably wouldn't hear over the machines, anyway.

"Come on," she snaps, before he can offer anything, however. He and Stephen both leap up obediently, but she gives Stephen a look. "You stay, Stephen. You can't come. You're too little."

His lower lip quivers, and James gives her an upset look, that she returns with a flash of growing impatience that he knows bodes ill for both of them if someone doesn't calm her down. "We're going out?" he asks quietly, and she nods curtly.

( James kneels down beside the younger boy.  )