Turns out Merry stopped in at the tavern in Bree while she was there. She wanted to forget her worries and ended up playing her harp until her fingertips bled. I tended them best I could. I wanted to lecture her, but one look at her face and I decided against it.
The child is miserable right now.
I fed her and sent her off to the nursery to care for Althessia. It'll give her something to think on other than her troublemaking friend and the girl Immalaine. It also gives me a break from the baby so I can sit back and write out the list of materials needed to repar the mill.
Not that I much wish to tally the cost of those repairs. But it must be done, and my father always did say if a thing needed doing to simply do it and be done. But right now, I'd rather chew on a nail. It'd be less painful than getting slapped with another reminder of my son's ineptitude.
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