I was jagged cuts and sharp fringes. Nobody wanted to hold me for too long. And I was perfectly content with that.
But moments like this…sometimes, I wished for the soft spirit of my aunt, for the power of my uncle, for the innocence of my cousin. For tenderness and sweetness, instead of the bitter shadows that clung to me.
“Come on, Rose—let’s go get dinner. We’ve done all we can for tonight,” my aunt’s voice, still tinged with laughter, sounded from the front of the shop. I turned to find her and Ragnar hand-in-hand, Ragnar’s free arm draped across his son’s thin shoulders.
I swallowed the lump in my throat. “Alright.” I walked to the far window, where the shop’s cat Spindley often perched, and gave her ears a good scratch. To my surprise, she leapt from my reach and strode across the floor to my aunt and uncle, her long tail swishing. She wound her lithe body between my uncle’s legs, brushing against him with a loud purr.
Ragnar laughed and ran his fingers through her fur. “Think she’ll miss me?”
My eyes snapped from the cat to his face. I forced a smile, but a sense of foreboding crept down my spine like icy fingers. Spindley never let anyone besides myself touch her.
I shook off the unease. It was ridiculous. Cats were fickle creatures—I was foolish for reading too much into her behavior.
But it felt like, for a moment, she was saying goodbye.
The next morningarrived with gray skies and biting winds. We hitched our two horses to the small carriage and loaded it with our baggage and supplies for the next month. The entire town had awoken with the dawn to gather in the main square to see us off, showering Ragnar with both words of encouragement and slander against the competing provinces.
“Finally, Feywood stands a chance at winning.”
“This is an old family recipe for increased eyesight and hearing—works every time, I swear!”
“We’re counting on you, Gregor.”
“Don’t forget—those Illusionists pricks can’t trick you if they can’t see you. If you get in a bind, go for the eyes, yeah?”
Interesting. I didn’t know that last part.
Ragnar accepted their words and gifts with a grand smile—ever the portrait of power and humility. I stayed hidden in the carriage, tired of the pointed stares and whispered remarks directed toward me.
“She’s not even his daughter.”
“Nothing but a bane on that entire family. She’ll ruin his chances, mark my words.”
“Did you heartwopeople have now fallen under the curse at her shop within the last year? Wonder if there’s something to it.”
“She’s been visiting that cursed Strider for the last two weeks. If she loves their kind so much, why doesn’t she join them?”
It made me roll my eyes. Honestly, did these people have nothing better to talk about?
Still, their words pricked something in me. Stinging and sharp, like a needle under my skin.
Half an hour later, Ragnar bid the town farewell and led the horses to the main road leading northeast, where we’d travel for the day and stop in an inn on the coast. Tomorrow morning, we’d board a passenger ship to Veridia City, hopefully arriving on the main island before nightfall.
The bustle of the town square slowly faded as the sun rose higher, the cadence of wheels over rough gravel lulling me into a trance as I stared out the window of the carriage. Brick buildings and cobblestone paths gave way to pine trees and dark green shrubbery, the occasional fox or hare slinking into the shadows.
“Hey,” Beau whispered from my right. Across from us sat Morgana and Ragnar, snippets of their conversation drifting to my ears as they pored over notes. “Don’t listen to them. All that stuff they say…it’s ridiculous. You’re our family, Rosie.”
I cast him a glance and a tight smile. “Thanks, Beau Beau.”
He nudged my shoulder with his bony elbow. “I mean it,” he insisted. “They’re just jealous you’re so talented.”
I snorted and nudged him back. I never knew how to respond when he or my aunt tried to ease the negativity swarming me. They were my own personal rays of sunshine, whether I liked it or not.
A moment passed, then my aunt spoke from opposite us. “Are you two excited to see Veridia City? The new food, the colors, the people…there will be so many wonderful things to try.”
I contemplated her question as I fiddled with the pouch ofherbs in my lap. On any normal day, I typically only carried thistle and amaranth in my pockets for protection, but I had a special container for when I wanted an abundance of charms on my person. Alchemists accessed our magic through items found in nature—herbs, seeds, stones, and the like—so I needed a way to carry many kinds all at once. This pouch had been my father’s. A leather-worn, hexagonal shaped container about the size of my hand that opened on opposite ends to reveal five small compartments each, giving me space for ten charms. Feeling the leather between my fingers always seemed to settle my mind.
“I suppose,” I finally answered. “Although probably not for the same reasons.”
