I recognize the scent from the locket; it's Anna's.
She drops to her knees and retches into the snow. I drop beside her, gathering her hair, whispering words of comfort—but she doesn’t come back to me.
I lift her into my arms, but she fights me the whole way to the door. There’s a note tucked underneath the flowers. I slide it into my pocket.
Inside, I wrap her in a blanket, light the fire, and press a warm mug into her hands, though I know she won’t drink it. She’s elsewhere now. Lost in the dark.
“Lumi?” I try. But she doesn’t respond.
I take the mug back before it spills and crouch in front of her. “Saelûn?”
Still nothing. Her eyes don’t even track me. She’s frozen in a storm I can’t stop.
I kneel, and the note rustles softly in my pocket.
I hesitate.
Part of me wants to burn it, to keep his darkness from touching her again. But she’d rather fall apart from the truth than be protected with a lie.
“There was a note,” I murmur. “With the flowers.”
That snaps her out of her trance.
She flies off the couch, “What? Show me. I need to see it.”
“I have it right here.”
She tears it from my hand with shaking fingers. Her eyes shift frantically left to right, scanning over the words. I don’t know what they say, but I see the look in her eyes.
It’s Mark—or someone willing to cross a line so violent, so intimate, they’re not just playing with her grief anymore.
They’re trying to take it.
She doesn't say a single word, just calmly sets the note down on the arm of the couch, and stares into the fire, hollow-eyed and unreadable.
I lower myself slowly, resting my forehead against her stomach as I wrap both arms around her hips.
“Lumi?”
There's no answer besides the slight tremble under her skin.
“I'm going to draw you a bath,” I whisper. “I won't force you to get in, but I think it would help.”
I don't wait for a reply. I rise with her still wrapped in my arms and carry her into the bathroom.
I set her gently on the bench before turning the water slightly warmer than usual. I toss a handful of dried herbs from the forest—sweet fern, crushed birch leaf, powdered snowdrop root. They all aid in relaxation.
The scent drapes across the air like a silk veil.
I light a ring of candles and turn off the overhead light.
“Hey, Lûvenkae...” I murmur. “Wanna get in?”
She doesn't say anything, but her fingers twitch towards me, and that's enough.
I reach for the hem of her shirt, slow and careful, giving her every chance to pull away.
She doesn't.
