I want to reach out and take her hand, but I stop myself. She doesn’t want our pity. She just wants us to hear her.
She keeps going, voice low. “After my father died, my grandparents came and took over the farm. My grandfather… he runs our farm through fear. Orders, punishments, never any praise. If you make a mistake, he’ll make sure you don’t forget. He’s smart, too. But he teaches through cruelty. I learned a lot, but I’d never wish his lessons on anyone.”
Ashton looks disturbed, which is exactly how I feel. “That’s awful. I’m sorry.”
Alette shrugs, but I can see the tension in her jaw, the white line at the edge of her knuckles. “There are people with worse stories. I’m just saying, strategy and power aren’t worth much if you don’t use them to make things better. For someone. Even just one person.”
For a long moment, no one says a word.
Finally, Cassius says, “Maybe you’re right. But history isn’t written by the kind.”
Alette looks up at the crows again. “That’s probably why the world is so broken.”
Oberon grunts, and for the first time since the tunnel, he turns to look at her directly. “You talk like you’re five hundred years old, human.”
She almost smiles. “Sometimes it feels like it.”
The words echo through my mind.What has such a young woman been through that makes her feel that way?
We walk on. The path dips and winds, and the crows follow overhead, never more than a few trees away. The sky has gone from grey to a bruised purple, the last of the sun slowly bleeding out behind the hedge. The cold settles deeper, and I gather my cloak more closely to my body. Still, I can’t stop thinking about what she said, how she said it. It’s as if I'm starting to view the world through her eyes. Which is strangely uncomfortable for someone who’s always been set in his ways.
After a while, the space between hedges widens, and Oberon falls back to walk beside her. He doesn’t speak, but he keeps pace, his gaze on the path ahead.
I sidle up on her other side. “You all right, Alette?”
She blinks at me, surprised. “I’m fine.”
“The tunnel was a bit… frightening.”
She breathes out, slow. “I’m still here. That’s what matters.”
It’s the same answer I would’ve given.
Ashton catches up, a branch in his hand. He twirls it, then offers it to her like a sword. “In case any more tunnels try to eat us.”
She takes it, grins for real, and tucks it into her belt beside the dagger.
Cassius lags a few paces behind, silent, thoughtful. I can’t tell if he’s replaying the conversation or erasing it from his mind.
Oberon keeps the group moving. The path narrows again, so that we’re forced into single file once more. Alette ends up behind me, her footsteps so light I can barely tell she’s there.
After a while, when the path begins to widen a little once more, I risk a glance over my shoulder. She’s lost in thought, lips pressed tight. I slow down, letting her catch up until we’re walking side by side at the back of the group. My mind scrambles for something to say, but I’ve never been very good at this stuff.
“You handled that well,” I murmur. “Most fae don’t care for sadness unless it’s their own. Or unless it makes them look strong.”
She considers this. “That’s stupid.”
I smile, not hiding it. “You’re not wrong.”
Alette is quiet, just for a moment, then she changes the subject. “Did you grow up with your family?”
Ah, she’s trying to get to know me. This is a huge step up from the human who kneed me in the groin and ran from me the first time we interacted.
I nod. “I did.”
She smiles. “What was that like?”
I think about it and decide to be honest. She won’t learn to trust me if I don’t trust her. “A little challenging. See, well, my parents wanted me to be different than I am.”
