Maybe that was why Sadie saw beauty in the shadowy depths between the trees. If she could have taken a path through the woods to Marstede without risking her skirts, she would have stepped off the road in a heartbeat. Maybe she’d finally feel welcome under the trees.
But Sadie couldn’t live on soil and sunlight. Which meant making a place for herself in a village or town. Which meant doing everything she could to ensure she didn’t expose her power.
If Sadie allowed herself the freedom of snarky commentary and strong opinions, she’d make a mistake. Easier to control allher responses than risk letting out the ones influenced by her magic.
Why had the spirits cursed her with such magic? She couldn’t even enjoy the one aspect of her powers that truly brought her joy, her water-affinity. But brewing potions was a tacit admission to being a witch, and even if she never told people what form her power took outside her affinity, they’d wonder and watch.
Sadie swallowed her last bite of the peach tart and wrapped her hand around her amulet. If her grandmother were still alive, things would be different. Sadie would never have been able to stay in the village where she had grown up longer than she had, but if Nana had been around to craft a fresh charm, she could have forged a normal life for herself somewhere else. A life that allowed her to mix potions and joke about the mystery of her power without risking anyone learning that she could read minds. A life where she didn’t have to swallow her own personality in order to safeguard her secret.
But Sadie’s grandmother had died years ago, and she had lost not only the one person who had never feared or resented her power, but also the one person she could trust to make a forbidden charm to suppress that power.
“Live in the present, learn from the past, and plan for the future,” Sadie murmured to herself, Nana’s words clear in her mind after how often she had spoken them. Sadie had learned plenty from her past, and she had plans not to repeat those mistakes ever again.
No matter how much the constant control chafed.
She released her amulet and picked up her pace. The summer days were long, but the forest on the western side of the road would hide the last rays of sunlight before long.
Three-quarters of an hour after she had left Lamsdel, Sadie reached the spot where the road branched. Head northeast, andshe’d land in the tiny village of Valway. But to the northwest, the road became the drive leading to Marstede Manor. Sadie took the left fork and fed a little more power into her amulet, preparing herself to face the inhabitants of the manor.
The drive was long, the house out of sight for ten more minutes. Then the road curved around a jutting portion of the Gloaming Forest, and there it was.
Sadie stopped and stared. The building itself was unremarkable as far as noble manors went. Sadie had seen her fair share as she bounced around the kingdom, and this one was neither the grandest nor the simplest she had seen. Large, made of stone, it was reminiscent of a castle from the olden days rather than the fancier abodes the nobles in the cities preferred. What made Sadie gape, however, was the grounds surrounding it. The forest crept over the lawn, trees sprouting where no proper gardener would allow them. No manicured flower beds lined the drive; nothing was pruned or polished.
It was positively wild. A place of natural beauty.
Sadie wondered if that reflected the baron’s tastes, then realized it probably had more to do with apathy than preference. She shook her head and started walking again. It hardly mattered that Marstede Manor sang to the wildness in her; she’d only be here long enough to deliver the soap. Then she was back to her safe, boring life in Lamsdel.
Though she didn’t know which door to use for deliveries, Sadie knew better than to knock on the front door. She made her way around the manor—choosing the forest side because she couldn’t resist—until she found a side entrance. Her skirts collected a few twigs along the way, her hoops too wide to allow her skirts to stay completely on the gravel path.
She knocked on the door and waited. Then waited a little more. Then knocked one more time, hoping she wouldn’t haveto go around to another door, or her skirts would really be in trouble.
The door swung open.
A man stood in the space revealed, dressed in a dark suit without his jacket, his shirtsleeves rolled up to expose his forearms.
Sadie tried not to gape, but it was hard.
If the spirits had taken all the traits she found most attractive and mixed them into one man, this was that man. His features were neither too rugged nor too defined. His waistcoat fit over a torso that was trim without superfluous muscle. He was just tall enough that she could step into his embrace and tuck her head under his chin.
The thought stirred Sadie out of her stupor. Why was she thinking about embracing him?
She was here for one reason and one reason only.
Soap.
She needed to think about the soap, not running her fingers through that thick hair that was a rare, dark wine red.
He looked her up and down and scowled. “No. Absolutely not.”
Sadie blinked, her amorous thoughts snuffed out under a wave of indignation. Who was he to sneer at her like she might track mud into the manor?
She opened her mouth and caught herself just in time. There would be no speaking her mind. No saying anything that might get reported back to Mr. Ferman and land her in hot water. She reached into her pocket. “I’m here to—”
“I know exactly why you are here, and the answer is no. I don’t care what my mother promised you. You can turn around and go home.”
Absolutely not. Sadie’s resolution to bite her tongue died. She had not come all this way to be sent back. Mr. Ferman wouldblame her for the lost sale if she went back to Lamsdel without delivering the soap. So long as she was going to be in trouble anyway, she was at least going to earn it.
“I’m not going anywhere until—”
