A mother and child sitting on a blanket in the snow. She sings as she braids her child’s hair…
I try to catch my breath as the image presents itself to me so clearly that I’m not sure if my Oracle power has been triggered, or if the love injected into the song is so powerful that I canseeit.
Opposite me, Stellen murmurs, “I wish I could feel what you’re feeling right now.” And then, even more quietly, he whispers, “Even though it’s better that I can’t.”
I swipe at the tears falling down my cheeks. “Whose ribbon is this?”
He gives me a small smile. “It’s mine.”
Slowly, he pulls the ribbon from its case, revealing that it’s as long as my arm.
Holding it carefully while he reaches for my braid, he asks, “May I?”
I nod, even though I’m not entirely sure what he’s asking permission to do.
Carefully, he begins unwinding the bottom of my braid, speaking as he works. “When my sister was born, my mother used the last of her Lethian silver to sing protective amulets for us. But silver was valuable, and all jewels belonged to myfather, so when she finished her work, he took the amulets from us.”
Stellen begins winding the ribbon into my braid. “So my mother sang simple ribbons for us out of cast-off yellowed threads since he wouldn’t want those. My sister wore her ribbon wound multiple times around her wrist. I wore mine in my hair. My first warrior’s braid.”
He ties off the ribbon, his fingers lingering. “I can’t give you love, but I can give you this.”
I let my quiet tears fall. I want to speak, but silence can be powerful. His silences matter. And now I want to make mine matter too.
Leaning forward, I press my forehead to his forehead, rest my palm on his heart, and close my eyes.
Carrying this song means more than he could know.
I lost my mother too.
“Thyra,” he murmurs. “There’s something?—”
Tension suddenly ripples through his body, palpable beneath my hand before he says, “Juniper’s coming. Her heart’s pounding. She’s worried.”
He pulls away from me, striding to the door, opening it just as Juniper appears on the other side of it.
“Lord!” she exclaims.
“What’s wrong?” His voice remains low and quiet, not a hint of melody or alarm in it that might cause her to feel more fear than she clearly already does.
Her cheeks are pale and the tray of food she’s carrying clatters in her trembling hands. “Soldiers?—”
“I hear them, Juniper. Give me the tray. Continue your duties. You have nothing to fear.”
I’m already at her side, reaching for the tray. Stellen made it clear to me that Lilis is the only soldier allowed past the palace gate, so that could explain why Juniper’s sorattled.
Her worried eyes flash across me before she hurries away.
Stellen’s voice remains low. “Thyra, we may need to leave quickly. Bring both satchels, as we don’t know what we’ll encounter. Use the cloth napkins on the table to pack some bread. You’ll find empty waterskins in the bottom of the satchel we brought from the temple. Fill the waterskins and be ready.”
I don’t question him. I’m conscious of the way he’s tilting his head, clearly hearing things that are informing his instructions.
As I hurry to wrap the bread and return the scrolls to the second satchel, I can’t help my feeling of regret. I didn’t study the maps yet. I thought I’d have more time. I promise myself, no matter what’s about to occur, I’ll look over them soon.
Seconds later, two soldiers appear in the hallway. They are the two with whom Lilis most closely associates.
The air around Stellen turns instantly icy and his countenance becomes stern.
Both men give deep bows. Despite their rushed approach, neither seems willing to explain themselves.
