Curled up in a thick purple robe over my wool nightdress, I tucked my knees beneath me on the sofa. With the parlor curtains drawn shut, I sipped hot tea, wincing as it scorched my lips.
Instead of sleep, woe hugged me in a tight embrace and whispered,You must move past your hope of him waking. You will lose everyone dear to you.
The dark thought crept into my head, sticking like hot tar.
I wished to see no one. I’d never been a person who longed for solitude, and I found this side of myself unrecognizable.
A knock caused me to jump; the tea sloshed and spilled onto my hand.
“Ouch! Damn it,” I muttered.
I wasn’t expecting anyone today.
I’d told Cassidee I needed the day off from training. Dritan would come to tend to the grounds tomorrow. Lark should have been in Sahlmsara.
Had I forgotten other plans that I’d made? Typical.
With a heaved sigh, I unlocked the door and swung it open. Lark stood at the threshold with a toothy grin—it reminded me of when she was a child. A pang of missing that stage when she was just a fiery little girl hit me. She’d grown too fast. It all had passed too fast.
She wasted no time before she said, “There’s someone here to see you in the orchard. Down by the stable.”
“Who?” I asked.
“Hurry up. Get on your boots and go,” she clipped out, but her smile remained—that demanding tone had originated with Sybilla.
I rolled my eyes, droning, “Larrrk.” Surprises no longer excited me. “Tell me who it is and I’ll hurry, kid.”
“I would. But what fun would that be?” She invited herself in and threw her coat on a hook. “The snow is coming down hard out there, and you wouldn’t want to leave your visitor waiting in the cold, would you?”
My niece winked at me, and I scoffed.
If this was Cass’ attempt to get me out to train, I’d skewer both of them.
I wore thick wool socks already, so I stepped into my boots at the door. The estate floated my purple coat to me and opened it so that I could lift my arms through. I’d need it, judging by the chill that swept in from the still-open door.
“I don’t live in a barn, you know,” I teased as Lark made her way further inside.
“Enjoy,” Lark called from the sitting room, where she’d undoubtedly made herself at home by the fire with a book. Herteasing, cryptic behavior only made me more curious about what she’d schemed up to distract me.
Trudging out into the snow, I immediately wished I had put on thicker socks and breeches.This wouldn’t take long.
On the trip toward the stable, birds chirped and fluttered overhead, frantic to seek shelter in the everplum trees from the storm. Guilt sank in my gut, as I’d been too busy moping to come out and spread seed for them today. I’d double the rations tomorrow.
The trees bloomed again, their light pink flowers contrasted beautifully against the white blanket of snow on the ground. My mother had charmed the everplums centuries ago to help with spreading famine; they bloomed and bore fruit all year long.
Before I’d made it all the way down the hill, movement drew my attention to someone standing beneath a blossoming tree. A familiar figure with broad shoulders leaned against a great trunk. They stood upright as I approached.
Realization crashed upon me with force.
A breeze kicked up, pulling pink petals from branches and swirling them around him. The jolt of power came from me, but I couldn’t help it.
Emmerick.
Here.
In the orchard.
Awake.
