“Blueberry,” Ruth adds.
“How did you know where to find us?” I ask.
“From the note Will sent this morning,” Ruth says, and readies another mouthful. “We knew Morgana would be here, so we came as fast as we could.”
“Not by horseback,” Mum says pointedly, letting me know she hasn’t forgotten our quick escape.
“We ran into a very kind guard by the castle stables on the way in. They assured us Jeremy is being safely looked after.”
“You can take him home,” Will says. “I don’t mind walking.”
Ruth holds her spoon out contemplatively. “Hmm, I think I’ll stay at Lilibeth’s tonight. I’ve done too much rushing about today. Gill will be wanting some dinner, though….”
Will lightly brushes my lower back, and it sets my chest alight. I don’t miss Ruth’s implication that she’s leaving the cottage empty for us. I could finally have Will to myself, away from all this attention.
Mum sighs into her spoonful of cake. “We should probably talk to Fern at some point too. Garland sent her to bed with a sleeping draft, but she looked a wreck. Maybe in the morning she’ll be up for visitors, but it could be months, years, before she fully recovers from the poison.”
“You’re right,” Ruth says. “Both she and Garland will be needing a lot of treatment. We chose isolation before. This time, we choose compassion.”
“Well, I mean,afterI give her a talking-to about how she’s treated my daughter. She’s not getting off too lightly.”
“Have fun with that,” I say, and it feels weird to keep tossing out words so carelessly.
Mum waves her hand and turns her focus back on the cake. “Go enjoy yourself, darling.”
“Keep my workshop tidy,” Ruth deadpans, and Will groans.
“Okay, bye,” he shoots back, and steers me away by my shoulders.
The rhythmic sounds of the orchestra fade, and as they reset their bows and breath, I take in the room. The king and Card are hugging in the center of the dance floor, apologies on the king’s mouth and a laugh on Card’s. They appear to have just finished a few awkwardly stumbled dance steps together. The king leans on a cane that’s been supplied by the court physician, but there’s a joyful, and rare, pink flush on his face. Bastion gazes at them fondly from the high table, unaware that Merit is stealing a sip of his drink. Nearby, Pigeon squishes napkins of extra food in her satchel and grins at Lark’s disapproval, Nettle drags Ava up for the next dance, and Mum’s laughter floats in time with the first flute notes of a new song. I stamp the scene in my mind. My bouquet of loved ones, crowned in victorious laurels.
“How are you feeling?” Will asks.
“A little tired.”
“Too tired for a dance?”
I eye him curiously.
“A dance with Alrick’s most infamous villain?” I tease. “How could I refuse?”
A tendril of wind wraps around my waist and spins me into his arms.
“Whatscathingwords you have, Felicity. A dance will certainly make up for it.”
Will guides us onto the dance floor, keeping us on the outskirts away from the other couples and groups. I lean into his chest and close my eyes, grateful for a moment of peace. The music is as gentle as he is, and we sway in silence, every slight brush of his fingers a shiver, every breath as warm as the notes in the air. It’s a slow, stripped-down song that plays—a single flute backed by strings, poetic and ethereal, like the breeze itself is composing the music. Themelody builds like ambition, hypnotically layering over each harmony, and in Will’s arms, I feel full, like there’s no room for my heart to beat. Like my greenhouse that’s been struggling for space. I giggle and tilt my head up to look at Will.
“What is it?” he asks softly.
“So…when do I get this bigger greenhouse you promised?”
His surprised burst of laughter is enchanting. I don’t think either of us care if it draws people’s attention or not.
“Well, we do have a lot of space at the cottage,” he says. “You can grow whatever you want and stay whenever you like. I mean, only because Gill would mope if you didn’t. He got rather attached to you, I think.”
“Oh, I see,” I say. “So it’spurelyfor Gill’s benefit, then.”
Will rattles with laughter. I doubt I’ll ever get bored of hearing that sound. Of being the one to make it happen.
