It took little to convince Mareda to steal away to the Laune for the morning – not when Adeline framed it as a way to escape their solemn parents for a while before the feast.
“Mass begins in an hour, Ade, we’ll be expected at the Temple. We can’t miss it.”
Adeline rolled her eyes at that.
“Sure we can. You’ve been through more than twenty years of New Winter blessings, you know how it goes.” She raised her hand, palm out, and rotated her arm in a slow circle winding inward, imitating the High Priestess as she solemnly intoned; “Mother Goddess hold you. Daughter Isa cleanse you. Daughter Lasra warm you. Daughter Tala feed you. And may Daughter Aera carry your soul on Silver Winds. A New Winter has dawned; go forth and be blessed.”
“Mother won’t be happy.”
Mother is never happy, Adeline wanted to say. But Mareda hadn’t said no, so she knew she’d already won.
She grinned instead.
“Come on, Marry. Let’s take one hour to ourselves today.”
Mareda allowed herself a small smile.
The frozen laketop would be deserted for New Winter’s day, the one day of the year that every merchant at the Laune Market could be counted on to pack away their wares.
It was the perfect arena for a bit of light sparring on ice, and a trial of Adeline’s new boots. With the added benefit, of course, that not a soul would be within shouting distance – nobody to come running if they were to fall on their arses again.
Mareda hurried off to her rooms to change, and Adeline dressed quickly too. She was thankful, for once, that her father had convinced her not to fully commit to her move to the city – not until her milestone birthday, which loomed ever closer yet still seemed an eternity away. At the very least, it meant she had a few abandoned clothes to choose from in the half-empty wardrobe. She thumbed past her usual training leathers and pulled out the warmest things she could find; a pair of fleece-lined breeches and a wine-red woolen jumper she hadn’t worn in years, which was now just alittletoo tight across her chest.
Adeline rolled her eyes as she wrestled with the neckline.Yearsspent wishing for the bosom to match her curving hips, and now that she had them, all it meant was an aching back and clothes that didn’t fit right. That and the occasional barbed comment from her lovely, willowy mother about herwomanly figure.
She glanced in the age spotted standing mirror by her door to give the jumper one last tug, then gave up and turned away. Adeline passed through her private parlour on her way out, and snatched up her cloak from where she’d tossed it on the faded blue settee. She tucked her mass of curls beneath the hood, then finally took off to meet Mareda at the stables.
The ride to the lake was gloomy; both the grey sky above them and the silence now hanging between them. Mareda had stopped to check on her father before she left, and whatever small amount of joy Adeline might have coaxed from her that morning had been reeled in once more. And still, Mareda said not a word about it. So, Adeline trotted along, chattering aimlessly about the outrageously drunk court nobles she’d spotted in the courtyard last night.
“And little old Lady Marjorie is a rowdy one, isn’t she? Ger told me she drank two young Gard initiates under the table before the clock even struck midnight.” She laughed, light if a little forced. “I mean, they had to have a third Gard carry her home later on, but still –”
Mareda spoke over her, not even looking around.
“You needn’t fill every silence, Adeline. Sometimes we can justbe.”
Her laughter died on the wind.
Adeline certainly didn’t fill the silence that followed.
In fact, she very nearly turned her mare around and fucked off home, to herrealhome, ready to let Marry sulk all she liked – new boots be damned. She set her jaw and raised the reins in her hands, ready to do just that - but a breathy sniffle carried on the brisk wind, and she caught herself before she could give in to the sting.
Stop.Breathe.
What happened last night was awful. She couldn’t begrudge Mareda her feelings. She could withstand a few verbal jabs if she had to.
So she stayed, and swallowed the sour retort rising in her throat like bile.
They slowed their horses at the tree line across from the lake’s edge, and Adeline hopped down, leading her mare to a sturdy-looking tree. Papou snorted and nudged at her as she passed, somehow reading her mood. She made a show of leashing her to the tree, of settling her with a few gentle scratches at her snout and ears – busying herself with this gentle creature as long as she could to avoid the suddenly prickly creature behind her.
“Ade,” Mareda said quietly.
Finally she turned – and her temper cooled all at once. Mareda wrung her hands before her, eyes bright and doleful. In that moment, framed by the shadow of the barren trees in the snow, she seemed years younger; pale, and lost, and dejected.
Adeline was moving before she’d even decided to.
“It’s alright, Marry. I know.”
She went to her sister, gathering her into a hug, squeezing tighter when Mareda shuddered with a suppressed sob. Adeline shushed her, gently, rhythmically, a mother rocking her babe to sleep. They stood that way for a long moment, the wind a chorus to Adeline’s soft hushing breath.
