Aileen leans forward, eyes shining. “And…that’s it? Nothing else happened?”
I sit up straighter, trying to keep my face neutral, but I can’t quite hide the smile tugging at my lips. I get up and walk to the wash basin, pretending to busy myself.
“No…nothing else,” I say slowly, then spin around, grinning brightly. “Other than…we kissed.”
Aileen screams so loudly I nearly drop the basin. She jumps onto the bed, squealing and clapping her hands, laughing hysterically. “Oh lord!”
I hold up a hand, laughing. “Calm down! No one can know. Promise me, or you’ll give me away before breakfast.”
She squeals again, bouncing on the bed.
“Where did this come from? How was it? Tell me!”
I smile, letting myself relax into the memory. “It was…magical. Familiar, but new at the same time. Everything I didn’t even know I wanted.”
Aileen tilts her head. “And…what does that mean?”
I let out a small sigh, looking out the window for a moment, sunlight glinting off the glass. “That’s exactly where the problems start,” I admit. “But…right now, I don’t want to think about it. I just want to be happy…for once.”
Aileen lets herself fall back onto the bed, squeaking and laughing, hands flung wide. “Oh, I amsohappy for you! I’ve never been this excited in my life!”
I can’t help it—I laugh with her,the sound spilling warmly into the room. For the first time in a long while, everything feels light.
Chapter 28
The last of the nobles depart, their carriages rumbling down the long drive in slow procession. Wheels grind against gravel; horses snort and toss their heads, restless beneath the weight of the air.
It is hot again. Oppressively so, hotter than the days before.
The kind of heat that clings to skin and refuses to lift, that settles into the lungs and makes every breath feel like fire. My gown sticks to the small of my back. Even the breeze—when it comes—is warm and damp, carrying no relief.
Above the distant treeline, clouds gather in uneven swells, darkening at their undersides. They do not yet move toward us, but they are building. Layer upon layer, thick as bruises forming beneath pale skin.
The servants murmur about it in low voices. A storm by evening, they say. Perhaps sooner. There is a strange hum in the air today—not sound exactly, but a certain kind of suffocating pressure.
My father stays behind, overseeing the final arrangements and ensuring nothing is left unsettled. I wander the now quiet halls, my footsteps echoing off the stone. Every corner I turn, every doorway I pass, I hope to catch a glimpse of Ashford. But he is nowhere. It is as though he has vanished—again.
At last, I find my father in the library, reviewing letters.
“Father,” I ask cautiously, “have you seen Ashford?”
He looks up, surprise flickering across his face. “Ashford? He was here? I assumed he had returned to the capital, to see that messages were delivered safely.”
“He has been here,” I insist, frowning. “I’ve been looking for him.”
He nods slowly, thinking. “He often stays in the servants’ quarters when traveling. Perhaps that is why you did not encounter him.”
I bite my lip. “I just…wanted you to know. There was an incident last night,” I explain.
My father nods, “I was informed of Pepin’s sudden departure this morning.”
“Ashford pulled him out of my room and made sure he left right away.”
My father’s expression tightens, concern knitting his brow.
“Are you all right, my love?” he asks.
I simply nod. “Yes, thanks to Ashford. I simply wanted to express my gratitude.”
