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There were still some suspicious looks in the crowd, but plenty of relieved ones as well.

“Then by all means,” Iryana said with a smile. Perhaps her efforts to bring them closer together were working out after all.

“The path up to your valley is far too narrow and crumbled for us to bring a cart up, but we have enough soldiers to carry the goods; it will just take a few trips.”

Iryana sent a villager to fetch Darsha so she could inventory the new supplies and roped a few of the more grateful looking villagers, as well as her grumbling cousin, into helping carry the various crates and stacks.

“How is everyone else?” Iryana asked softly, leaning toward Mezhimar’s ear as they stood to the side to let the gate open fully.

The corner of his mouth tipped up. “How about you ask them yourself? We’re coming with you to the temple.”

She had to fight a grin. “Then let’s focus on these supplies.”

The path from the lower Yuresh Valley into the hanging valley that was the Kleesold’s post had been mostly dismantled to keep the dakii from wandering up. The way was mostly disguised, but someone on foot could pick out the path if they went slowly and carefully. With their help, it only took a few trips to carry the supplies safely behind the wall.

Shifting the weight of the grain sack she was carrying, Iryana looked behind her. The cliff was steep, and a sea of forest spread out where it met the lower valley floor. A trail of soldiers, guardians, and villagers worked together to move the supplies up the narrow switchback path.

It looked like hope.

Chapter Three

That evening was the first night in a long time that all the cousins had off together. The walls and towers were manned by the village volunteers. They decided to celebrate by gathering in the small study on the main floor of the house.

That was how Iryana found herself perched uncomfortably on an armchair at the furthest end of the room, waiting awkwardly for everyone to arrive. At least she was dressed more casually now: a plain white shirt and trousers with her house jacket wrapped around her.

There was a fire burning in the fireplace, but it couldn’t keep out all the chill.

Iryana wished she had finished her notes before finding the parlor. Hadima had convinced her to come, walked with her all the way there, and then promptly abandoned her to go check on some plants she was soaking. Most of the others hadn’t arrived, just Tonhald and Teshya, and then Levek, who was reading in the corner. At least none of them felt the need to fill the small room with idle chitchat.

She should have spent that time preparing for the conclave’s arrival. Rehearsing what she would say and all the possible ways she thought they might respond. There was so much riding on that meeting that just the thought of it made her hands clench and her chest flare. Instead of preparing, she could only stare at her clan members.

Levek was fully engrossed in whatever he was reading, only moving to turn the page every so often. Iryana found herself watching the couple.

Her oldest cousin, Tonhald, was sitting on the longer upholstered sofa, Teshya leaning into his side. He was fair, with straight pale hair that looked orderly even when it was tousled like it was now, which contrasted his wife’s darker hair and tanned skin. And where Tonhald was the tallest of their generation, his wife was petite beside him.

Teshya wore a small smile as her red needle forging was dragging thread in and out of what looked like the start of socks, tying knot after knot. Teshya’s fire-forgings were practical, made to enhance the insulating and warming features of winter clothing and the cooling features of summer clothing. Far more useful than an instrument that could stir their passions, a common preference for fire-forged back before the dakii came.

Tonhald had a wooden bowl in his lap and was plying wool for her, even twisting the strands together, spun in opposite directions to strengthen the wool.

Teshya looked over at his work. “Tono, you don’t have to help. Your hands must already be sore from helping with the harvest all day.”

Tonhald leaned over to place a kiss on her head. “I’m okay, my hands are in better shape than yours.”

His wife just nuzzled deeper into his side. Iryana couldn’t stop her smile at the sight. Even with everything going on, they were still so in love with each other.

Iryana had never thought much of marriage in the past, had always thought her future would be spent alone. But now that she realized she didn’t have to be alone, she couldn’t help but imagine what it would be like to have what her cousin did.

She wasn’t sure how Tonhald had managed to get so lucky to have found something so real, but she was glad he had. And Teshya was an amazing mom. Calm, gentle, and steady. She would do anything for her daughter. Would never abandon her. Not like—

Iryana shook her head quickly, clearing those thoughts away before they could rip old wounds back open.

She heard more of her cousins coming before they were in sight, their voices echoing down the halls. Kladara walked into the room first, untying the apron around her dark brown dress and tossing it across the back of the armchair she sank into. Misha and Sanora lingered in the entryway, talking among themselves.

“I never want to see a cabbage again,” Kladara grumbled. She’d been helping Darsha with the pickling when she wasn’t on watch.

“Kladi,” Teshya laughed, “you love pickled cabbage.”

“Not anymore!” Kladara wrinkled her nose.