Total pages in book: 55
Estimated words: 50898 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 254(@200wpm)___ 204(@250wpm)___ 170(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 50898 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 254(@200wpm)___ 204(@250wpm)___ 170(@300wpm)
She helped him outside to see to his duties, fighting to keep her mind clear of all the difficulties that plagued her. A few moments of peace that was all she wanted, a few moments.
Once inside she settled Ash comfortably in his bed and fed him.
Above, two doves shifted on the rafters, cooing softly as if reminding her they were there. “Aye, Bramble, Willow,” she called up to them, “I hear you and I am glad to see you both.”
The owl only blinked at her from its shadowed perch, solemn and still. “And you, Sage,” she said, shaking her head with a wry smile, “always watching.” She fed him as well.
But it was the raven who drew her next. He rested in the makeshift nest she had crafted from wool scraps and twigs, his dark feathers dull, his bound wing held close. He croaked low as she approached, and her heart tugged at the sound.
Fawn knelt beside him, brushing her fingers lightly over his glossy head. “You’ve spirit, I can tell. It seems only right you should have a name as well.” She thought for a moment, then smiled faintly. “Rook. Yes, that will do.”
The raven clicked his beak, as if in agreement, and settled back into the nest.
Fawn rose slowly, gazing around at the creatures who had made her cottage theirs. Their presence soothed her, yet her mother’s words whispered still, “Do not seal your vows. Evil lurks within him.”
She clenched her hands against her tunic. “You speak of danger but give me no truth,” she said aloud, as if the animals listened. “You fear Rhodes, aye, but what is it you see in him that you won’t tell me? What darkness do you hide from me, Mum?”
Her voice faltered, but then she shook her head, defiance hardening her tone. “I will not run. I will not be turned away by warnings I do not understand. If there is truth to be found, I will find it myself. I gave my word, and I will not break it. Wife I am, and wife I will remain.”
The doves cooed again, Sprig stirred in his sleep, and the raven let out a single croak, as though sealing her vow.
But even as she stood straighter, fire in her chest, unease crept like a shadow beneath her resolve. Her mother’s pleading eyes haunted her still, and though she hated to admit it, fear whispered along her heart… what if the warning was real?
Fawn’s stomach rumbled, loud enough that Sprig lifted his head from his nap to blink at her. She gave a soft laugh and pushed back her curls. “Aye, I hear you,” she told the kitten. “I’m hungry too.”
She gathered what she had from her stored baskets: carrots, turnips, and a small onion, and carried them to the table. As she chopped, the fox lifted his head, ears pricking, while the doves fluttered their wings above as if in approval. The steady scrape of her knife against the board and the earthy scent of the vegetables soothed her.
“You’ll all want some, I know,” she said, dropping the chunks into the pot she had set on the hook above the fire. “But this one’s mine. A wife needs strength if she’s to deal with a husband who thinks he can command her.”
She stretched her arm out to the shelves, reaching into a couple of crocks to scoop up some dried herbs, and sprinkled a mix of sage and thyme into the pot. The fragrance filled the small room, warm and familiar, wrapping around her like a comforting shawl.
“There now,” she said as she stirred. “That’ll see us through the night.”
Her gaze wandered around the cottage, over the rafters where the doves perched and where bunches of dried herbs hung, to the dark corner where the owl sat blinking solemnly, to Ash curled on his blanket close to the hearth, and Rook shifting in his nest. Her heart tightened.
“I will miss this,” she whispered, her voice low, the wooden spoon tight in her hand. “The quiet, the forest, and my forest friends. I wonder if I can thrive in stone walls the way I do beneath trees.” She gave the stew one last stir and shook her head. “But if I’m to make my home in the keep, then so will all of you. We’ll find a way to remain together.”
The words had barely left her lips when the door burst open with a crash, wind and snow rushing in.
Rhodes filled the threshold, his cloak snow-covered as well as his hair, the storm raging at his back. His dark eyes locked on hers, fierce and burning.
“You dare disobey me, wife?” he demanded, his voice carrying the force of the storm itself.
Rhodes strode inside, slamming the door against the cold. Snow scattered across the earthen floor, melting in sharp droplets. Hi jaw was set hard as stone as snow quickly melted off his cloak and hair.