The late spring sunlight flooded the road towards Ground Hollow. Elise blinked up at it through the window of the rickety but roomy carriage which was taking them to Nessa’s parents’ farm. Next to her, as always, was Nessa. The other passengers were busy telling her stories of what had happened in Nightport since they’d been away. Cai, Fyhre, Jac, and Sanjero had all met up with them on their first night back in Nightport. When they had heard that Elise and Nessa were visiting Ground Hollow, they had all devoted their only free day of the week to come along and see the small farming village where Nessa had grown up.
Elise saw Fyhre look out at the endless, tranquil greenery of the passing landscape with the same scepticism as she had the first time she saw it. Now Elise found herself enjoying the stillness and the beauty. She knew that Nessa would never want to move back and was pretty certain that after a few years the novelty of the countryside would wear on her, too. But right now, this place, so far away from political storms in Skarhult and royal intrigue in Highmere, seemed close to perfect.
She wished she had her notebook to write to her father of the way the landscape and the houses looked.
No, you were right, Papa… I must let the past be in the past.
Sanjero suddenly laughed. “Ye know, it’s funny. We ‘ave often spoken about ye both. Wonderin’ what ye were gettin’ up to. But our wildest guesses weren’t even close to what ye were doin’. It all sounds like one of them fancy tales that Hunter used to spin.”
Nessa snorted. “I wish it were one of Hunter’s stories. I prefer his tales over reality, they have tidier endings.”
“I ‘ear he’s writin’ his stories down these days?” Cai asked.
“In a matter of speaking. He is helping our friend Anja pen the collected history of Storsund. They both promised me letters to let me know how the work progresses,” Elise explained.
“You know what, when they start the next book,” Nessa added with a grin, “I’ll wager they’ll spend most of their days fighting over how much fiction Hunter is allowed to sneak into the books. Anja will want them completely factual while Hunter will strive to make them juicier with his usual ‘embellishments’ of the truth.”
Elise laughed. “Mm, not to mention how he will oversell the drama of the contents when it is time to sell the book. Oh, and the ensuing fights about Hunter aspiring to fame and fortune while Anja only wants to do her research alone in her quiet house.”
Still grinning, Nessa said, “Still, it warms the heart to see two good people find someone to cure their loneliness and lack of belonging.”
Jac nodded. “Aye, good to see. Maybe they’ll write books ‘bout Arclid one day. Gods know our former Queen an’ her family would make for good readin’. Storsund might have political intrigue, but we ‘ave the saucy scandals.”
“Truer words were never spoken,” Elise said. “Speaking of Arclid monarchy, I am glad to hear that our new queen has started her reign well. I understand taxes are being lowered while new schools and prisons are being built.”
Fyhre grunted her agreement. “Aye, an’ railroad tracks bein’ laid, an’ all!”
“We’ll catch up to the rest of the orb soon enough, just ye watch,” Cai said.
“I certainly shall,” Elise replied.
She looked out the window. The fields were now accompanied by farms. A few more minutes of watching the landscape in silence, then they stopped at a coach house in a dusty square.
“Ground Hollow,” Nessa said under her breath.
Half an hour later, they were drinking leaf tea on a blanket outside the family farm. Jon and Carryanne Clay had prepared a picnic and invited Layden and his family to join them. Carryanne kept throwing glances at Elise. At first Elise pretended not to notice, but that grew harder as the glances became more frequent.
Is she angry because I took her daughter away? Or because she feels I put Nessa in harm’s way? Maybe she finds me weak for having been captured. Again.
“Is something the matter, Mrs Clay?” she asked, keeping a carefree smile on her features.
“No. Nothing wrong. I’ve just been wanting to say something to you.”
The chatter around the blanket fell silent.
Elise continued smiling as best as she could. “Oh, yes. What is that?”
Carryanne’s thoughtful, grey eyes, so like Nessa’s, were fixed on Elise. “We get newspapers out here, you know. At least when there’s something in them of importance. Layden here, he’s a good boy, he gets us a paper if he thinks we need to read something in it.”
Elise was too well-raised to show her confusion as a guest. Her smile stayed in place. “I see.”
“I’m not one for sentiment. Nessa’ll tell you that. But I must say, when I read you giving me credit and thanking me for the recipe for the scented oils in that Storsund paper, I was mighty proud. Wasn’t I, Jon?”
He swallowed a bite of eggy bread. “She was. We both were. It’s not often a Noble thanks us commoners. It’s nice to know that our lass found herself a mate who knows her manners and doesn’t act superior.”
Elise shut her gaping mouth in embarrassment and cleared her throat. How did she reply in kind without making them uncomfortable by getting too emotional?
“I see. Well, my father raised me to give credit where it was due. You taught Nessa how to make the oil, how to press the dammon nuts, how long to leave it to settle and all that. Then she taught me, and without that base, I could not have made my own oils. So, thank you for that. Oh, and I am glad that my acknowledgment was well received.”
Nessa wrapped her arm around Elisandrine’s shoulder. “Elise has none of the usual snobberies of the Nobles. Her family is not as stable and loving as ours, therefore, she truly wanted to make you like her and welcome her into the family.”
Carryanne looked surprised. “She makes you happy and treats others with respect, she’s obviously welcome and liked here.”
Jon refilled Elise’s cup. “Sorry to hear your kin are… disagreeable. Still, they must be relieved that you’re back in Arclid, safe and free.”
There was something in Elise’s pocket which called to her then. The letter from her mother. She had forced herself to open it this morning. It had been hard to read, but it certainly had not taken long, as it was only a few lines.
Thank you for your correspondence.
Regretfully, I must inform you that it has reached the wrong recipient. I no longer have a daughter. She passed away many months ago, before she could marry Prince Macray and be mother of the next heir to the throne.
Cordial regards,
Lady Carolyne Falk
Elise shook the words out of her mind as best she could and replied, “Sadly, no. I have been informed by my mother that I am no longer a member of the Falk family.”
There was a weighted silence. Sanjero reached out to take Elise’s hand while Nessa pulled her closer to her.
Carryanne put down her cup and huffed. “That is the silliest thing I’ve ever heard. What sort of parent does that?” She waved a calloused hand as if chasing away a fly. “Never you mind. You’re a Clay now, that’s all the family you’ll need. When we go back inside, remind me to show you where I hung the clipping from the newspaper.”
“Put it in the kitchen she did, pride of place above the spice rack,” Layden said. “I offered to have it framed for her but apparently I was being ‘silly’ and should ‘focus on framing my own daughter’s achievements’. Or something like that.”
Layden’s daughter Hanne waved a bit of sugar pumpkin at him. “I did a castle this morning. Frame that, Papa.”
“Drew a castle,” her mother Isobel corrected with a smile.
“See, that’s how it starts. One day they’re little girls drawing castles for you. The next, their spouses become famous and thank you in big newspapers,” Carryanne said, nodding sagely.
Blushing was usually Nessa’s reaction of choice but, right now, Elise’s cheeks burned. She didn’t trust herself to speak, worried that she m
ight cry.
Nessa said, “She’s not my spouse yet, Mum. Although we really should see to that. I simply don’t know… quite how to ask her.”
Shocked, Elise was about to blurt out that she pretty much just did, when Nessa spoke again. “I suppose I could’ve hidden a ring in Elise’s coat pocket for her to find. But then, she might be busy with meeting-the-in-laws nerves and horrible letters to notice. Hrm.”
Everyone’s eyes darted to Elise. With shaking hands, she checked her coat pockets. One had the letter. The other one… contained something hard. She pulled out a tiny pewter tin. Elise opened it and found that, resting on a sliver of red velvet, was a ring. A gold ring with intricate filigree framing a dazzling yellow stone.
Elise stared at it, her free hand at her chest. Cai began to cheer, and the others joined in.
Layden held up a hand. “I don’t think Nessa’s finished speaking. Even she can’t propose without saying something romantic.”
Nessa stuck her tongue out at him, but then, for the first time during this conversation, turned to Elise. She swallowed. “Right. I’ve memorised what I want to say, so please don’t interrupt or I’ll lose my flow.”
Elise nodded.
Nessa took her hand and gazed down at it. “While we pretended to be wed, I thought a lot about marriage. How much it means to me. And how right it felt to say that I was your wife. How much I wanted it to be true. So… here goes.” She bit her lip and then looked up from Elise’s hand, right into her eyes.
“Heartling, you were Lady Elisandrine Falk when I met you. You unnerved me but also impressed and charmed me. Then you changed into Elise Aelin and you went from a friend to a lover. After that you were Elise Glass, and you became my safety and joy. Now, I’m asking you to be Elisandrine, or Elise, Clay, my companion and worshipped wife for the rest of our lives.”
Nessa’s voice trembled and cracked. She cleared her throat. “That was it. But I’d like to add that I want anyone who sees you to know by the ring on your finger that you belong with someone. That someone needs and loves you so very much. Marianna thought she could win back your affection with the snap of her fingers. Maybe a wedding ring would’ve made her think twice? It symbolises that what you and I have is not a brief romance – it’s for life.”
Elise found herself trembling. “Never mind others, I am more interested in the ring reminding me that someone loves and needs me. That wonderful Nessa Clay is not a daydream, but the woman who actually married me. And you being equally reminded when you see the ring which I shall buy you soon.” She kissed Nessa before adding, “In truth, I was planning to propose to you when we were reunited in Highmere. But I had no ring, and, more importantly, I worried that since you are the sensible one, you would feel it was too soon. We have only been together for about two years.”
Nessa’s eyes twinkled. “True. However, I’ve learnt to trust in us. And to remember that life is a fragile, short thing. Let’s be happy now and we can be sensible later. I just want to blow glass, drink in taverns with this lot,” she pointed to Cai, Fyhre, Jac, and Sanjero, “and visit Ground Hollow. However, all that would lose its appeal if I couldn’t do it with you.”
Elise blew out a shaky breath, clutching the box with the ring tightly. “Then it’s settled! Put me down for all of that. Except the glassblowing, I have oils to make. And what better place to source ingredients than Ground Hollow with its remarkable apothecary?” She bowed to Layden and Isobel. “And its lovely natural ingredients,” she added while nodding to Carryanne and Jon.
“An’ then sell the oils in Nightport where I s’pose they can be transported to places all over the orb?” Cai asked.
“Exactly,” Elise said.
She leaned back in Nessa’s arms while carefully putting the band on her ring finger.
“It fits,” Sanjero said breathlessly.
“Aye, an’ its a lovely little stone. Topaz, I reckon,” Jac added.
“Exactly. Golden yellow. Like your eyes,” Nessa whispered into Elise’s ear.
Elise snuggled deeper into Nessa’s embrace as they watched the band and its stone glimmer in the sunlight. The ring seemed to steady Elise and to radiate bliss throughout her. The anguish and stress of the past months was melting away. Even the pain of her mother’s letter dulled to a distant ache.
“I love you with all my heart, Nessa Clay.”
“I love you right back, Elisandrine Clay.”
Elise could hear Anja’s voice in her head. Clay? That’s a bit premature. Still, congratulations and all that. Now, stop being sappy for snow’s sake. Light the fire and I’ll put coffee on. She couldn’t wait to tell her and Hunter.
A warm breeze blew through, ruffling their hair as the others congratulated them and toasted them in tea and juice. Elise thanked them distractedly. Her focus was on Nessa’s warm embrace and on that ring, which seemed to have become a part of her immediately.
Closing her eyes to take it all in for a moment, she thought to herself, Now this… this is true magic.
Chapter 41
Marianna and Magic
There were sounds of skittering animals outside her window. Her barred window. Marianna huffed under her breath. If she was to be kept prisoner indefinitely, she could at least have been allowed to keep her usual bedchamber. This dilapidated two-room cottage deep in the castle grounds was too remote, too quiet. It had animals outside. And dirt. Not to mention that the lack of courtiers’ watchful eyes made her guards foul-mouthed and vulgar. She was quite certain that the man and woman guarding the door were bedding each other, sometimes while on duty. And the one at the back, currently calling to whatever animals had been skittering around in the bushes, seemed too dense to even notice. What was worse, not a single one of them had responded to her flirtations. Neither had their replacements for the night shift. Adaire must have chosen them well, picking guards with terrible taste.
She heard the shuffling of guards’ heavy boots outside the door and then the words, “Good evening, Your Majesty. Have you come to see the prisoner?”
Marianna huffed again.
“Your Majesty.” Ha! And imagine asking if she has come to see the prisoner. No, she came to steal the roof shingles, you oxen-brained muscle mountain.
“Yes. Unchain the door, please.”
Adaire’s voice was clear and crisp, as always. It caused a knot in Marianna’s stomach. As the procedure with the locks took place, she prepared herself for the horrible mix of longing and loathing that always overtook her when she saw the betraying bitch she had loved. Still did love, in her own way.
The door opened and closed behind the thin woman in white and mauve, shades which suited her colourings so beautifully it forced Marianna to stare in admiration.
Adaire inclined her head. “Marianna.”
She nodded back. “Betraying pond-dweller.”
If the insult hurt Adaire, she hid it well. She merely clasped her hands in front of herself and asked, “Are you well? You look somewhat pallid.”
“Being locked up indoors will do that to a person.”
“Fair enough. Still, you get more light and air here than you would down in the dungeons.”
There seemed to be true concern in those intelligent eyes. For a moment Marianna wanted to fall into her arms and complain about life’s unfairness, like she had done so many times. Nevertheless, she steeled herself, recalling that this unfairness was created by the very woman from whom she wanted comfort.
Adaire’s face was blank. “Curb your self-pity. You brought this upon yourself.”
“Leave.”
“No. Not until I have visited you for a while. You grow maudlin when you do not get any social interaction.”
“I grow maudlin when I am forced away from my birthright and hid in a mouldy, tiny cottage!”
Adaire held out her hands in a soothing gesture. “Calm yourself, that vein at your temple is throbbing so badly I can see it from here. I will remain until we have talked, you cannot stop me.”
/> Marianna snorted but said nothing.
“Now, I bring news. Your brother and Kelene have had their first child. A healthy daughter, I am told. They have settled in Obeha, apparently enjoying the heat. You know how Kelene dislikes the cold.”
Marianna scoffed. “She is thinner than a piece of paper, she would be freezing while sitting in a flaming pyre.”
“Let us not be unkind. Her body shape is none of our business. Rejoice that they are thriving. Macray has been given a post at the Arclid consulate in Obeha. Which brings him purpose and coin.” The corners of Adaire’s mouth turned down. “Also, I can have someone keep an eye on him. I am told he is so busy working now that he has little time to cheat on his wife. Another piece of good news.”
Marianna glared at her. “Are we done? Are you leaving now?”
Adaire was silent for a spell.
Then she sighed. “I do not think you actually want me to leave. You must loathe me, but I believe you also miss me. I know that look in your eyes. Besides, I should think it breaks up the tedium of the day.” She peered at the desk in the corner. “I see you have been writing today. Still working on your memoirs?”
“Yes, I am calling them The One True Queen. The finished book will be obligatory reading in all schools when the people tire of your dull reign and return me to the throne.”
Adaire closed her eyes for a moment. She looked so tired. Or perhaps that was resignation? Guilt? Marianna had never been good at reading people’s emotions. It bored her.
“Let us change the topic for a short while. Do you think we can do that, Marianna?”
“We are not doing anything. I am merely an unwilling audience to this monologue of yours. By the way, you need to have that dress tightened in the waist, it is not as flattering as it could be.”
The ghost of a smile came and went on Adaire’s pale lips. “I shall not thank you for the advice, as my reign is more focused on my abilities as a leader than my desirability.” Her voice quieted as she added, “However, it gladdens me to find you eyeing my figure and still remembering it so well. Despite everything, that makes my heart beat faster.”
Tinderbox Under Winter Stars Page 35