WaterRose, Meadow Mountain, Grier Country
SEBASTIAN
Elsabet wandered to the stairs as Sebastian drug in a wiltry tree from Warlock Grove across the moor. She stepped near the bannister and frowned down at him. Watching his progress.
Theyâd spoke minimally since heâd returned from the battle and Rhyers had reprimanded her for not offering him comfort. Theyâd both been avoiding the other.
I donât know what to say to her.
âWhat are you doing?â Her voice cut into his thoughts.
âItâs nearly Christmas.â He straightened to remark.
Her long look told him sheâd no idea what this meant.
Truly?
âAre you being sincere, Little Harpie?â
You donât know?
She blinked at him, passionlessly.
âCome down here.â He invited.
Perhaps get a little closerâ¦
Her lips tightened and she shook her head adamantly. Backing from the stairs to return to her chamber. He heard the door click.
He called for Elengard. The elf woman that ran WaterRose when he was away. She was careful to stay from sight of the valkyrie as heâd directed those few years ago.
âPlease ensure weâve warm sweet bread from the ovens for knights arriving the next fortnight.â
âAs you wish.â She murmured. Lowering her head in deference. âYou want the candles lit?â
âYes, the green ones, scented with leaves.â
âVery good, My Lord.â She backed from the room.
In less than an hour, candles burned in every dark corner of the stronghold. Bast carefully set some in the branches of the tree. Then hung crystal jewels.
âWhat are you doing?â The valkyrie watched from the parlor entryway. âThatâs sil-ly.â
âBut pretty nonetheless.â He didnât look at her.
Stay. Appease your curiosity.
âDo I smell sweet bread?â
âYes. Iâll assure some is sent to your chamber.â
âWhy are you having sweet bread made?â
âMy brother sometimes visits this time of year. Itâs a memory of who we were.â He murmured. Hanging another jewel. âYou should hang one.â He held one out sideways to her. It twisted on its scrap of string. Turning slowly in the candlelight. He was careful to only look at the tree before him. She seems to find me less threatening when Iâm not looking at her.
âWhy?â
âItâs tradition. It means you were once part of this place.â He gave an encompass-ing sweep of his arm.
âBut Iâm a prisoner.â
âBut part of it, nonethelessâ¦â He changed the subject before she could vomit the argument she clearly already cultivated. âI do this every year, if you care to join.â
Since youâll not soon be going anywhere.
âYou didnât last year.â She tilted her head to eye him, accusingly. As though he were deceiving her.
âLast year was an exception. We were still mourning, when the snow came. It was a bad year.â He hung the jewel.
âMourning?â
Everyone we lost.
When he wasnât inclined to answer she expostulated. âThis is foolishness! What does all this,â She gestured to it. ârepresent?â
âBelonging. Welcoming. There other knights come here often in sorrow or loneli-ness or injured. Such things,â He nodded to the tree as he reached in the crate and re-trieved another crystal. Fingers plucking to untangle the bit of string attached to it. âcan help heal their wounds. Whatever kind they may be.â
âThis place is infinitely strange!â She protested. âWho are these knights? Iâve seen them come and go.â
âMy brethren.â
âYou do this for them?â
âI do most things for them.â
She stepped next to him. Eying him warily. Heâd still pointedly avoided looking at her, though the urge was nearly overwhelming.
She stomped over and yanked a dangling pearl earring from her ear to hang it roughly on a branch before pivoting, skirt swinging as she exited the room.
âLater,â He called to her back, making her pause in the doorway. âI heat chocolate and add a bit of cream next to the fire.â
âInstead of sherry?â
âInstead of my sherry.â
She grunted.
âYou are welcome to join me. Iâm guessing youâve not had it before. Itâs not an experience youâll soon forget.â
âI donât wish to have such indulgence when people in this country are hungry this night.â
He chuckled. As he added another crystal.
âWhatâs funny?â She demanded.
âNo one is hungry tonight. And every landless person in this country has such a treat this eve.â
She snorted. âUnlikely.â
His head turned slowly to give her a prolonged study.
âWhat?â Her eyes narrowed. âHow would you know that?â
âBecause I import it from the Isle to ensure thereâs enough for them.â
âAnd how would you know they all have it this night?â
âBecause it came in on my ship last eve.â
âAnd youâre telling me chocolate and goods have been delivered all over Ardae in one night.â She scoffed. âNo one is capable of that. Not even you.â
âNo, Iâm not.â He concurred. âBut I have many brethren and they can cover much ground.â
She harrumphed. Eying him skeptically and headed upstairs.
Go ahead and believe I tell you such things to deceive you.
Iâm not.
Despite his invitation, she didnât come back down. He drank his chocolate and admired the tree with its dangling leaves, in dancing firelight. Remembering many years in the UpperLands with his twin. Playing around such trees.
He stared at the pearl earring in its blue holding. Turning softly in the light. She actually hung it. He was stunned and pleased.
Very touched that in a way it was her confession she wanted a part of herself to be recognized here. You are. He envisioned her shining silver-blonde hair in the firelight. The storm in her eyes as she warred with herself on whether or not to believe him.
Thereâs more to this woman. Sheâs curious. Interested. And wants acceptance here. He sighed and took another sip of his warm chocolate. Adding another block of the rich dark treat to the liquid in his wood mug.
Iâll find out everything there is to know about her.
And eventually, she will be mine.
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