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At once, Amelie regretted using the name. She didn’t know what else to call him, for she wasn’t sure who or what he was.
“Please, sister, keep your voice low.” Amelie chewed her lip, wondering how to convince Colette to let her go. “Our brothers will put their lives in danger if I do not make this journey. Yours too, perhaps.”
She hoped she sounded less terrified than she felt, for her sister’s sake. But Colette was hard to mislead. Putting on a brave face only worked when the other person could not see straight through any mask you wore.
Colette took Amelie’s hand. “There must be another way.”
“Not one that leaves us in safety. I will be alright, I promise. But you can’t stop me. I love you too much to do nothing. And I am looking forward to taking this journey, in a way. I will be having a real adventure, at last.”
“Your mind is set on this madness, isn’t it?” Colette paused, tilting her head while deep in thought. “I know very well how stubborn you are. And it’s the sworn covenant of sisters to conspire to achieve their respective ends.” She gave a small smile. “Alright. I won’t raise the alarm, if that’s what you want. But what if I come with you?”
“Absolutely not. What good would that do, to put you in danger like that? There’s no sense in both of us going.”
Colette sighed. She reached into the pocket of her nightgown and withdrew the rose-gold shell.
“At least take this,” said Colette, pressing it into Amelie’s palm. “For protection.”
Amelie shook her head and gave it back. “The shell is yours. I’ll sleep far better at night knowing you have the protection.”
“Oh, please.” Colette gestured to the cottage, where their brothers slept. “I have two vigorous men to look out for me. And I’ll not be facing any beasts.”
“No. Thank you, though. I have my silver rose, which is plenty of protection.” She lowered her voice. “I’ll see you soon, I swear.”
The sisters hugged for a long time. The palomino watched in patient silence, the leaves of the oak tree whispering overhead. When they drew back from each other, Colette swiped tears from her cheeks.
“Go,” she said. “Before I change my mind and raise my voice to the heavens to awaken our brothers.”
With a deep breath, Amelie put her foot in the stirrup once more and pulled herself into the saddle. As she guided the horse down the side of the cottage, she looked back. Her sister stood under the great oak, her arms wrapped around herself. Amelie blew her a kiss, and then Colette was out of sight.
The palomino needed little guidance from Amelie, seeming to know where to go. There was only one trail from the cottage to the main roads, but Amelie was uncertain how she’d navigate once they progressed farther. She supposed she’d find folks to query for directions along the way, once the sun had risen.
For now, she held the reins and let the steady gait of the palomino calm her. Crickets chirped harmoniously and small creatures scurried through bushes. The air was balmy and stars twinkled like jewels in the vast black sky.
“What is your name, I wonder?” asked Amelie.
The horse’s ears flicked backward and forward.
“Hmmm, let me see. May I call you Trésor? It means treasure, for your beauty inside and outside.”
Again, the palomino’s ears flicked back and forth and she gave a little whiny.
“Very well,” said Amelie. “Lovely to meet you, Trésor. I am Amelie. I believe you came from Castle Grange. I don’t suppose you know how to return?”
As if in response, Trésor increased her pace to a canter. Amelie leaned forward in the saddle, exhilarated by the speed and grace of the mare. Maybe the night was playing tricks, but they seemed to be traveling much faster than would ordinarily be possible on horseback. Raphael did say Castle Grange was enchanted. Perhaps the mare was, too.
Eventually, the the calm night gave way to the freshness of dawn. The sky lightened, becoming a watercolor painting of pink, peach, and deep blue. Despite her excitement and nerves, lack of sleep weighed down Amelie’s eyelids.
She considered stopping to rest, though she couldn’t imagine where she’d do so safely. Staying at an inn by herself seemed too risky. They passed cottages and settlements, but the road was mostly surrounded by forest. Perhaps Amelie could nap among the trees, out of sight on a bed of leaves and grass.
Her head nodded forward, her eyelids drooping. The rhythmic grace of the horse had a hypnotic effect and Amelie drifted into dreamland. What felt like a moment later, her eyes opened with a start, to find a beautiful summer’s morning.
The sun blazed in the sky, bees floating over the wildflowers by the well-trodden road. How far had she traveled with Trésor? The trees looked different—taller, and a darker green than the ones from the forest where she lived.
The mare seemed unfatigued, her coat smooth and free from perspiration. She cantered at the same pace as last night. How had Amelie not fallen off?
“You are not quite a regular horse, are you, Trésor?” she asked. “Naturally, an individual who owns Sirenstone swords and an enchanted castle would also have magical horses. How far have we traveled, I wonder?”
Trésor tossed her platinum mane.
