Page 57 of The Ashpaw: Part One

She headed upstairs to the kitchens, rooting around for a scrap of leftovers while trying to ignore everyone’s excited tales of the previous night.

No, she would not hear how much ale they drank, how many wolfkin they kissed.

How they danced for so long their feet ached.

How lovely Kyntha looked in her beaded gown…

Fern had managed to get her hands on a stale bread roll when Marin entered, clapping her hands for everyone’s attention.

“You’re needed in the gardens today, she-wolves!”

Gardens? As in… the gardens outside?

“It’s the summer harvest, and we’re short of hands. Let’s go, and see if we can’t finish before the afternoon’s heat is upon us.”

The conversations of the previous night turned into groans about working in the sun, but Fern could not be more excited to finally leave the castle, having missed the chance last night.

Were she actually a wolf, her tail would be wagging.

She followed Marin at the back of the group, the yard empty aside from a few guards.

The majority of the wolfkin were likely still sleeping off the night’s festivities.

Sabletail Castle’s gardens were not all that different from those in her village—long rectangular plots stretched in organized rows, separated by packed earth paths wide enough for carts. Trellises of dark wood formed lattices for climbing beans and vine-grown gourds, and irrigation channels threaded through everything like veins.

Beyond the cultivated beds, the land changed into herb terraces and berry shrubs, then into orchard lines where young trees stood heavy with ripening fruit.

The air outside felt immediately different, a river of heat instead of a stagnant pond, and her lungs fully opened to the scents of greenery she’d almost forgotten living inside stone.

Fern had to slow herself at the edge, just for a breath before someone would notice, daring to close her eyes. The early morning sunlight on her face was cleansing in a way the waters of the bathing room could never hope to achieve.

Marin was already assigning groups. Most of the Solvekh broke into pairs or trios without hesitation, laughing with people they considered friends. At last, once everyone was gone, Marin looked at Fern, snapping her fingers.

“You.”

Fern swallowed, worried she’d already made a mistake.

Disappointment was still a bitter tonic to swallow, no matter how many doses she was forced to take. Marin was probably going to send her back to Kyntha’s room to finish the job she’d been made to abandon last night.

She walked up quickly, shoulders low and gaze averted. Waiting to be spoken to.

“I heard.”

Fern nodded. “Aye, I’ll go back inside…”

“No,” Marin answered quickly. “Just…”

She sighed, looking towards the Solvekh now chatting pleasantly, their baskets already filling.

“Perhaps the young enjoy the solstice for the pleasures of drink and merriment,” she said. “But the older you get, the more it becomes a time for reflection. A reminder that no matter how dark it gets, the light will always return.”

She dug into the pocket of her apron and took out a small bundle wrapped in cloth.

“I’m sorry you were denied the light, Ashpaw.”

Fern’s lips began to tremble as Marin placed the bundle in her hands.

“You’ll take the beds along the eastern row,” she said, her tone flattening as it got louder. “Radish, carrot, and spinach. Potatoes, too. Anything ready comes up today.”