Page 37 of A Spell of Heart & Havoc

Quite a pickle. Quite a pickle indeed. Maybe I should just stay here all day tomorrow, safe under the covers; everything was so soft and warm in my rooms. I had exactly what I needed, or Petra could get it for me. The silk and velvet furnishings I’d meticulously picked out myself after we got back on our feet. My deep, claw-foot tub, and tray of various scented bubble baths. My cozy little fireplace, my thin-as-air nightgowns and matching robes, my spare easel and paint supplies in the corner. If Petra brought me food and drink up from the kitchens, I could live quite comfortably here for days. Weeks, maybe.

I snuggled farther into my bed, eyes fixed on the moon’s glow, until I finally fell asleep.

The next morning, I did not, in fact, stay in bed all day like I’d imagined, but instead made my way down to the stables as soon as possible. I’d woken up abruptly at dawn with the guilty realization that I’d forgotten about Lightning last night. I’d intended to check on him before bed—he must have been so rattled after that encounter with the orc yesterday—but after everything that happened with Maerryl’s injury, and the kiss, and the storm of thoughts in my head…

I threw on some clothes, grabbed a warm cashmere scarf for the morning’s chill, and tiptoed down the hall long before Petra would awake and bring me my breakfast. Hopefully, Maerryl was still sound asleep as well. I held my breath as I passed her door, feeling ridiculously like a thief in my own home. I stopped briefly in the kitchens to grab some carrots and sugar cubes, waving to a yawning Hanc before heading out to the stables.

Thankfully, Lightning seemed perfectly fine. I gave the horse his treats as I checked him over carefully, chatting in a low voice. Worries about the orc, Maerryl, money, my parents, my duties, everything—they drifted away the longer I stayed in the stables. Not disappeared. But diminished, at least, for a time.

Unfortunately, though, I couldn’t stay there forever. And I shouldn’t go for a ride yet—Lightning deserved a rest after the chaos of yesterday. He wasn’t getting any younger. With a final loving pat on his side and a cheek cuddle, I slipped him the last sugar cube and made my way back to the manor.

It was still very early, the sun just starting to poke up above the treetops of our estate’s section of the Willowisp Woods. An orange-rose glow streaked across the sky. As much as I loved our household staff, I still didn’t feel like talking to any non-equine people, so I avoided the kitchens entrance and instead ducked through the front door with my keys. Heading through the entryway, I’d almost reached the winding staircase—

“Dovey? What are you doing sneaking in like this?”

I froze, feeling my back go pin-straight at Mother’s alarmed voice. Turning slowly, I gave her a quick smile that she didn’t return. She stood there frowning by the entrance to the dining room, delicate teacup in hand, looking me over from head to boots.

You can go where you please, I told myself. You’re an adult. You’re over thirty!

Despite the reminders, I still felt like a kid caught doing something she shouldn’t have. Trying to at least pretend confidence, I said, “Mother. Good morning! What are you doing up so early?”

Her eyes narrowed. “Don’t you change the subject, young miss. Why were you outside? Are you… Were you coming home from a dalliance? With whom?”

I groaned. “A dalliance? Mother, stop. I was simply in the stables. Lightning seemed a bit poorly yesterday, so I wanted to check on him.” I wasn’t even lying. Not much, at least. But her stern and piercing look, hunting out any hint of impropriety, had me on edge.

Could she sense what had happened yesterday? If she found out—about everything, but mainly the attack on the road—surely, she’d forbid me from returning to the priory. Or find some way to scare me into quitting. I hadn’t realized until now, faced with the possibility of losing my work with the orphans, that I really didn’t want to. Despite the terrifying prospect of bandits, kidnappers, or generally scary assholes out there on the road. Fuck them all! Those children needed me. Or at least, they needed art. And after everything they’d been through already in their young lives, I certainly wasn’t going to be the one to disappoint them.

So my mother couldn’t find out. Nerves frazzling, I tried to act normal. Normal Dove would cross her arms and look terribly bored at her parent’s nagging. So that’s what I did, tapping my boot toe against the shiny marble floor for good measure. Mother took a sip of her tea.

“Hmm. And where is Maerryl then?”

I panicked, trying not to let it show on my face. “Oh, she’s just—”

“I’m here, Lady Wistrallo.” Maerryl stepped out from the staircase door, where she’d apparently been lurking. I ignored the jumble of feelings that rose upon seeing her—and her uncharacteristic bedhead—appear when I needed her.

My mother sniffed. “Good morning, Miss Kirim. Wait here, please. Dove, come join your father and me for breakfast. We want to speak with you.” She turned on her heel without waiting for an answer.

Maerryl and I exchanged a look that I couldn’t quite decipher, and I followed Mother into the dining room.

“Ah, my Dove! Good morning, dear,” my father said. “Close the door, there you go. Now come sit down and talk with us.”

I sighed and joined them, wishing for the millionth time that we had a round dining table, or at least a square, rather than this long monstrosity that placed them on either imperious end and me plopped in the middle twisting my neck back and forth to hold a conversation. It had always felt like there should be someone else across from me, a sibling perhaps, or a partner, with whom I could communicate silently in looks and toe nudges over our family meals. But no, it was only me. Alone.

A wild thought came to mind. Maybe I should just run away and join the priory.

“Dove? Dovey, are you listening to me?” Mother’s annoyed voice snapped me back to the present, to the quiet stillness of the dining room and my parents’ eyes on me.

“Oh yes, of course. Just, um, repeat that last bit?” I grabbed a goldenberry croissant and stabbed a chicken sausage link with my fork. “And why are you up so early anyway?”

My mother had a strict personal rule against eye rolling, but for a moment it looked like she was fighting the urge. “As I was telling you, darling, your father and I are going into the city for a few days. We’ll be back by the end of the week, and while we’re gone we urge you to stay on the estate.”

“A trip to the city? What inn did you book?” My mind called up the house accounts, our expenses and savings that I’d kept a close eye on since I’d taken over the estate’s finances.

My mother’s lips tightened, but she said lightly, “We didn’t. The Tongs invited us to stay with them for their grand revel.” She looked quite pleased with herself, and Father grinned broadly.

“We’re back on the up-and-up, my dears! Oh, ho! Yes, we are,” he said, and I tried to muster up a smile for him.

“Indeed. Yes, so we just wanted to update you on that, share the good news. And also—” Here she shared a look with Father, and my heart rate increased. I took a large gulp of tea. “We wanted to, ah, check in with you. To see, I suppose, how you’re feeling.”