“I keep forgetting that you stopped shaking,” Aurelie watched Maud pour the kettle into her cup while she held it for her. Not a drop missed. She beamed with pride.

  Once Maud finished pouring, she filled her own cup, and set the kettle on its hook in the hearth. They had moved the table back from the hearth after getting into warm clothes and spread the black fur pelt across the floor. A few pillows from their beds and they had the perfect spot. The sweet smell of the tea filled the orange glow of the fire.

  Aurelie was surprised that she was the only one shivering still. She pulled the golden pelt a little higher over her shoulders.

  Maud nudged her with her foot. “Scoot.”

  Aurelie chuckled a little and slid over enough for Maud to sit beside her. She sat so that their sides were snug and pulled the golden pelt across her stretched legs before lifting her cup with both hands to blow at the steam.

  “Wonder if Draka will ask for these back,” Aurelie said as she lifted her cup in almost exactly the same way.

  “I’ll just sneak them out again,” Maud shrugged and took a sip. She squinted.

  “I’ll distract him.”

  “Not that it’d be that hard to do,” Maud flicked her brows, watching the fire that cast orange and red across her face in wafts.

  They both giggled between sips. The warmth of the fire kept Aurelie’s shivers mild enough that she didn’t have to worry about spilling it. The change in her daughter was stark. The little girl who would daydream in the woods, that jittery little ball of sunshine, had grown up. As she watched her daughter set the cup down beside her and lean back on her elbows to watch the fire just beyond the wafts of heat, she saw it. Oh, she still had knots in her dark hair, those vibrant green…blue eyes?

  She took the opportunity with gusto. She twisted to set the steaming cup down and shot the other way to grab Maud’s head and try to pull her eyelids open. Maud swatted at her with a giggly laugh.

  “Stop it! What are you doing?” Maud playfully dropped back from her.

  “I’m trying to look at your eyes!” Aurelie mimicked Maud’s voice. “They’re blue. How did they change color?”

  “What do you mean they changed color?” Maud swatted her hand away and raised herself back on her elbows.

  “They’re blue now,” Aurelie crossed her legs with her back against the fire. Even though she had dried herself off before putting on the dry dress, her hair still soaked through it. She felt the cold being pushed away by the warmth of the flames. “Well, greenish blue. When did that happen?”

  “I don’t know,” Maud crinkled her brow. As if she could see her own eyes, she began picking at her eyelids. She blinked after poking herself. She rocked on her elbows, thumping one. “Ugh, I wish Draka had told me. I bet he knows.”

  “You and Draka spend a lot of time together.” Aurelie didn’t mean to sound so concerned. Her daughter wasn’t a little girl anymore. Hadn’t been for a while, but to Aurelie, she’ll always be her little windleaf.

  Maud rolled her eyes. She shifted to one elbow so she could take another sip of her tea. “Please don’t start.” She took a sip. “I swear if you start on that marriage thing again, I will throw you into the fire.”

  Aurelie chuckled and took a longer sip since her tea had cooled just right. “No, I s’pose not.”

  “He’s my second Pa.”

  Aurelie sent her mouthful spraying into the fire to a symphony of crackles and sizzles.

  “No, I mean…well, like Pa…I mean, of course he can’t be Pa or—you know—but it’s just…I don’t know, maybe that’s…no,” Maud flopped backward, landing her head on the pillow hard enough that there was a muffled thump.

  “It’s alright,” Aurelie lay on her side beside her. “I think I understand. I just thought that…with you spending so much time over there, taking care of his house and all…”

  Maud huffed. Aurelie tried to lean into her upward gaze, but Maud refused to look at her. Why do you always have to do that? Please don’t fight me. I really like this, Aurelie silently begged.

  After a deep breath, Maud finally turned her eyes to her. “Don’t take this the wrong way, please, I beg you. Draka was there when you weren’t. He did things for me. Like, when I was crying all the time—I couldn’t stop—he would have me help with his skinning or show me how to use his bow against those horrid owls, things like that. And when you didn’t come out…”

  Aurelie looked to the ceiling, pleading for her sanity to return, “He taught you how to use a bow?”

  “Uh-huh, and ride,” Maud nodded her head the way she did when she was small. Her fingers danced in the air above her as she said, “Please don’t be mad. I miss Pa, but it was…easier this way.”

  “Not mad,” Aurelie began petting Maud’s head, running her fingers through her hair. Yup, there’s a knot. She tried to carefully pull it out but Maud brushed her arm back. “Sorry,” Aurelie pulled her hand back sheepishly. “I’m not mad. I’m thankful for him.”

  “You are?”

  “Yeah,” Aurelie returned to petting Maud’s head. Their gazes met and her heart warmed.

  “Are you sure? I was scared that you might be if I told you.”

  “Not even a little. Well,” Aurelie winced playfully, “maybe a little.”

  Maud sat up, “No, don’t. Please. He’s all I’ve…well, he’s important to me.”

  Unauthorized tale usage: if you spot this story on Amazon, report the violation.

  “He’s a far better man than I gave him credit for. He’d make a good husband. And he’d be lucky to have you for a wife.”

  “Gross.”

  They both laughed, swaying against each other.

  “Sometimes, I catch him watching me while I do my chores. Like how Pa would watch me playing in the forest when he thought I couldn’t see him. It’s the same look. I think, maybe, he wishes that I was his actual daughter. I’m glad I’m not…but sometimes I wish I was. He’s pretty good at it. Not as good as Pa, but close.”

  “I’m sorry you had to go to him because of me,” Aurelie sank back from her. “I should have been there for you. I just…”

  “Stop,” Maud interrupted her. “I’m glad you’re here now.” She jerked her back straight and reached for her cup again.

  A brush of firelight lit her up and Aurelie gasped. She always wondered why Maud looked so different from her and Balor. At times, she worried that Balor wouldn’t claim her because of it. But now, she saw. Maud was nearly a twin to her Aunt Leta. The eyes, the hair, the nose, the mouth, the chin, even the way she leaned back on her elbows. How could she have missed it all this time? Twenty-two years and she only realized it now.

  “What?” Maud raised a brow at her.

  “I guess I’ve been away long enough to really see you. You look just like Leta when she was your age. I never saw that before.”

  “Again, gross.”

  Aurelie chuckled, “That’s fair. But, I tell you what, I think Draka knows exactly what he’s doing with you.”

  “Yeah?”

  “Leta could get any man she wanted with just a look. And Draka is making my little girl a reading, writing Lady who will catch every nobleman’s eye she passes.” Aurelie held her cup in front of her with a sideways glance, “though I wonder if you being able to shoot a bow might be his way of making sure the one you catch is worth his grain.”

  Maud’s brows flicked at her. “I’m pretty good. And fast, too. I can catch an owl while its flying.”

  “Wow,” Aurelie’s eyes widened as she gulped a mouthful of tea. She looked at the warm liquid with pride. “This is really good.”

  “You like it? I mixed chamomile with a couple pinches of cinnamon. I can’t wait until the harvest and I can get some apples and peaches. And pears. If they actually come and sell at the market before going to Berone or Alcer.”

  “You keep saying ‘market.’ What market?”

  “Oh, at the lake fort. They have a market there now. That’s where I get everything now.”

  “With what? You’re not spending your dowry, are you? After all we went through to get it back,” Aurelie winced at bringing back the subject of marriage, even if it was only insinuated. “I didn’t mean to say that. I’m sorry. Don’t mind me.”

  “Draka has my dowry, and he gives me coin for the market,” Maud dismissed it with a wave of one hand while tipping her cup for a drink with the other. “I tried to get him to let me sell his pelts, but I think he’s worried Vigora will cause too much of a ruckus if she’s there for too long.”

  “That little shit,” Aurelie said under her breath. She still hasn’t forgiven that beast for stealing from her garden. She blinked, “Wait, why would that—thing—be there?”

  “She’s my guard horse. I won’t go to market without her.”

  “Guard horse? Don’t think I’ve ever heard of that before.”

  “Heh,” Maud beamed, “One time, she kicked a bucket into Dalfur. Hit him right in the face. Hard enough that it broke.” She began laughing hard enough that she struggled to say, “His nose is a little crooked now. And every time he comes close, she just lifts a leg and…and…no more Dalfur. He runs for his life!”

  “Good,” Aurelie said flatly. “What else have I missed?”

  “Well, Aunt Leta sells potpourri and smelly stuff, Uncle Gregory sells stuff too. Fish oil, mostly. The fish all go to the fishery for the boatmen to take in barrels. And the Baron's men are still here. Gerard is their captain.” Aurelie barely caught Maud’s underhanded, “Though I wish he wasn’t.” Then, louder, she said, “And there are Friars, now. There’s a priest, too, though I’ve never seen or met him. I’ve seen the Friars, though. They are always trying to get people to go to the river or the new canal.”

  “Friars? What are those?”

  “I don’t know, really. Priests, I think. But not the same. Pierre doesn’t like them. He said that I shouldn’t talk to them without Draka for some reason. Oh! Did I tell you about all the new people in the village?”

  “Nope,” Aurelie eyed her. Then, she nudged Maud’s shoulder with a lean, “But I want to know.”

  “I’ve only met a few of them. The new vendors, mostly. They came from all over the kingdom to see Draka. Must be hundreds of them. If you stand on the roof and look across the lake, you can see all their houses. Well, not really houses, but they live in them.”

  “On the roof, huh?”

  “Or climb a tree. Roof is easier.”

  “To the rivers it is!” Aurelie wished she was standing so she could put her hands on her hips. “Now, I can handle you riding a horse and playing with bows, but going up on the roof is absolutely not okay.”

  Maud gaped at her for a moment. Then she fell back, cackling. She pointed at Aurelie, trying to sit up only to fall down with laughter again.

  “I mean it, I don’t want you up on the roof.”

  Once her laughter faded into waves of giggles, she said with a roll of her eyes, “Next time, I’ll bring you with me.”

  “You will not.”

  “Oh, yes. Yes, I will.”

  “I’m serious!”

  Maud sat up on her elbows again, “And I’m joking. Of course I don’t go up on the roof. Who does that? Plus, you can see everything from Draka’s. Maybe tomorrow you can come with me to finish cleaning up before he gets back.”

  “Help you clean up—after him?” Aurelie crooked her brow at her. “Not sure I like that idea.”

  “He’s not there. It’ll just be us. Plus, I need someone to help me move his table and desk. I hate how he has everything in the way. Sometimes, I think he just prefers things to trip everyone.” And Maud was laying down again so she could look up at the rafters.

  “Maybe you should leave his home the way he likes it, ever think that?”

  Maud shrugged, “Why would I think that? He’s the one who thought moving the table over the hatch will stop me from going under his house. Well, joke’s on him. I’ve been moving it a little each day for weeks. Got it almost completely past the hinges and he hasn’t noticed yet.”

  “You’ve been moving his table so you can crawl underneath his house?”

  “Oh, no,” Maud chuckled with pride, “I’m moving it so I don’t have to go back out through the back anymore.”