“My wife passed from illness,” he replied with a glance at his daughters. “Last winter.”
“Oh. I am very sorry.”
Amelie felt a pang of sympathy. No wonder Oskar was so anxious about his sick son.
Julie gave no indication she heard their conversation, continuing to place the peeled potatoes in a bowl, but Sigrid spoke up.
“Papa still talks to her though, by the fire at night, when we’re in bed.”
“Hush, Sigrid,” said Oskar, busying himself with teacups. “Amelie does not wish to hear such things. Nor do I want you speaking them, truth be told.”
The girl shrugged and continued peeling.
Amelie sat at the table. “May I help?” she asked the girls.
“We’re nearly finished,” said Julie without meeting Amelie’s eyes. “Thank ye, though.”
Oskar brought steaming mugs of tea to the table, placing one in front of Amelie.
“Fresh mint,” he said, sitting next to her. “Hope that’s alright.”
As much as she’d wanted to be on her way, the unexpected diversion of Oskar and his children and the bright little cottage was a balm of its own for Amelie’s spirit.
“What do you do for fun?” she asked the girls, sipping her tea. “I love to read, and walk in the forest. My sister and I like to practice sword fighting, too.”
Sigrid’s face brightened, and even Julie looked up.
“See, Papa!” said the younger one. “They’re allowed!”
Oskar chuckled. “Amelie is grown, and I’d wager her sister is, too.”
“Papa, when can we learn to fight?” asked Julie, her face solemn. “We’ll be careful.”
There was a knock at the door.
“Thank the gods.” Oskar got up, winking at Amelie. “I’m saved from this particular conversation.”
“For now!” called Sigrid after him.
He opened the door to a young man in a traveling cloak. An older woman in a heavy shawl with white hair stood behind him. She had sharp features and clever eyes.
“Son, you’re back,” said Oskar, letting the pair inside. “And you’ve brought Reylene. Welcome. Come in.”
They squeezed into the small kitchen, and Oskar made introductions.
“This is my son, Benoit,” he said. The young man nodded hello to Amelie. “And Reylene is the healer from Croela. Please meet Amelie, from the Castle Grange.”
At this, both Benoit and Reylene openly appraised her. Oskar’s cottage was becoming crowded now, and Hugo was in good hands. Amelie decided it was time to take her leave.
She stood. “I’ll look in on Hugo. Then I’d better be on my way, while it’s still daylight.”
“Oh, certainly,” said Oskar, the deep crease between his brows beginning to ease. “I can not thank you enough for bringing the medicine.”
“It’s my pleasure,” replied Amelie, taking her mug to the wash bowl.
Reylene’s eyes tracked her as she moved through the kitchen to the bedroom.
Hugo was asleep, but his breathing sounded clearer and his cheeks had new color. Not wanting to wake him, she tiptoed out of the room.