Page 69 of The Curse and the Silver Rose

The white light spiraled past Amelie and flew into the air.

“It’s a swan!” shouted a little boy, pointing.

Amelie laughed in disbelief, her shoulders relaxing. The swan, comprised of sparkling white light, pirouetted in the air before fading gradually to a puff of smoke.

“Firelights,” said Raphael over the cheering and excited chatter. “Made in Hatara. I saw them at a festival in Port Hyacinth once. Very rare to see them in our lands.”

Now that her fear had dissipated, Amelie realized the hooded figure was a young man in a traveling cloak. The Dark One had not followed her.

“Firelights for sale,” the young man called to the onlookers. “One silver coin each. Get your finest firelights, all the way from the mystical dunes of Hatara.”

Buyers hastily formed a line before the man, jingling their coins in anticipation.

“Shipments from Hatara don’t often make it this far inland,” said the innkeeper, hands on her aproned hips. She had emerged to admire the spectacle along with everyone else, standing near Amelie and her brothers. “There’ve been no raider attacks for a good week or so now,” she continued. “Haven’t the faintest idea why, but I’ll not look a gift horse in the mouth. The whole land’s breathing a sigh of relief, feels like. No attacks, no pillaging. We’ve had so much food and wares come in that we barely know what to do with it all. It’s been like Yule! Good to see everyone in high spirits, isn’t it?”

Without waiting for an answer, she bounced on the balls of her feet and returned inside.

Amelie knew the reason behind the sudden lack of raider attacks, of course. Levissina had set a battalion of them on Castle Grange, only for Davron to slay the men. Amelie found herself wishing he could be here now to witness the silver lining of the ordeal. Not only had he saved her life, he had made the land safer by wiping out a band of murderous men.

Though not his intention, perhaps he would derive some relief knowing that countless people benefitted from his actions. He lived such a lonesome existence and considered himself disconnected from everybody. But he was not as disconnected as he believed, despite Levissina’s best efforts.

“Shall we get back on the road?” Raphael asked Amelie. “We could make decent headway while everyone is distracted by the firelights.”

“Good idea,” she replied, looking for her other brother. “Where is Marcel? He was here a moment ago.”

“Ah, I believe we shall ride home with firelights in our saddlebags,” said Raphael, laughing.

Marcel stood in the line to buy firelights, returning to his siblings with a parcel wrapped in parchment.

“A surprise for Colette’s wedding,” he said, his face illuminated with childlike joy. “She will love them.”

“She will indeed,” said Amelie. “That is very thoughtful.”

The horses fed and rested, the trio mounted and set off. The route was quiet, roadside lanterns and a pearlescent moon lighting the way. The horses settled into a comfortable rhythm while the siblings lapsed into silence, riding in single file, alone with their thoughts. Owls hooted in the trees. Now and then, one took flight, arcing through the air on angelic wings.

The journey reminded Amelie of her ride in the opposite direction, when she’d snuck away in the night to present herself to Davron. How long ago that felt. On that occasion, fear and anxiety consumed her, tinged with excitement.

Now, on her return journey, she had the curious sensation of being pulled in two directions. As much as she looked forward to returning to the cottage with her family, part of her simultaneously wound invisibly through the air back toward Castle Grange—toward Davron.

How could she reconcile longing for two places at once, and very much so? Perhaps it would pass. She had only just left, and the highly charged nature of the past few days was sure to have left a deep impression.

Amelie told herself this because it was far more bearable than the alternative—that she had made a terrible mistake leaving Davron, and would never stop feeling this way.

Her somber rumination only abated when she and her brothers approached the outskirts of their village, shortly before dawn. The sky lightened to pink and amethyst, casting a gentle sheen on her surroundings. She smiled at the welcoming familiarity of the trees, dwellings, and even the hand-painted roadside signs.

“Wait, Raphael,” said Amelie as he turned down the wrong laneway. “Where are you going? I haven’t been gone so long that I have forgotten where our cottage is, have I?”

He glanced over his shoulder, continuing on the incorrect road. “Davron did not tell you?”

Amelie followed, with Marcel in her wake. “Tell me what?”

“We have a new house, Amelie. After you left, an esquire arrived with notice of your safe arrival at Castle Grange and quite a sizable gift. A gift in gold coin. We tried to refuse, but the esquire was too afraid of disobeying Davron to allow us.”

“Oh—” said Amelie. “I did not know. And to think, you already had all that coin from father’s insurance payout.”

Marcel cleared his throat. “Ah, that came from Davron, too. There was no insurance. He said it was important that he take care of the people you love.”

“I see. Well. That certainly does sound like him.”

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