Page 16 of Lily of the Valley

Then she threw herself in the chair by the fire, folded her arms across her chest, and scowled at the place where Scout had been just moments ago. How could a woman so beautiful and compelling also be so fucking annoying.

She couldn't believe Scout just thought she'd go back to the palace and never have anything to do with her again. Scout had saved her life, of course Lily would want to keep in touch. Remain friends, if they could be called that.

Maybe she was presuming, though. Maybe Scout was hoping that she'd cut all ties. That made sense, going back to a peaceful life where she didn't have to worry about a queen popping in to make a mess yet again.

Heaving a sigh, she rose to her feet again, walking around the cabin tidying up things that didn't really need tidying, and fetching her basket of sewing since it was all she'd have to do for the next day or so. Setting the basket by the chair, she went into the back room to see what she could do about dinner. Nothing anywhere near what Scout could make, but she'd learned a few things. She was surprised Scout trusted her to cook all alone, especially since—

Lily stopped.

Scout trusted her. She'd left Lily all alone here to fend for herself, trusting she'd stay inside and not do something stupid. Or go snooping around.

Maybe she was being optimistic; it wasn't like there'd been much choice in the matter.

Sighing, Lily swept her gaze over the storeroom—and stopped as she noticed something that definitely hadn't been in here before. A trunk, and a beautiful one at that. It was made from some dark wood she didn't recognize, carved all over to resemble a snowy mountain scape, and when she looked closely there was a pack of wolves running amidst them.

Her stomach knotted. Wolves. She never wanted to see so much as a single wolf ever again.

She knelt in front of the truck, tracing the beautiful carvings, before pushing at the lid, which lifted up easily, thumping against the wall behind it. Inside the trunk was…nothing much. Chainmail. What looked like a tunic, neatly folded. A wooden box, the kind that likely held jewelry, and beneath all of that…

Velvet and taffeta. A gown, a luxurious gown. The kind a person might wear to a ball, or an important banquet…or their wedding. The gown was a deep, wine red, a costly dye, and trimmed in gold-toned lace, even more costly. Not the kind of gown a 'mere' woodcutter would buy, or possess, unless it was an heirloom or something.

Scout had been nobility once, or something very near.

Heart racing, Lily slammed the trunk closed and pushed to her feet. Scout had trusted her to be here alone, and she was already letting curiosity get the better of her. Whatever Scout may have been, it was none of her business, and neither was the contents of the trunk. She must have pulled it out to get something out of it and for whatever reason not stowed it again.

Abandoning the trunk, she focused on her original mission, pulling out some smoked meat to cook up and some vegetables she could cut and roast with the meat. Once all of that was cooking, she did a bit of sewing while watching over it.

Come dinner time, though, all she felt was a sudden wash of loneliness. More than two weeks she'd been here, now, healing and learning, arguing and storming off in frustration… but the meals she enjoyed with Scout were…soft, easy. No political machinations to keep track of, no would-be suitors to tactfully rebuff, no multiple conversations to keep going at once. No being princess, or queen. Just Lily. Talking about their day, lapsing into easy silences, harmlessly bickering over little things that didn't matter and ended with them both laughing.

Damn it, why couldn't Scout just be easy to hate? Lily liked her, even when she wanted to punch her in the damned nose.

Finishing her desultory dinner, she cleaned up and returned to her sewing until her eyes grew too sore and heavy to continue working. Putting the sewing away, she then added a couple more logs to the fire so it would burn through the night, made certain the spark-shield was in front of it, and washed up before crawling into bed.

She really would miss this quilt when she was home again. How soft it was, how pretty, how warm and comforting, how it still smelled like Scout, wild and sweet, even though Lily had been using the bed since Scout had brought her here.

Safe and warm, Lily drifted easily to sleep—but woke with a start, a scream in her throat, memories of her father's brutal murder in her mind. And that one memory brought all the others, all the fears. Her dead friends. What had become of the bodies? Had they been treated properly? Were they tossed away and left to rot? What of their families? Not that all her friends had family.

Tears streamed down her face, sobs catching in her throat and causing her to hiccup. Throwing back the blankets, Lily went to make tea, because it was clear she would not be going back to sleep tonight. She'd thought the nightmares had faded off, though very little time at all had passed, but clearly they'd just been waiting to catch her off guard.

Returning to the bed, Lily dragged the quilt off it and wrapped it around her before making up her mug of tea and curling up by the fire. Beyond the cabin, she could faintly hear owls, other nocturnal creatures. The wind was high, and she bet if she went outside it would smell like rain. Hopefully that wouldn't impede Scout and she'd still be back soon.

She considered resuming her sewing, but immediately dismissed the idea. Right then, she could use Clarissa's soothing voice reading to her, or Leigh singing a song. Alice tended to be quiet, rarely offering up more than commentary on what others contributed, ever the silent, deadly one ready for anything. Penelope always had the gossip, and Josiah when he joined them on the occasional night always had the most fascinating stories to tell. Sometime it seemed they were real stories he'd lived, he told them so vividly, even though they were clearly made up.

Being completely alone was not something she wanted to experience ever again. This was miserable. She'd rather have Scout making fun of her for not knowing how to…do whatever chore she still couldn't manage. Scrub the floor, maybe.

Sighing at her empty cup, Lily got up to refill it then burrowed into the quilt again, letting her thoughts drift from one nothing to another, desperately avoiding the shadows of her nightmares and the memories of friends who were probably dead.

Eventually, she fell asleep again, and this time thankfully the nightmares left her in peace.

Intruders

She was sweeping the floor when she heard them: voices. Deep, masculine, familiar in tone if not in actual voice. Ice ran down her spine, but she didn't go rushing to the window as much as she wanted to, instead fleeing to the back of the cabin, behind the worktable, and sliding to the ground so that if anyone looked in they wouldn't see her.

Boots stomping heavily as they climbed the stairs and trod across the porch. The rub of gloves on glass as someone peered through the window. Voices, too muffled to hear clearly. Then someone hammered on the door, calling out a greeting in a voice so painfully cheerful that Lily shuddered.

She looked at the door, then at the knot in the wood that would open the hideaway. The idea of hiding away was more repulsive than ever. She was already hiding in the woods, after having to run away.

But as much as she hated it, she wasn't a fighter, and even if she was, she wouldn't fare well against experienced mercenaries who were also wolves. Scout, maybe, she seemed tough enough for that, but she wasn't there.

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