Page 3 of Stolen Thorn Bride

“Good morning,” Kasia called as she poked her head through the front door. “I’m about to start on the garden, so let me know if there’s anything in particular you wish me to do today.”

“Come in, come in.” Gianessa rushed into view from somewhere, her curly dark hair standing out around her head like a crown. “Sit. Sit and have a scone with me before you go.”

“I wish I could,” Kasia said regretfully, “but I really do need to finish quickly today. Ell is in a mood, Rordyn has to work, and I need to get back.”

“Then take it with you, my dear.” Gianessa peered into Kasia’s eyes for a moment before grumbling something incoherent and shoving a pair of still-warm scones into Kasia’s vest pockets. “And do bring me some mugwort if there’s any that hasn’t gone to seed. Also, you might have a look at the pig enclosure. The corner was loose when I went down for a chat with them last night.”

Kasia suppressed a sigh and headed back out the door with the unwelcome conviction that today would not be as simple as she’d hoped. Carpentry was not exactly her strongest skill, and the pigs’ pen could charitably be called a patched-together disaster.

At least the garden—in its clearing behind the house—was still quiet and warm, so Kasia lingered there for an extra moment or two as she completed her chores. It was a rare opportunity to soak up the feeling of peace and the gentle hum of life as she rooted out weeds, removed dead flowers, and prepared the beds for spring planting.

Even in the winter, Gianessa’s garden thrived, and Kasia no longer thought to question it. She knew it had something to do with the mage’s life-force magic, but that wasn’t something Garimorans acknowledged aloud. As far as everyone else was concerned, it was simply how things were, and the whole village had cause to be grateful.

Once two of the beds were fully spaded, Kasia fetched fertilizer from behind the animal shed, spread it liberally over the freshly turned earth, then went looking for Gianessa’s mugwort. She found a few wilting flowers that she cut and pocketed before bending down to loosen the soil in the herb bed.

It was dark and cool, and as she buried her hands to the wrist, humming under her breath, Kasia suddenly found steam rising from the rich, dark earth.

Yanking her hands out and cursing under her breath, she looked around, knowing full well no one else came out this way, but unable to help her fear. If anyone ever saw…

She was so careful. Careful not to lose focus or let her mind wander. But out here in Gianessa’s garden, with the hum and whisper of life all around her, it felt safe. Comforting. As though she could actually be herself, and no one would condemn her for it.

Kasia knew better. Even her sister…

Jumping to her feet, she strode purposefully towards the animal shed, determined to divert her mind from those thoughts. Fortunately, dealing with the pig enclosure ought to be just the thing.

* * *

Sure enough,the ties that held the northeast corner of the fence together were frayed, and there was no more rope anywhere in the shed. After feeding and milking the cow, narrowly avoiding being pecked by a hen who objected to her egg being stolen, and spending a moment chatting with the pigs (who were her favorites because they actually seemed to listen), Kasia returned to the cottage and placed the mugwort carefully on Gianessa’s worktable.

“I’ll have to pick up some rope in town,” she said, not entirely sure whether her employer would hear her, engrossed as she was in whatever potion she was currently brewing. “I’ll bring it back with me tomorrow if that’s all right.”

The mage glanced up from her work. “Money’s in the jar,” she said briefly. “Take what you need.” Then her eyes narrowed. “What’s wrong?”

For a woman who could barely remember to eat, Gianessa could be remarkably sharp at times—all the wrong times.

“Nothing,” Kasia lied. “Just fussing about Ell and Liam, that’s all. They’re young to be on their own, and I worry.”

“Pfft.” Gianessa waved a hand. “Just bring them with you when you come. You know I love children.”

She did. The trouble was, none of the village children lovedher. They called her a witch behind her back and accused her of turning people into goats.

“I… uh…”

Gianessa’s eyes came into sudden sharp focus on Kasia’s face. “You’ve never told them, have you? About your gift.”

Kasia dropped her chin and shook her head. Only Gianessa thought of it as a gift. To anyone else in the village, it would be a curse. “They’re too young,” she said in a low voice. “Too young to keep the secret, and besides, all they know is what they’ve heard. From Papa, and from others.”

“Hmmm.” The mage eyed her for a moment. “It isn’t like I don’t understand, but you do none of you any favors by denying it.”

“And I would by admitting it publicly?” Kasia protested. “The village already treats us like we might be contagious.”

Or at least they had since she started working for Gianessa. Since her father stopped coming home every month. How could she give them one more thing to gossip about?

Gianessa shrugged. “It’s your own business, my dear. But denying a part of yourself brings no good in the end.”

Perhaps. Perhaps Kasia would consider revealing the truth if they lived somewhere else. Somewhere like Farhall, where mages were accepted, and even encouraged. Maybe then she could find a way to do more than struggle from day to day, hoping only for their survival. Maybe she could develop her gift, look forward to a future and a home of her own… maybe even find love.

But here? Here she was no one. Here she was fighting to feed her family. Who would want her when she came with no money, no land, no talents, and three younger siblings? Who in Garimore would want to risk marrying a mage-cursed girl with no future?

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