Page 5 of Stolen Thorn Bride

“But if no one has seen any elves, how do we know they’re real? How do we know they will really execute anyone who crosses their borders?” Ellery demanded.

“We don’t,” Kasia admitted. There had been tales through the years of disappearances—a few unlucky souls who vanished never to return—but there was no way to conclusively blame the elves. Kasia knew perfectly well that her mother, at least, had vanished for disappointingly mundane reasons. “But there’s still the Hedge.”

Gianessa had warned her of the Hedge on her first day.

“If you go far into the forest past the cottage,” she’d said, “you’ll find it. Can’t miss it. Just don’t touch it and don’t worry about it.”

So, of course, Kasia had gone looking. She’d expected something like the brambles that grew wild in the forest and formed a barrier on one edge of Gianessa’s garden. What she found instead left her feeling shivery and odd.

The Hedge was a towering wall of firethorn, grown so thick and tall, she could see neither over nor through. And in all the times Kasia had glimpsed it through the trees, the branches always bore both flowers and berries, alongside those long, shining thorns that promised to shred anything or anyone who attempted to force their way through. There was clearly magic involved, and the idea both frightened her and drew her near, as to a flame she didn’t understand but couldn’t quite look away from.

But one thing, at least, was obvious—the elves, if they existed, were quite serious about being left alone.

“But why?” Liam interrupted her thoughts. “Why would they kill humans just for crossing?”

“Because the legends say,” Kasia informed him, “that they are beings of peace, harmony, and beauty. Scholars and artists who do not wish their communion with nature to be disturbed by wild human children.”

“That’s right.” Ellery giggled suddenly. “Because we’re smelly and dirty.”

“And loud,” Kasia agreed with a smile. “And also very bad at going to bed on time.”

Over Ellery’s insistent protests, Kasia tucked the little ones into bed, kissed them goodnight, and wondered how she was going to stay awake long enough to do the washing and mending that had piled up over the past week.

It seemed never-ending. And while Kasia could now understand all too clearly why her mother might have despaired when her husband went off once again, leaving her with a new baby and three older children—only one of whom was old enough to be much help—she could also feel the injustice of her mother’s flight far more keenly.

One could not flee from burdens without dropping them on someone else. So no matter how tired she grew, no matter how old she felt, or how much further away her own dreams might seem, Kasia would never run.

But she could imagine, rather wistfully, what it might be like if those burdens were shared.

Not that there was anyone in the village she could imagine sharing them with. Nor in all of Garimore, she feared. But surely out there somewhere was someone who might not judge her for being as she was. For her unwashed hair or the ragged patches on her clothes. For having charge of three younger siblings, or for the magic that burned in her veins whether she wished for it or not.

But even if such a man existed, how would he find her in a pig pen?

Chapter 2

Kasia awakened just before dawn, as usual, but even from her pallet in the corner, was instantly aware that all wasnotas usual with the rest of the house.

The fire had already been built up, and Rordyn crouched in front of it, looking even moodier than he normally did.

At fourteen, he’d begun to stretch into his full height, and while he was now two inches taller than Kasia, he was still gangly and awkward. And entirely too serious for his age. Rordyn keenly felt the need to help, but rarely knew how, and generally expressed that need by disapproving of anything new.

Or perhaps just anything he felt Papa would also disapprove of, such as Kasia going to work for Gianessa.

He’d grown even worse since beginning his job at the apothecary in the village—a job he should already be at come this time of the morning.

“What’s wrong?”

When Rordyn only continued to poke at the fire, Kasia sat up, rubbed the sleep from her eyes, and focused more sharply on his face.

“Rory, talk to me. Why aren’t you at work?”

He stabbed viciously at the flaming logs. “I was let go.” His voice sounded subdued, but his expression was angry.

When she didn’t say anything right away, he set the poker down and threw her a quick, tormented glance.

“It wasn’t my fault. The other boys started it.”

Oh dear.

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