Page 196 of Fated or Knot

Sunshine gilded her skin and drew out the silvery highlights in her hair. Instead of looking at the water, a sight that’d become quite mundane since I’d seen it my whole life, I drank her in instead. Her wings sparkled with shimmers, loosing purple and silver dust as the opened and shut contentedly behind her like she was an overgrown butterfly.

Stars, I could just live in this moment. She eventually turned her gaze up to meet mine, cocking her head thoughtfully at whatever she saw. “Sliver for your thoughts?” she murmured.

“Do you ever want to take a memory and put it in a bottle? So you can look inside the glass and see it again whenever you want? I want to do that right now. To see a free, healthy Lark in the sun.”One just a little extra pink with pre-heat.“My sweet li’l bird where she belongs.”

She made a soft sound and slid forward, putting her free arm around me and purring. I was helpless except to do the same. “You have such a nice way with words.”

“Now, I’m not sure about that. Maybe only when I’m talking about you,” I teased. While I read plenty of poetry, not much of it seemed to stick. Unlike my brothers, who could recite songs and whole passages from the books they’d read. That was why I had one of my favorite poetry books secreted in Rory’s saddlebags, to get the words right. “Shall we have lunch and head back? I figured we could have a picnic…over there.”

I pointed back the way we’d come, toward a stand of trees and flowering bushes. There was a clearing in the shade where we could sit for a while and let the horses crop the grass and rest.

Lark agreed enthusiastically, and I had a moment of nerves as I checked to make sure her handmaidens had secured the picnic basket before they’d returned to the palace on an ingredients run. It was there, with its mysterious “improvements” made by the house moths. I unfurled the blanket and set out a light meal of bread, cheese, and fruit.

There were the improvements hidden to the side: napkins, sealed jars of lemonade, even more food, and a small ring toss game with neon-bright rings. The latter seemed like the kind of thing only a house moth would think of.

I dragged the blanket closer to a tree trunk and sat reclined against it. We ate to the soundtrack of nature, the whisper of wind through the leaves and branches above our heads, and the flow of water. “Do you ever want to go back to Thelis?” I asked her.

“Someday, maybe. I saw so little of it, but it was my home for most of my life. I can’t imagine going back without you and your brothers, though,” she said.

I smiled at the idea. “It’d be an adventure. I’d love to go with you. My Theli is getting better, aye?”

“Stars, yes,” she giggled. “You’re not overthinking it anymore. And your accent is cute.”

“Well, when you speak Serian, I think it’s cute you substitute in Theli words for what you don’t know.” She tended to switch to talk to me, specifically, when I was struggling with my Theli.

She covered her face with a groan. “I don’t even notice when I do that! It justhappens.”

“It’s adorable,” I assured her.

“Ugh, sure, but it’s so embarrassing when Fal will cross his eyes and repeat back what I said word for word.” She scootedcloser, laying down beside me, half in the grass, her hands folded over her middle. She rested her head in my lap.

“Ach. He goes too far sometimes.” I stilled like an actual bird had alighted on my thigh, not my mate. She adjusted to get more comfortable and turned her eyes skyward. The branches above were still sparse enough to reveal the outlines of puffy clouds drifting by.

It was the perfect moment to pull out my poetry book. “Before we head back, I wanted to read to you, li’l bird. I haven’t been able to share my favorites with you.”

Back on the train, I’d considered trying to translate them for her, but my understanding of Theli hadn’t been sufficient to capture the deeper meaning behind specific word choices and rhymes.

“I’d love to hear them,” she said, turning an expectant look at me.

The poet had been a similar age to us when he’d penned these works. He wrote slice of life content that I tended to relate to. I’d grown into the works I started to read aloud, since at first I didn’t find that I could understand why he mused over whether or not he could live in his mate’s shadow. But I read that back to Lark and chuckled to myself. I would choose to live in her shadow in a heartbeat, if only to emerge at the first sign of potential danger to her.

And to love on her, of course. I tamped down the warmth threatening to heat my blood, too entranced by the way she soaked in every poem and gave it a minute or two of thought before voicing her opinions. It was the way I processed it too, lingering on the prettiest words and most insightful turns of phrase.

I would thinkrelatableand uncover a tiny insight into my soul. And now, this moment with Lark, and how it felt toreveal bits of myself to her in every verse, would live on in my memories forever.

54

LARK

Tormund and I returned to the winter lodge just past sunset. We went straight to the kitchen and were swiftly joined by Jani and Lon, and eventually a curious Kauz. I’d asked to make an old, humble favorite, meat pies. The whole process took hours, and the house moths and I did most of the work at first. Tormund chased his brother around with flour until Kauz found a safe perch up in the rafters to read in peace.

My gentle giant returned to being helpful after that. The pies themselves turned out delicious and I hadn’t laughed so much in ages.

I had another rough time finding sleep, worse than the night before. An ache deep in my belly was making itself known, and I’d shifted around trying to find a comfortable spot, just for there to be none. Kauz had been half asleep when he’d finally brushed his finger down the ridge of my nose, mumbling something about my heat, and sent me into unconsciousness for a couple hours. I’d slept in his arms since Tormund was still showing early signs of rut.

Stars, my heat was really coming. The suppressant I’d just gotten from Thalas was fading, even though we’d been chaste throughout this trip. While the physical signs of pre-heat hadn’t fully returned, and I was glad I hadn’t been knocked over by a cramp, the emotional ones hit me with debilitating force instead.

Before we left to journey back to the palace, Tormund had one more surprise for me. He took me to a tiny room and told me a bit of the story of the critter room through the doorway, as he’d probably have to stoop low to come in here. He directed my attention to the little cat tower in the corner and I squealed unabashedly in delight as a few small faces peeked out at me.

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