Page 94 of Stardust Child

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Moving day.

Ophele woke up shivering, pulling the blankets over her head and searching for Remin. He had a knack for building fires that lasted until morning, and banked the heat with the warmth of his big body. Sleepily, she squirmed backward, and found only cool sheets on his side of the bed. He was gone, miles and miles away now, sleeping in the forest where the devils were.

And she had just spent her last night in their cottage alone.

Ophele sat up and went to stoke the fire.

She ought not to think that way. Lady Verr said she should think of it as an opportunity to arrange the manor just as she liked and see how pleased he would be when he came home to find everything in order, with a pretty wife to greet him.

But what if everythingwasn’tin order?

“Your Grace? It is morning, my lady,” called Lady Verr from the door, and Ophele straightened and went to let her in.

Somehow, Lady Verr had conjured a lovely new gown for the occasion, or an old one so extensively refurbished that Ophele hardly recognized it. Yes, that was her old blue dress redone with cheerful touches of peach and cream, tailored so it fit her like a glove. New sleeves belled from her elbows to her wrists, and there was just enough fabric left over for a pretty cap to nestle against the knot of curls on the back of her head.

She was admiring her reflection in the mirror when Sir Justenin appeared with breakfast, handing it through the window.

“Your Grace. My lady,” he said, with a polite bow. “The wagon willbe here in a quarter hour.”

There was no reason that this should make her anxious. The only thing Ophele had to do for moving day was get out of the way of it. Remin had made arrangements for the next six months of her life, before he left, and Lady Verr seemed determined to manage the rest; she had scarcely finished her tea before she was diving into their trunks with an industry Ophele would never have expected from a Rose of Segoile.

The servants arrived next, with Adelan driving the box wagon and Sim and Jaose in the back, hopping nimbly down as he drew Brambles to a halt. Adelan immediately took matters in hand, identifying the precious and breakable items for careful packing. Those belonged to Ophele, for the most part: there was the glass bear, the rosewood jewelry box Miche had given her for her birthday, the peacock from Tounot, and Remin’s mother’s embroidery box. The teacups, which would rejoin the tea service Duchess Ereguil had sent all those months ago. All of it was wrapped carefully in the pink blanket, put in a crate, and stowed in the front of the wagon, where Sim would cling to it all the way up to the manor.

The contents of the washstand went next, wrapped in bed linens and placed in Remin’s trunk, with Ophele’s smaller trunk nestled alongside it in the back of the wagon. The washstand itself. Remin’s armor stand, empty of both armor and sword. Ophele’s books, which had grown to a collection of over two dozen, enough to fill a crate by themselves. Then the lamps, the hearth tools, and the kettle, and when the table and chairs were gone, Ophele stood alone in the cottage, with dust motes dancing in the shafts of sunlight.

This was the first real home she had had since her mother died.

It looked small. And empty.

Ophele turned a small circle, remembering how strange it had looked, the day she arrived. Remin had been so angry, and she had been so frightened she had nearly gone out that window. But that same night he had spread out his bedroll and gone to sleep on the floor, his familiar silhouette stretched to guard the door like a small mountain range.

His face in the firelight, so stern.

His big body seated in one of the chairs, drawing her over to stand between his knees so he could help her brush her hair.

There was no task he would not attempt. Whether it was her bathtubor her laundry, he had never hesitated to do the work with his own hands. And maybe that was what had done it, in the fullness of time: his simple, honestcarefor her had won her heart.

It would never have happened if they hadn’t begun in this cottage. If they’d gone straight to the manor house, with servants and ladies-in-waiting and all the luxuries of a duke and duchess, they might never have known each other at all.

Ophele had to smile to herself, and laugh at the strangeness of the world.

She was glad he hadn’t gotten her a maid.

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By the time they made the trek up the hill to the manor, Ophele had a new appreciation for servants.

It was astonishing how manythingsshe and Remin had accumulated over the last seven months, to say nothing of all the things Remin had ordered, unbeknownst to her, that had been sitting in various warehouses against this day. Shaded by her parasol, she rode with Adelan to the storehouse and the harbor, watching as everything was loaded and trying to pretend she wasn’t just more baggage.

Master Didion was waiting to greet them before the steps of the manor with a surprise of his own. Snarling from the pedestals on either side of the wide, curving steps were two stone wolf demons, so spiky and lifelike that Ophele gave a start when she saw them. The guardian dogs of the Duke of Andelin, standing watch over his house.

“Your home is well warded, Your Grace!” Master Didion declared, flinging out his arms as Ophele laughed and clapped her hands together.

“Master Didion!” she exclaimed as Sir Leonin helped her down from the wagon. “However did you do it? I only gave you the drawings a few weeks ago.”

“Well, my dear lady, we know the shape of a wolf well enough, do we not?” he asked, puffing with the success of his surprise. “We only needed those last details from you to make thembreathe,as you see. Those multiple rows of teeth were a surprise, but fortunately the sculptor hadn’t finished the mouths. I don’t mind telling you they’ve scared off a few builders, first thing in the morning.”

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