Page 30 of Heart Cradle
“Holy shit,” Fenric whispered.
“Still here,” Soren said, though he looked suspiciously moved.
Eiran smiled faintly. “Welcome to the Cottage.”
“It’s real?” Maeve asked, her voice low.
Calen clapped a hand on her shoulder. “Realer than half the castles in the Fae Lands, and safer than all of them combined.”
“It doesn’t look…” She trailed off.
“Exactly,” Calen said, stepping beside her. “It doesn’t need to look like anything. That’s the magic, it’s older than any of our bloodlines, built on land warded so deep it teems with it.”
“It also has terrible beds and one terrifying badger that lives under the woodshed.” Soren sniffed.
“Don’t listen to him,” Fenric said. “The beds are excellent, and so’s the training ring.”
Branfil raised a brow. “The badger, though. He’s real.”
Maeve huffed a laugh before realising she was smiling. She turned slowly, taking it all in, the trees, the glimpse of a garden behind the house, the wide stone path leading to the door.
“This place saved us all once,” Eiran said quietly, his gaze on Aeilanna. “After you disappeared, when everything started falling apart. Grandfather told us to come here. To stop and breathe, to… grieve. Even Mother and Father came.”
Maeve glanced at Aeilanna, she wasn’t exactly smiling, but there was a flicker of presence in her expression, as if she were forcing herself to be there, to feel something. Nolenne draped an arm over Aeilanna’s shoulders. Her expression unreadable as she pressed a kiss to the top of her head. “It’s not what I expected,” she murmured.
“We’ve never brought anyone here outside the bloodline,” Eiran said, nodding at Branfil. “Except him.”
Branfil caught her eye and gave a relaxed wink.
Soren groaned. “Is this a speech? Are you giving a speech?”
“Feels like a speech.” Branfil grinned.
Eiran sighed. “Fuck off, you two. This place isn’t about strategy, it’s not a fortress. It’s peace and it’s ours.”
Calen exhaled loudly. “Okay, emotional bonding time over. I need wine, a bath, and maybe a fucking good nap.”
Fenric pulled him into a headlock, and the two followed Soren and Branfil, who were already making their way towards the porch. Aeilanna leaned into Nolenne for a moment before they too drifted after the others, one hand brushing a cluster of wild roses blooming along the path. Maeve lingered, watching the group, while trying to compose herself.
“You alright, love?” Eiran asked.
She nodded slowly, her eyes still on the Cottage. “It’s the first place I’ve been since all of this started where I didn’t feel like running.”
He looked at her then, and something in his gaze softened. “Good,” he said. “It’s doing its job.”
?????
Inside, the Cottage was deceptively spacious. Wood-beamed ceilings stretched above wide rooms filled with old, soft furniture and warm, golden light. The scent of rosemary and ash lingered in the air and the hearthwas crackling to life thanks to Branfil, who was currently wrestling with an ancient iron pot.
After they had all ate breakfast of porridge and fruit, and passed a few hours talking over coffee, Aeilanna and Nolenne slipped off together, disappearing into one of the back rooms with a shared glance and a few quiet words.
“Ohh, special time for the bound!” Fenric shouted.
Calen called after them with a wicked grin. “Don’t do anything I wouldn’t do!”
“Which is very little.” Soren added.
Branfil straightened with a scowl. “Enough.”
