Page 33 of The Witch's Rite
“And I’d appreciate it if you would keep it to yourself. I’m going to tell her... when the time is right. Can you do that for me?”
I’m not sure what I expect from him. It’s not like he nods or smiles or something.
But he does hold my gaze for a long moment, then blinks slowly, stretches, and sprints off to find where Lucy has gone to. And somehow, that feels like confirmation enough.
I stand and stretch my back, then finish off the rest of the tea in my teacup. The air is already growing warm, even in the shadow of the tree line, and given the buzzing of the insects and the smell of plants in the air, I expect it’s going to be a hot day. Which means I should get started on the coop before the sun rises too high.
But before that, there’s one other thing I want to do, something I’ve been thinking about for some time now.
“Hey, Harrison,” I call out, striding after him and the chicken. “Come over here, would you? I need to see how tall you are.”
Chapter 21
Aurora
THE SMELL OF BREAD GREETS us as soon as we step into Faunwood. The baker is already up and throwing loaves into his bread oven, filling the entire village with the mouthwatering scent of herbs and sourdough. Soon the rest of the village will spill out into the market to do their shopping and go about their errands for the day. For now, though, it’s quiet and peaceful, and I don’t see anyone else out walking the cobbled streets.
Rowan and I come upon the guard tower at the edge of the village, standing tall and stoic against the blue summer sky. My boots hesitate on the cobblestone, and Rowan reaches out to pull me in for a hug. His arms are lean and strong around me, and he smells slightly of woodsmoke, probably from sleeping on the couch with the fire going last night.
“You’re sure you feel okay?” he asks, his voice muffled with his lips pressing into my hair.
With a small sigh, I pull back and look up at him, offering him a smile. “I’msure. I’m perfectly perfect.”
“Promise?” he asks, russet eyebrows pulling together in the center.
I rise onto my toes to press a kiss to Rowan’s lips, and as I pull away, I whisper, “I promise.” Easing from him arms, I twirl away, giggling as my lightweight skirt whirls around my calves. The summer air is refreshing on my bare skin. “Will I see you later?”
He slips his hands into his trouser pockets and gives me a crooked smile. “Of course you will.”
“All right, Sir Rowan.” I wave a hand as I take a few steps from him. “Until later, then.”
As I head into Faunwood, basket swinging from the crook of my elbow, Rowan stands there and watches me go. Only when I’ve reached Lydia’s mercantile and have my hand upon the door handle does he finally head into the guard tower, vanishing into its shadowy doorway.
I let out a sigh, my shoulders drooping a bit once he’s out of view. I don’t want Alden and Rowan worrying about me, even if Iamstill feeling a bit out of sorts. Whatever it is, I don’t expect the fatigue and dizziness to hang around for long.
Pulling the door to the shop open, I’m greeted by the scent of sage and fresh soap. Lydia is standing at a display nearby, rearranging the colorful bars of soap, and she glances over her shoulder as I step in.
“Morning,” I say, the bell overhead twinkling.
Lydia turns fully to face me, one of her dark eyebrows quirking up in the corner. “Did I just see youkissingthe knight?” she asks, not at all shy about it.
I press my lips together as heat rushes into my cheeks. “How did you see me from here?” I ask. The windows don’t face the guard tower, so she must’ve had her face nearly pressed against the glass to see us from this angle. I’d probably find a smudge on the window were I to go and check.
Lydia waves my question off, the charm bracelet on her wrist jingling. “Does my brother know?” she asks, voice sharper than I’ve ever heard.
She’s worried about Alden.Of courseshe is. I should’ve known.
Feeling a bit foolish, I step toward her and reach for her hand. Even though her lips are puckered into a stern pout, she lets me twine my fingers through hers.
“He does. I spoke with him about it, asked for his blessing. In fact, both he and Rowan stayed at the cottage last night. They’re building a coop for Lucy.”
Lydia blinks her brown eyes rapidly, looking a bit like she just ran around the Maypole too many times and has lost her bearings. “He... You... Who’s Lucy?”
With a smile, I lift my arm to show her the basket of butter I brought in. “Would you help me set up a display for these? I’ll explain it all.”
I get Lydia caught up oneverything: what happened the night of Beltane, the conversation I had with Alden afterward, the way things are unfolding with Rowan, and of course, Lucy.
“I saw that chicken around the market square,” she tells me. We’re seated at a little table in the back of the shop, munching on shortbread cookies and sipping rose tea. “I haven’t seen her the past week—I was worried something bad had happened to her.”
