Page 111 of Midwinter Wiles & Valerian Dreams
“We’re here for you,” he says, like it’s obvious. “All of us.”
And he’s not kidding. Folk continue to file in—shopkeepers, trade smiths, faces I know from the market—until the room is packed. Each greets me with a nod or a warm clasp to the shoulder. Hen the baker calls out my name. “You didn’t think we’d let you go through this alone, did you?”
Ludo grins. “Whole town’s here to support you. We’ve all seen you being an incredible father, and we’ll gladly say so.”
I swallow past the lump in my throat.Storms, I wish Talvie were here. But this is what I have. And apparently it’s more than I realized.
If this works out, maybe I could put down roots here in Ylvara. Could we raise enough for a little cottage of our own? Could I stop the relentless urge to keep moving? Hugo grunts from mypocket, bringing me back to reality. There’s no point in making plans until we see what the board decides. Facing forward again, I pick up my jaw and try to breathe.
The temporary buoyancy in my heart sinks when the door at the front opens and the board enters as one, their robes and expressions sharp. Leading the way, silver hair catching the light like polished steel, is Daria.
Daria?!
Sweet waters, Daria knows everything. Every lie and fake fiancée of it. Everything.
“Daria’s a sentry?” I murmur to Ludo.
“Yeah.” He shrugs as if that’s common knowledge. “She volunteers. Takes in surly teens who need a placement sometimes,” he says, hooking a thumb toward himself. “Don’t worry, she’s a good one. Anyone who could put up with my delinquent ass when I was a teen has got the patience of a saint. A little mess won’t rattle her.”
From the front of the room, Daria says, “Everyone take a seat.”
We sit. I sit. I’m not sure my body’s fully attached to my mind anymore.
At least I know nothing I say now will change the outcome. She already knows I’m a lying nobody who couldn’t even afford to rent a cottage on my own. This thing is already decided.
Daria takes charge with calm authority, because her being a sentry isn’t enough. No, she’s theHeadSentry on this board, meaning she’ll issue the final verdict in my case.Fantastic. We could probably just skip to that bit now.
My head hangs low while she begins by reading the facts of the case aloud, from our history at the orphanage to Frederik’s death. It fails to hit me as hard as usual while I’m this numb. When she reaches the part about the orphanage closing, there’s a note of sympathy in her tone, but it won’t matter.
I blink hard and turn to take in the room. The kids sit stoically, all staring forward except Mika, who stares at his hands. This is their history too, laid bare for everyone to hear. He looks up and gives me the smallest nod.
I grit my teeth and look past our row before my chest caves in. Ludo catches my eye and winks for encouragement. Chef offers me a smile from beside Hen, who gives me an approving head tilt. Even the mother staying at Hollyhock Cottage (who complained about Helkki and the twins keeping her youngest up the other night) is here with a friendly smile and her hand pressed briefly over her heart.
I have to face forward before I lose my composure completely.
“Our job today,” Daria is saying, “is to make sure these childlings receive the best life they can have after already enduring such tragedies and hardships.”
It won’t be me then. I can’t give them a big house, steady schooling, fancy meals, or shining opportunities.
“To that end,” she continues.
Here it comes.
“This board has reviewed all…thirty-seven character recommendations submitted by members of the community.”
Say what now?
“This Sentry has also personally found Lark Hyveri to be a fae of upstanding moral character, generous of spirit, dependable, and incredibly capable in his own right.”
Her words barely register. My brain’s gone thick with fog that her next words have to slice through.
“If anyone knows of any reason these seven wards would not be best served in the permanent custody of Lark Hyveri, please step forward and speak now.”
The hall fills with shuffling. People glance at each other, but no one moves. My belly unclenches.
Is this…actually happening?
Then the big blacksmith stands and moves toward the aisle. My stomach knots right back up.
