Page 25 of Midwinter Wiles & Valerian Dreams
I’ve never had these worries before, and they pile on top of the worry for myself, burying it until I’m struggling to breathe beneath the weight.
Warmth pulses against my breastbone, but Lumi’s assurance does nothing to comfort me this time. The kids in this cottage are all fed, happy, and warm, but I still can’t stop the image of the boy in the red coat from plaguing me. I should help. I could make surethesekids get to stay where they’re loved and looked after.
But what if I’m discovered? One mistake, and the huntsmen could be at their door. I can’t put the kids in danger like that.
“Val?” Lark asks, jerking me from my jumbled stupor. “Are you okay?”
What must he see when he looks at me? Wild blue curls that I haven’t had time to care for in days. Eyes that can’t settle on anything, jumping from his jaunty four-winds hat to the broom leaning against the wall and over to the door where I can escape. Wild features masking wild fears.
I can’t worry about these people. I barely know them. It’s only the warmth and banter giving me an odd sort of longing, but that shouldn’t matter. It’s too big a risk.
“I’m fine. I need to get to work.”
“Of course,” he says kindly. “And don’t worry about what I asked. This is my problem. I shouldn’t have bothered you with it.”
“Lark—”
“No, forget I said anything. Honestly.” He shakes his head quickly. “I’m sure you have enough of your own troubles. I’ll sort out the mixup next time Sentry Niemi visits.”
The look on his face tugs at my chest the same way that little boy’s did. There’s a pit in my stomach. I almost blurt out that I’ll help, only stopping at the memory of Beron’s stony stare that day. I can’t help Lark. I can’t help this family. I can’t even help myself.
Chapter 11
Talvie
Daria is staring at me like I’ve lost my head, but I plow on with my recap. “Then! Then he calls me his fiancée. I get that it's so he can keep his kids, but it’sinsane! He just expects me to pretend we're engaged?”
“Well, did you?” she asks.
“I was in shock!” My hands shake as I taste another bit of sugary icing. I’m way too on edge with one disguise. I can’t add to it. “I hate deceit. Besides, those kids…Ican’thelp him.”
“So you said no.”
“No! I just—” The words tangle on my tongue. “He seems like a good person. And he has a good reason. And the kids seem... good?”
“So it’s good,” she replies dryly.
“Yes.”
“Then you said yes.”
“No!”
“Val.” Daria raises an arched brow. “Are you drunk?”
“What? No, I’m just kind of…buzzing?”
“Okay, girl, that’s enough icing for you.” She plucks the bowl from my hands, and yeah, okay, maybe there are more finger swipes than icing left now. “When I said I was putting you on dishes for today, I didn’t mean for you to clean them with your tongue. You know how to wash dishes, yes?”
I stare at the stack of pots and pans beside the sink and the big machine I have no clue how to operate. But I should know. Surely regular people know. So I nod. “Sure. Of course.”
How hard could washing dishes be?
No, no,no! Why does this keep happening?
Washing dishes should be safe. You put some soap on them, add water, scrub a bit, and done.Easy peasy.
Or so I thought.
