“Why does it feel like I never see you anymore?” Heidi asked giving Jolene a long hug, if for no other reason than to spare herself giving the other woman a long once over. Something was wrong, it was there in the way she held her shoulders in the way that her eyes flickered away whenever Heidi tried to catch them. She couldn’t have screamed wrong more short of investing in a large neon sign.

“Because we spent the better part of eight months as roommates where you saw me everyday and now we only see each other a couple of times a week. You being less than mobile these days.” Jolene waved at Heidi’s midsection.

“I’m pregnant, not dying.” Heidi retorted. “And no one gets all upset about Raquel running all over Shadowcrest and what not.”

“Except Kennedy.” Jolene said and Heidi stifled a snort.

“But Blake doesn’t.” Heidi mused, thinking of how if Dolph had his way, Heidi’d forget how to walk before she had this baby.

“We don’t know that.” Jolene pointed out. Heidi looked at Jolene quizzically. “Aren’t you the one who is always telling me what you see is not always what you get. We see Blake and Raquel’s public faces and have no idea what’s behind their façade.”

“True, but it still looks like not only would Blake lay his shirt down so she could walk over a mud puddle, he’d do it with him still in it. Dolph’s idea is to either get rid of mud puddles or have me carried over them. Or preferably never leave the house when there is such a thing as mud about.” Something passed over Jolene’s face at that.

“Yeah, it’s tough having a guy adore you.” She shook her head.

“Well, come in, we don’t need to spend all day out in the front yard.” Heidi shooed her friend into the nook of her kitchen. “Can I get you anything? Tea, milk, water? Ever since Kennedy recommended that I not drink alcohol he’s hidden away every bit of it, so you’d have to go brave him for anything stronger.”

“No, I’m fine. So your lord husband is giving you grief about walking, still?”

“Yes. And I don’t know why, I mean Raquel’s what two, close to three months ahead of me and you see her all over Shadowcrest.” Heidi shook her head.

“Maybe it’s cause you married a Lord and she married a carpenter.” Jolene offered, with a bitter sigh that caused Heidi to look at her sharply. “Plus, Raquel hardly even looks pregnant.”

“I don’t know that I’d say that.” Heidi murmured in response.

“She looks like a skinny teenager with a basketball stuffed up her dress. You look pregnant.” Before Heidi could think of how to respond to that, Jolene looked around the kitchen and sighed. “I don’t know how you did it. This place is the color of an ice cave and it still seems warm and inviting.” Jolene shook her head. “If I used this color scheme in my house, it’d be like sitting inside an icecube. If, of course, I had a house instead of living with Dr. I never met a riotously bright color I didn’t like Misra.”

“Jo, what’s wrong? Did you have a fight with somebody?” Heidi asked, her concern jumping toward alarmed.

“No. Why do you think something’s wrong, aren’t I always this bitter and unhappy?” Jolene asked.

“No.” Heidi said before letting the silence talk for her. Jolene stood up and walked toward the kitchen doorway, keeping her face turned away. “Jo, c’mon, you can talk to me.”

“You wouldn’t understand.” Jolene said barely above a whisper.

“I can’t even try if you won’t tell me.” She pointed out.

“How could you understand, look around this place!” Jolene walked off to the library and threw herself down on the bench with enough force to make Heidi glad it was a very sturdy bench and her body twinge in sympathy.

“I guess you’re right cause I don’t understand.” Heidi waddled after Jolene when it was apparent the other woman had moved permanently.

“You with a huge beautiful house, you with your Lord husband, you with your baby on the way.” Jolene murmured bitterly. “And what have I got?”

“A good man who loves you, who half literally worships the ground you walk on?”

“A kid, Heidi. A little teenage Romeo who could–couldn’t even do the one thing I wanted him to do right.” Jolene stared at her hands.

“What was that?” Heidi asked, touching one of Jolene’s soft brown curls.

“Fall for someone else… Why did he have to latch onto me and ruin me for everyone else? Why couldn’t he have fallen for Raquel, or Zahrah, or even that little gold digging twit Fiona? Why did he have to fall for me? None of the other guys will even look at me because he wants me. I don’t even get a choice. Either I stay alone or take him.” Jolene said.

“So you really think you’d feel better if there had been some other girl?” Heidi asked.

“I don’t know.”

“Jolene, maybe Sawyer’s not a noble. Maybe he does odd jobs and can’t buy you the biggest nicest house on the block. But he’s a good man with a good heart and he’s given it to you.” Heidi said, her eyes locking on Jolene’s.

“I told you you wouldn’t understand.” Jolene turned away. “He’s a kid.”

“No, Jo, he isn’t. The only way Sawyer is still a kid is in your head.” Heidi took a deep breath and exhaled it slowly so she wouldn’t snap at the other woman. “He’s been on his own for six years, Joey. About as long as you have. Except you had your parents to go home to those first couple of years.”

“Don’t bring my parents into this.” Jolene warned.

“Okay, cause they’re not the point. The point is Sawyer’s only a child because you can attach a number to him. ‘Seventeen’. Which yes, might mean a helluva lot back home, but it means exactly squat here.” Heidi said.

“And then that child rapist came along.” Jolene stared at the fireplace with a heat that practically could have lit the log on it.

“Which child rapist?”

“Victoria.” The venom in Jolene’s voice probably would have eaten through solid steel.

“Okay, apparently I missed something else.” Heidi said puzzled.

“What else do you call a woman–a grown woman–older than us–who marries a kid? Do you really think, given how often they’d sit under the tree outside and make-out that they’re really not fucking, Heidi? Don’t tell me you’re that naïve.” Jolene snarled.

“Oh, Joey. Camden is not a kid. He’s–what–a month now shy of being eighteen? And if you’d ever spent five minutes in his company you’d know he wasn’t a kid. Not in any way except maybe still broadening out in the shoulders. He’s probably more mature and grown up than I am.” And the way things are going in this conversation a helluva lot more grown up than you are. Heidi thought.

“Then why didn’t she just wait the month?” Jolene snarled.

“Maybe because it wasn’t as big a deal to them as it is to you. And I have to say I don’t think it’s any of our business when two consenting adults want to get married. And in Shadowcrest, Camden is an adult, maybe he wouldn’t have been back home, but we’re not back there. We’re here.” Heidi shook her head.

“They made it my business last night.”

“Oh, really? what did you get a call from Camden cause Victoria was abusing him, wouldn’t let him eat his dessert until he finished all his vegetables?” She couldn’t keep the snark out of her voice. Something had to break, otherwise they were going to have a fight and Heidi didn’t want to push her friend away. Maybe Jolene was being a bitch, but no one else was going to figure out what was going on with her.

“No. Sawyer proposed.” Jolene wailed hopelessly. Heidi blinked. Twice.

“And this is…” Heidi trailed off unable to even finish. “What did you say?”

“I didn’t.” Jolene said. “I just–I wanted to say no. But I couldn’t. It’s like the words stuck in my throat. I–I tried. But somehow, I just couldn’t say it.”

“Maybe because you knew it wasn’t the right thing to say?” Heidi offered.

“What else could I say?”

“Yes?” If Heidi had grown a second head, the look Jolene gave her then wouldn’t have been any odder.

“Yes?” Jolene gasped.

“Yeah. He loves you, even though you’ve done everything to dissuade him that you could, short of throwing him into bed with every other woman currently in Shadowcrest. And you wouldn’t be near this pissed off and confused if you didn’t love him too.”

“But Heidi, what–how…”

“You’ll figure it out, you know, together.” Heidi shrugged and laid a hand on her tummy. “It isn’t like they hand you a manual on your eighteenth birthday that makes everything about love and marriage make sense.” She sure as hell hadn’t gotten one–and obviously neither had Jolene.

“But…” Jolene broke off with a sigh. “I really should go. I have–I’m sorry.” Heidi nodded and got to her feet. “Bye, little Heidi’s spawn, you’ll be glad some day your mom’s a wise lady.”

“And bye Spawn’s mom they’ll be lucky to have later.” Jolene said in a whisper after she hugged Heidi.

Heidi scrubbed her hand over her face, near as exhausted as the time she’d gotten caught in a shoot-out. A creak from her right caught her attention, the door to Dolph’s office swinging open.

“Heidi, love, what’s wrong?” Dolph asked his genial expression turning to one of alarm.

“I love you.” Heidi said, putting a hand on the side of his face as he sat next to her pulling her into his shoulder with a rightness that Heidi hoped more than anything Jolene felt–or would let herself feel about Sawyer.

“I love you too, but what’s wrong–do you need Kennedy?”

“No. I’m just really lucky I have you.” Heidi said leaning her weight into Dolph’s comforting warmth. “As for what’s wrong–apparently not enough.” She shook her head. Dolph shrugged and shook his before pulling her just a little closer. “I think it’ll sort itself out though. At any rate, it’s nothing we can fix, you and me.”

“Don’t you think I can fix everything?” Dolph murmured into her hair.

Heidi sighed. “I dunno. Can you fix it when the prince doesn’t turn into a frog?”

“Is it sad how much I want to squee?” Jolene asked Heidi.

“Over the fact that I’m getting married–or over the fact that I’ll be moving out and you’ll have more closet space?” Heidi teased.

“Which do you think? Especially considering that Zahrah will be taking over your wardrobe space before the last of your stuff clears the stairwell.” Jolene stuck her tongue out at Heidi who laughed and stuck her tongue out back.

“Ah, well, then, no. I don’t mind if you want to squee over the wedding.” Victoria tucked a strand of her hair back into the updo and headed down the stairs.

“So, ten bucks says it’s six weeks or less before Kennedy’s firing up the old preg tester again.” Peyton was saying as she came into the living room of the barn.

“You’re betting on people’s sex lives now, Peyton?” Tiffany asked, a bit incredulously.

“Isn’t anything else to bet on. I wonder how hard it is to make slot machines.” She trailed off looking at the ceiling.

“Fairly.” Victoria pointed out as she took a seat in the empty chair to Peyton’s left. The blonde looked at her with an eyebrow quirked. “Think about it. Not only would you have to figure out the mechanics of making one, you’d have to figure out how to build a generator cause they need power to run. Besides, would you really want to dump all your money into something like that?”

“Not for me, I’d build a bank of them and everyone else could lose their money in them.”

“Right.” Victoria said. “And what would you do if someone won?”

“I’d think of something, don’t kill my buzz, Vikki.”

“Have you been drinking already, Peyton?” Jolene asked from behind them.

“Oh, you know. Just a little liquid courage.” Peyton stretched.

“For what?” Jolene sneered. “You aren’t getting married, after all.”  If Peyton was in the room, Victoria would have sworn that it was her permanent expression. Granted this was the real world and not some place occupied by fuzzy little bears or ponies who were all bff’s all the time, but Victoria still didn’t know why Jolene was so disparaging of Peyton all the time.

“For seeing my ass in this dress.” Peyton waved airily. At least Peyton got as good as she gave very rarely letting the other woman get her goat.

“I take it,” Kennedy interjected before they could get any further into a disagreement. “That Heidi is ready to go and that we should head for the chapel?” Jolene looked at Kennedy for a long moment as if judging whether she’d win a battle with the doctor, but apparently she didn’t think so because she just nodded.

Heidi had decided that she wanted to have an outdoor wedding, something that was questionable, given that it was spring, and doubly questionable considering the dark clouds on the horizon, but, as Heidi pointed out, the king was a wizard. If he could bring people from the future, he could keep it from raining on one wedding ceremony.

Though she really didn’t know Heidi that well or Dolph either, the ceremony was very sweet and apparent to everyone that the bride and groom adored each other. After the vows were said, Dolph swept Heidi off her feet and spun her around, garnering applause from the spectators.

Then it was inside, after all there was no reason to tempt fate with an outdoor reception as well. The plants did need rain so if it decided to drizzle all afternoon, they should probably let it.

“Aren’t you going to have any cake, Lady Victoria?” A voice asked by her elbow.

“I want to be able to fit into this dress for the next wedding if I need to.” Victoria said turning toward Camden.

“I think it’ll fit fine,” Camden blushed then. Oh, my. Victoria stopped herself from giggling. He’d been checking her out! Maybe walking everywhere and not being constantly stuck behind a desk going over columns of numbers was helping put her curves back where she remembered them being.

“What about you?” Victoria asked. Camden’s green eyes widened for a moment. “Cake, aren’t you going to have any?”

“Oo-oh. Uh, no–I don’t think so.” Camden glanced around. “The young lady with Alistair, who is she?” She glanced over her shoulder in the direction that Camden was looking.

“Is that Alistair?” Victoria asked. For some reason she had been expect Alistair to be–the skeezy guy in the trench coat. Someone who looked like a rat. He looked normal. Handsome, even. Then her eyes flicked onto the girl talking to him. Zahrah. She was new to Shadowcrest too.

Of course Camden would notice her. Zahrah was young and very pretty, and her curves had the benefit of never having shifted out of position in the first place. She was probably closer to Camden in age than she was. Victoria stifled a sigh, as Camden would probably notice. Still, when she turned back Camden’s eyes shot up from where they’d been settled, which wasn’t on Zahrah.

“That’s Zahrah. She came a few days ago.” Victoria said, watching Camden’s face for a hint of his eyes leaping away to look at Zahrah again. Except they didn’t. Huh?

“Hadn’t you met Alistair?” Camden asked as if the girl was no longer anything he was concerned with.

“No. I wasn’t sure I wanted to. I can’t name a single complimentary thing that was said about him.” Victoria admitted. Camden looked thoughtful for a moment. “What?”

“I’m trying to think of a complimentary thing I’ve ever heard said about him.” Victoria stifled a giggle. Alistair had moved away from Zahrah, who sat on one of the benches as Dolph and Heidi took the dance floor.

Camden grabbed a couple of glasses of wine and handed her one. She twisted the stem of the glass in her fingers before taking a sip of the wine, as Camden’s eyes swept over her profile.

The peace was broken by the sound of someone angrily hissing their breath in between their teeth. Victoria glanced at Camden who was watching Dolph and Heidi. He looked at her with a raised eyebrow. Okay, it wasn’t Camden… who then…? She wondered taking a slightly larger drink of the wine from her glass.

A stir by the door caught Victoria’s attention. “Well, my loves.” Blake said, rubbing Raquel’s tummy in a way that made Victoria smile wistfully. “I think I should take you and your mommy home. It’s walk from here.”

Considering Victoria hardly knew Raquel and Blake even less, it felt somewhat wrong to watch the two of them leaving, so she turned her attention back to the wine in her glass. Whatever it was, it was a lot stronger than the wine in a box that was served at book club and it was seeming to go straight to her head. Just one glass shouldn’t have tipped her into “buzzed” but this stuff had managed.

“Lady Victoria?” Camden sounded concerned.

“I just need a little air.” At least she hoped that she only needed some air. She didn’t know how she’d live with it if she got too drunk to walk home off one glass of wine. The young knight fell into step with her, holding the door open as the still-slightly-chilly night air hit her arms and face and cleared her head.

They both stood looking up at the sky for a moment until a cultured voice speaking in a hushed but obviously angry tone caught her attention.

“Leave her alone.” She recognized the redhair and black embroidered clothes from the back.

“You–you don’t.” Whomever responded was obviously by the voice a lot younger–and a lot smaller as she couldn’t see him past Alistair.

“Oh please, come back and retort when you can do it without a stammer.”

“Go to hell.” The boy said. Alistair grabbed the younger boy and jerking him half off his feet.

“What was that, you little urchin?” The boy didn’t say anything and the redhaired man shoved him away, obviously prepared to walk away. Camden’s fists were clenched like he was about to lay into Alistair.

“Go get Sawyer.” Victoria suggested. Camden looked at her. “Please, Camden.”

“Yes, Lady Victoria.” He said turning and running back into the reception hall. Alistair stalked past her, sneering down his nose and Victoria found her own hands balling into fists. The boy, she thought for a moment, Tate had his face buried in his hands. She wanted to say something, or at least give him cookies and a big hug, but they didn’t even know each other.

And having a woman you didn’t know witness you getting bullied was sure to perk the old self-esteem back up.

“Heyla,” Sawyer said, rounding the corner, Tate pulled his hands away from his face in such a way that Victoria was sure he was brushing away tears. Sawyer didn’t act like he noticed. “What’s wrong.”

“Just–Alistair. I asked–it’s nothing.” Tate said.

“Ah, Alistair, is it? You know the first time Jarrett put him in charge of stirrin’ the laundry, he burnt his braises?” Sawyer said. “He did. He was stirrin’ the pot of laundry o’er the cook fire, and he stirs like a sissy, y’know, barely swishin’ the water an’ me an’ Jarrett are at the pond fishin’ when we smell something burnin’ Go back and there’s ‘is braises at the bottom of the pot, burned just like the tag end of a pot of porridge in a cheap inn!”

The young bard continued to tell what Alistair would surely find to be highly embarrassing tales about him until Tate giggled, just a little.

“Alistair’s a bully isn’t he?” Victoria asked.

“That’s about all I’d call him in the presence of a lady.” Camden agreed. “Why’d you stop me?”

“I hate seeing a kid picked on, but I also know that if you interfered he’d just do it again, sometime when you weren’t around. And that Tate’d feel lower than a worm’s belly.” Victoria sighed. Camden cocked his head to the side. “My brother was bullied when he was about Tate’s age.” She felt her stomach clench.

“I didn’t know you had a brother.”

“I don’t. But I used to.” Victoria said staring down at her hands.

“Oh.” Camden said.

“Lady Victoria, Sir Camden.” Sawyer bobbed his head as he sauntered past. Tate barely looked up as he murmured something that Victoria couldn’t catch.

As if that were some sort of a signal for people to start leaving, the doors pushed open only a few moments later, spilling Peyton and Ren out into the street. The two walked along for a moment before Ren caught Peyton’s hands in his. Not a drop of romance in her, my ass.

After Emanuel and Kennedy headed down the dark street toward the town gates, Sawyer, Tate, and Jolene followed.

“That’s quite alright, Alistair. Jarrett and I’ll see Zahrah back to the barn.” Nessa said as the doors pushed open a fourth time. Good, I wouldn’t want to see anything happen to Zahrah, and I’m not sure I trust Alistair any further than I can throw him. Especially not after what he did to Tate. Victoria thought. Not that anyone had asked her. But still it was always good to have one’s personal approval met.

Alistair followed a moment later, a snarl on his face. Lastly Wesley and Fox, followed by Tiffany, and Lock.

“If you’ll wait a moment, Lady Victoria, for me to say good night to Dolph and Lady Heidi I’ll walk you home.” Camden said, twisting his hand nervously. Victoria smiled and nodded.

The walk back was more quiet than talk, but pleasant still. And then they were back at the house with the familiar lanterns and the scarecrow watching lecherously over the crops. Maybe it was just her but that scarecrow was creepy.

“Thank you, Sir Camden.” Victoria tried to curtsy, not that it worked worth anything, but she tried. Camden nodded then raised his hand, tucking it under her chin and lifting it.

“What are we doing here?” Heidi asked. Here was a break in the trees before the land evened out into cleared pasture and farmland, a brisk walk from the city gates. There was nothing, from her vantage point that would point to why they were here.

“We’ve been spending too much time inside, you’ve been closeted with the King three days this week, if I were a jealous man–and if I didn’t know that the king had received his first tentative diplomatic missive from King Robard of Archerglen–I’d wonder if there were something going on there.” Dolph smiled, though he seemed to peer at her a bit cautiously. He didn’t have any idea why Heidi was closeted with Lachlan, and unfortunately for the both of them, Heidi wasn’t supposed to say.

“Eh, it was something that I sometimes dealt with in my previous job.” Heidi demurred. “Sometimes.” Not exactly the truth but not exactly a lie either. She hated the not being able to tell people, the constantly hiding things. It was one of the reasons that she had never really been involved with anyone before she had come to Shadowcrest, there just was too much that she couldn’t tell people.

Jolene understood, or at least she understood the reticence as something she’d dealt with on the force. Maybe that was why there had been the distance between her and Peyton too. Because Peyton was pretty much an open book, her parents might have both been practiced liars, both being lawyers, but that was different than the sort of lying that Heidi did. The sort of lying Peyton was used to was just words and feelings.

The sort that Heidi did involved… everything. Pulling on a new personality at every new situation. Although, if she was going to be honest with herself, she doubted that was all there was to it. She knew that she’d hurt Peyton’s feelings when she’d gone to Lock back in the winter and there was no way that she could make that up to her.

It was what Lock had told her to do. To pay attention to the other girls and to tell him when they were unhappy, not that that absolved her either. But whatever it was, Heidi was just as glad that Peyton was getting along so well with Victoria. It didn’t make the breach of trust go away, but maybe it would make it enough less immediate that they could resolve it eventually.

Dolph was nodding understandingly. He knew that she had worked for “the government” before she’d come to Shadowcrest, he probably thought that she had been some sort of clerk or aide or something. She smiled as he reached for her hand.

“And I’ve been buried in helping Camden with these military laws. So I thought that we could both use some fresh air.” Dolph finished.

“Isn’t that what windows are for?” Heidi couldn’t pass up the opportunity to tease him, Dolph was so solemn, it worth any lame joke to see him smile at her.

“I’m almost certain you’ll like this better than the view out your window–or even the king’s window.” Dolph said. Heidi followed him down a worn path between two hills and–oh my. He looked over his shoulder anxiously.

“This is beautiful,” She said looking around the little cup of a pond fed by a waterfall and a small spring, little bursts of color from wildflowers sprinkled here and there like fireworks in the lush green of the meadow. “Do you bring all your ladies here?” She teased.

“Only the ones I really like.” Dolph said with a peculiar half smile. Ones? She thought worriedly. “What?” He asked, his brown eyes turning alarmed. Apparently the thought had shown on her face.

“How many would that be?” She tried to make it sound teasing.

“Well, just you.” He admitted toward his leather half-boot.

“Oh.” She couldn’t keep the relief out of her voice–and maybe that was for the better because Dolph seemed relieved too. He lifted her hand to press his lips against the back of it.

“Hopefully those crows haven’t picked over the picnic.” Dolph tucked her hand in her elbow and lead her off toward the carpet someone had lain out under a tree.

“Don’t think you’re getting off that easily.” Heidi said after nibbling at a few berries. “Weren’t you engaged once? Didn’t you really like her?”

“No. It was a good match for me, and perhaps one for her. Besides I wasn’t exactly engaged. I was a suitor, one of a couple actually. And her father chose to pursue the betrothal with the other suitor.” Dolph picked at a strand of grass.

“But didn’t you ever take her out on picnics or anything?” Heidi asked. Wondering why it felt like there was a gulf between the two of them. She couldn’t claim that there was anyone that she’d been serious with since high school, but even she’d been taken out.

“Oh no. It wouldn’t have been proper. We mostly met in the gardens either at Lord Ashby’s estate or on two occasions at the dowager estate where my mother and I lived. Both of which were very closely chaperoned. I think my mother practically denude the estate both of those times.”

Heidi settled back onto her hands. “Why did you grow up on a dowager estate? Isn’t that for cranky old ladies?”

Dolph smiled. “My mother was my father’s second wife. My half brother was twelve or so years older than I was and he very much resented how–quickly–our father remarried. Especially as he already had a son and heir.”

“How quickly?” The question slipped out before she realized that maybe Dolph didn’t want to talk about it. This was probably kind of painful for him.

“He started to court my mother three years after his first wife died.” Dolph traced over the pattern on the carpet with his finger. “It was close to five before they actually married.”

“So five years is quickly?”

“It was to Douglas.” Dolph sighed. “Anyway, our father died when I was eight, Douglas was twenty–and apparently he never lost the animosity to my mother so she and I were shipped off to the dowager estate within a moon of my father’s death. He wasn’t–bad to us. We had only a few servants–but they were good ones, he didn’t stick us with only layabouts. And the house was kept well. Douglas made sure I had tutors and arranged for my apprenticeship.” He shrugged and looked at the trees for a moment.

“Still sounds like a jerk to me. It’s not like she married him five days after his first wife died.” Heidi said. “Then again, my mom never remarried after my dad died, maybe I’d have felt different if she had. I was only a little older when my dad died than Douglas was when his mom did.”

“What were your parents like?”Dolph asked. Heidi paused for a moment and thought, a smile poking up at the corner of her lips.

“Oh, my dad was–like a chameleon. He wasn’t around a lot, but he was always there for anything important. Because of his job, he couldn’t always show up as my dad, but he would be the shifty looking guy who slouched in. Or, like for my kindergarten graduation, he came as a photographer, My mom and I had to pretend we didn’t recognize him, but we could always find him.” Heidi sighed. That job. She couldn’t help but be a little bitter about it. Her father had given his job everything he had, including his life, and in repayment, it repaid him with a tainted legacy and whispers. They weren’t true. She’d never believe it.

“My mom was the most practical hopeless romantic in the entire world. She would lose herself in novels and stories of love everlasting, and yet she’d still have dinner on the table at six on the dot. She missed my dad.” Heidi glanced down at her hands.

“I understand. I wasn’t–trying to upset you.” Dolph said.

“No, it’s not that. I miss them too is all.”As if that bit of conversation had sucked all the conversing they had in them out, Dolph settled back on the grass and Heidi settled in against his side, her head resting on his arm as it was wrapped around her shoulders. He pointed out clouds and birds, although she would fully admit that she watched Dolph more than the robins, finches, and jays.

The afternoon did that peculiar crawl-sprint, where it seemed to take forever and yet no time at all. Then dusk was settling in around them.

“Well, I suppose I should get back–someone’s going to think we tripped and fell down a well or something.” Heidi said, squinting at the cruel sun that was receding on what had been a nearly perfect afternoon.

“Wait, Heidi, something first?”

“Hmmm?” Heidi turned back to Dolph who reached into his tunic and pulled something out. Her eyes flew wide.

—

The barn looked about the same as every evening. Tiffany engrossed in a book, Kennedy washing something, Jolene sitting on the sofa probably about to get out an embroidery project or something.

Peyton and Victoria were talking about–well, Heidi had no idea when she skipped into their midst–though she would have sworn that Peyton looked over her shoulder and hid a smirk by turning back to Victoria.

“What are you looking so pleased about?” Jolene asked.

“Other than she escaped work all afternoon.” Peyton said over her shoulder. “Usually that’s Tiff. Tiff actually had to stay here and help garden.”

“And your shoes don’t have the right support for a grown woman to skip.” Kennedy cautioned.

“You are not going to rain on my parade.” Heidi stuck her tongue out at Kennedy and then sat down on the sofa next to Jolene.

“What parade?”Jolene asked.

“Notice me not asking if she got laid.” Peyton said to Victoria in a stage whisper. Victoria swatted Peyton on the arm.

“Oh nothing.” Heidi fluffed her hair, the ring that Dolph gave her clearly visible on her hand.

“Ring!” Jolene said grabbing her wrist and jerking it so that she could see the piece of jewelry better. Peyton snickered.

“You knew!” Heidi accused. “Did he tell you?”

“Seriously, Heidi, that red dye’s getting to your brain. Who’d tell me they were going to propose. Next thing I know you’ll be saying I helped plan the whole thing!” Peyton dismissed airily.

Well, put that way…

“So spill.” Jolene said, giving up her examination of the ring to stare intently. “I want to know everything!”

Then sometime around Junior high she realized that there weren’t a lot of homeless royalty out there commissioning castles, so she’d put the dream aside, but it had never really died. Okay so she wasn’t really going to be building it. And it wasn’t exactly Cinderella’s with all the spires and happy Neuschwanstein nonsense, ala Disney, but in some ways this was better. This was a real castle.

Something had been built to be functional, not just pretty.

And being not much more of a hike from the barn than the king’s cottage, it would be a perfect new locale for their illustrious leader. Now Tiffany just needed someone to tell about it. She checked her shoes and hem for dust and dirt and found that other than a bit of cobweb from exploring the dusty halls, she was fine.

The barn was curiously quiet. She’d probably missed lunch–wouldn’t be the first time–but she’d ate a big breakfast and she was never adverse to a big dinner, which would more than make up for the lack of noon meal.

“Hey, Heidi, where is everybody?” Tiffany asked, spotting the barn’s one occupant, Heidi who was scrubbing down one of the counters.

“Oh, Peyton’s out in the shed. Jolene went to go talk to Master Fox, and I believe Kennedy’s out talking to the scarecrow.”

“Again?” Tiffany sighed.

“Well, she came back from Raquel and Blake’s grumbling about something, then went and weeded the garden like she was ripping choicer bits off something. She’d probably have talked to you, but you disappeared.” The redhead was too polite to add “Again”, though it hung very clearly in the air after the statement.

Tiffany shifted from one foot to the other, trying not to scuff her shoe like a schoolboy being scolded. Heidi could do disappointed like her Grandma Lacatelli and Tiffany never knew whether it was on purpose or not.

“Well, okay, so technically I disappeared again, but it was totally worth it!” Tiffany said. “I found a castle, well, sort of, it was once a castle–kinda in disrepair, not quite ruins. But I think it’s still structurally sound and…” She trailed off, noticing the look on Heidi’s face, that polite, I’m zoning out now while you ramble on about the baroque period and flying buttresses again look. “Meh, I’ll go find Kennedy. If she’s cussing out the scarecrow again, she probably needs to talk more than I do.”

I didn’t think I was that boring. Tiffany tried to avoid her shoulders slumping as a small sigh, relief–or something close enough to be kissing cousins, that came from behind her.

Yes, indeed, Kennedy was talking to the scarecrow–and it was worse than usual. She could hear her from here, but the real telling point was that Kennedy’s hair was down. She almost never had her hair down, not in a figurative sense, just a literal one. Even for stuff like bed, Kennedy did something with it was only when she was extremely annoyed that she’d take it down and never remember to put it back up.

“I’d like to see his medical license.” The doctor snarled at the vapidly grinning pumpkin in front of her. “I’m not doing all of this for my health, you know. I have lots of things I would rather be doing than bothering Master Carpenter’s beloved wife. She’s pregnant. I’m monitoring. Hovering? I’ll hover his fucking ass straight into next Tuesday. ‘Oh, but lady Kennedy’… grrr.”

Tiffany started up the path toward the small kitchen garden. Hopefully she could be better to listen than the scarecrow, but a glint of red caught her before she could interrupt the still ranting doctor. Emanuel.

“Emanuel, what finds you in the neighborhood?” Tiffany asked, intercepting the apothecary before he could interrupt Kennedy. Given the way those two got along, it would either be massively helpful–or explode like something out of a bad action flick.

“Um,” his blue eyes flicked past Tiffany to Kennedy. “Is there cobweb in your hair?”

“Huh?” she smoothed at the black strands. “Uh, maybe. I was out today and I found this castle not far from…” She trailed off noticing Emanuel’s eyes were back on Kennedy’s back. “I’d walk carefully around her. Heidi said she’d been out here for a while.” Tiffany said stepping back to ostensibly pick up a loose stick that had fallen to the ground. Emanuel’s eyes barely flashed to see that she wasn’t there anymore before he turned toward Kennedy who had apparently stopped ranting at the scarecrow.

Nothing like feeling superfluous. Tiffany thought as Kennedy stepped into the chunk of ground Tiffany had been occupying only a few moments before. And when she started talking, his attention was hanging on every word. She tried not to sigh as she watched her best friend and the apothecary. Something familiar, the bitter, strong knife of jealousy flashed across her stomach.

Check another person off the list of people who’ll wanna hear about the castle. She thought. But why should I mope? Tiffany pulled her chin up trying not to feel like the little kid who had just gotten chosen last at tag–even though she had been that kid for so long. Still, the sun was shining, she didn’t have anything to do with her afternoon, she could just sit and enjoy the spring day and think about the castle.

Hopefully it wasn’t one of those abandoned cause of the evil spirits places–it had stood empty for too long to be the plague, even the earliest plague victims–she could work around most of the other possible reasons the Shadowcrestians had abandoned it. But it wouldn’t work too well to have Sir Wesley making signs to ward off evil every step he took in the castle.

And there was some very interesting… Tiffany sighed as she noticed Ren walking up the slope toward the shed where Peyton undoubtedly was, even she couldn’t pretend to be really interested in what she had to say about the castle, not when everwhere she rested her eyes there was…

…someone else. Oh, the hell of being single in a house full of couples. And how fucking well she knew it. The guys in Shadowcrest at least had hope, they could imagine that there would be some girl who would come along…

… but she’d met all the guys in Shadowcrest and there wasn’t a one that set her heart a pittering. There were ones she liked. Ones who were interesting to have conversations with, and all of them were gorgeous, was Shadowcrest just a genetically freaky place prone to very good looking people or had the plague just skipped all the freakisly good looking ones?

But there wasn’t anyone who just made her lose it by walking into the room.

“Is something the matter, Lady Tiffany? You’re looking forlorn.” Tiffany tried not to jump as the King startled the hell out of her.

“Oh, just thinking.”

“Of?”

“Lord Tennyson.” Tiffany said. No need to admit to Lock that she was moping–after all she had a castle now…

… Or at least she could keep telling herself that.

“Pardon?” Lock’s deep kingly voice was confused and she looked up for a moment into his very blue eyes.

“Alfred, Lord Tennyson, he was a poet. In his poem Locksley Hall he said ‘In the Spring a young man’s fancy lightly turns to thoughts of love.’ Just noticing all of the–fancies.” She gestured around the yard where it seemed as if something had become bound and determined to kick her while she was down. Maybe she could just start talking about her castle, that’d bore everyone back to their chores, wouldn’t it?

“Ah, aye. I understand.” She noticed a blush starting across his cheeks and she turned to follow his gaze. If Ren and Peyton hadn’t just stopped kissing, they were surely about to start, or maybe were just taking a break from it.

Something familiar crossed Lock’s face, a mixture of wistful longing and sadness, with just a dash of hopelessness. When she turned back to him, he’d laced his long fingers together, clasping his hands to his chest and giving the most ridiculous grin like ever. He was such a dork. Just like a little brother, not that she had a little brother, but other people had cute little dorky adorable brothers. Not that anyone she’d known had one quite that… her thoughts trailed off as the king turned those so-very-blue eyes on her again.

“Is there cobweb on your sleeve?” He asked after a moment.

“Damn it!” She brushed furiously at one sleeve. Lock leaned toward her and elegantly lifted a bit off–the other sleeve of course. “Yeah. I-I was exploring a castle.” Tiffany paused.

“A castle?” Rather than sounding dull and uninterested, his eyes glazing over in another “Tiffany’s off about whatever-it-is-this-time”, Lock’s eyes looked intent–and interested? He leaned forward a little.

“Yeah, I’m not sure whose it was or whatever–it looks like it’s been empty for a long while, the stables are almost completely collapsed and there’s a hole in one wall, but it’s only an hours brisk walk that way.” She pointed.

“Oh, that would probably be the old Cooksley keep.” He said.

“So, was it abandoned because of spirits or goblins or rogue ninjas or what?” Tiffany asked, waiting for the other shoe to drop, because it inevitably would. Nothing like a lovely spring day to kill a buzz.

“No, I believe the family just died out and it was an old keep, no one in the cadet branch wanted to fix it up.” Lock said after a moment’s thought.

“Sweet! So there’s no reason I couldn’t fix it up if I wanted?” Tiffany asked, the king blinked very long eyelashes at her for a moment, his head cocking to one side.

“I… suppose not.” Lock said.”Why?”

“Well, everyone keeps commenting that your house just isn’t big enough. It was probably cool and great when you were just Lock the wizard of whatever, but you’re the king now. You need someplace to put people. We’re gonna have to start sitting out on your lawn to have meetings.” Tiffany bit her lip. “And–it’s a castle.” She admitted toward another bit of cobweb on her sleeve. What did she pick up a spider who was fucking with her somewhere?

“Ah! Well, I had thought that I would just–” he trailed off for a moment and Tiffany could feel the hope dying in her eyes. “I guess I don’t understand the importance of a castle.”

“I’ve always wanted to build one, lacking the man power to do that…” She stubbed a toe at the ground.

“Oh! Well, it certainly would have room. Perhaps the next time I can pull myself away from my–my nanny goats–we could go look at the keep.” Lock suggested. Tiffany’s eyes came up fast and then shifted toward where the couples around her stood lost in each others eyes.

“Well, your nanny goats don’t have you locked down now, why not now?” She hoped that he wouldn’t hear the desperation in her voice.

But if he did, he was more than enough a gentleman not to say it. He made an after you gesture and Tiffany hurried off toward the castle. Maybe I don’t have a Prince Charming, but at least I still have my castle. And maybe if she kept telling herself that–it’d be enough.

“We meet here again, Mr. Smith.” Lady Peyton laughed. Ren tried not to look blank, which just made Lady Peyton throw her head back further, the sunlight shimmering off her platinum hair, her gray eyes shining near silver, apparently he hadn’t hid it very well at all.

“Uh–aye?” Ren said when she looked at him expectantly. She shook her head. “So, what does this fine morning find you doing.”

“Being awake, apparently.” She shrugged. Ren cocked his head to the side. “Mornings, in my view at least are really only there to keep night and afternoon from bumping into each other. “But you can’t sleep around here after the sun starts rising, Dr. Misra’s day starts at Oh-my-god and woe to anyone who is not their most productive when it’s still dark out.”

“Uh–I’m sorry?”Ren said.

“For what, you’re not the one waking me up at an hour where even the birds roll over and hit the snooze alarm and then expecting me to be happy about it.” Lady Peyton shook her head. “As for what I’m about to do, well, there’s a never ending parade of things I probably should do, help Heidi in the garden, work on those fabric samples Fox wants me to try weaving, making a new set of cups for the kitchen. But I don’t think I’m doing any of those things today. I think today I’m gonna play hooky.”

“Hooky?” She was so different, how could you love a woman who could talk for an hour and you didn’t understand a single word that she said? Or if you understood the word it wasn’t in a context you did.

“Yeah, that’s what they’d call it when you should be at school but weren’t. There’s this patch of clouds that just needs to be studied today, and I think that that is what I’m going to do.”

“Study the clouds?”

“Haven’t you ever done that?” Lady Peyton asked. “Just say and stared at the sky, watched for dragons and hippopotamuses and Sneezy the dwarf in the clouds?”

“Not–not since I was a very young lad.” Ren admitted.

“Then it’s time you did again,” Lady Peyton said. “Play hooky with me.” She smiled and Ren felt his resolve crumbling. He had stuff to be doing. There was a long list of things that he needed to get done. But somehow, with her smiling at him like that, he just didn’t want to go do it. He followed as she lead him off to a space behind the barn, between the two sheds.

The grass was soft and just slightly cool as they sat on it. Though the clouds on the horizon could have spelled rain, or even snow, the air held nothing but the promise of spring, blossoms and new leaves, fresh grass. So different than last year when the air still held the smell of things burned.

“So what do you see?” She asked as she laid back on the grass and he laid back also.

“Um…”

“That one,” She pointed to a cloud. “It looks like an elephant with wings.”

“Uh, aye?”

“No, c’mon, try!” Peyton turned gray eyes toward him. “What about that one?” She pointed to another cloud.

“A bat?” Ren said after a moment of attempting to decipher the shape. It looked like a cloud. But this seemed important to Peyton and so he had to try.

“No, it more looks like moose antlers.”

“Oh.” Apparently he was bad at this. Peyton looked at him before sitting up.

“Ren, you’re not getting this wrong. It’s–open to interpretation. So if I tell you that that one looks like Elvis in a parrot-head hat, you can tell me no, it looks like King George smoking a joint. And we both might be right.” Her hair fell into her eyes and he had the overwhelming urge to brush it back. Except–what if that was too forward?

“…Did King George do that?” He asked instead.

“I dunno.”

“Oh.”

“You are so cute.” Peyton laughed, cocking her head to the side.

“I–uh–I am?”

“Adorable.” He bit the inside of his lip, uncertain what to say to that. He never had the right words. They just weren’t… they never came at the right time, if they came at all.

A scream rocked the idyllic morning. “Heidi!” Peyton shot to her feet with a speed Ren could only blink at for a moment. She was running before he could even get up.

“What happened?” Heidi asked.

“The–it was,” the boyish tenor that was stumbling for an answer, rough in a way that Ren had never heard, was still unmistakable. Sawyer.

“Oh, my god!” Peyton shrieked. “Kennedy!” She pelted off toward a shed. “Kennedy!” Ren rounded the corner as she went the other way, only to pull up short and gasp.

Sawyer was gasping and sobbing, his back against the stone fence. Heidi knelt on the other side of a prone form. The coppery scent of blood caught up in the thick smell of blossoms. He was pretty sure, though, he recognized those boots.

“The animals, they just–I ain’t never seen nothing like it! We were up in the lower pasture and I dunno what happened!” Sawyer said. “And then sudden Jarrett went down. And I got to him quick as I could, but, it wasn’t…”

Some disconnected part of Ren paused for a moment in wonder. It was over half a mile from the lower pasture to here, how had Sawyer, slim, practically waif-like Sawyer, carried Jarrett over half a mile. Jarret was a big man, nearly as big as Ren and Ren wasn’t sure he could have carried Jarrett down the street, let alone halfway across town.

By the time it took him to get from the corner of the barn to halfway down it, Kennedy had materialized out of nowhere. She took in the scene with a quick glance then turned to Ren. “Go get the King.” Ren nodded quickly and bolted.

Ren would see Sawyer’s face, hear his plaintive voice apologizing for a long, long time. “I’m sorry, Lady Kennedy, I’m sorry.”

“Sawyer, it’s okay, we just need to get him into the house now.”

Ren didn’t slow, he could see Emanuel and Fox look at him as he cut through the yard at the merchant lot, see Lord Dolph and Sir Camden in their garden, but he didn’t stop, nothing stopped him until he stood facing the door of the King’s cottage. He knocked, a loud rapping sound like a woodpecker on a tree.

“Master Ren!” Tate, the King’s servant, looked shocked to see him there.

“Is the king available? It’s an emergency.”

“I–” Tate began to say.

“Yes, I am, what is it?” King Lachlan stepped out of the gloom in the hall and into the sunlight, a book still in hand.

“Jarrett’s hurt. Hurt bad. I don’t know what happened. Lady Kennedy just told me to get you.” He didn’t hardly look at the king, who was he to demand that the king go anywhere, even to save the life of a man. King Phillip wouldn’t have, not for a butcher, a peasant.

But Lachlan had never been King Phillip. “Tate, grab my things.” King Lachlan said sharply. The boy bobbed his head and took off quick as a squirrel.

It all seemed a blur, he couldn’t remember if he walked back to the barn or the king had done something else, all he knew was that the next thing he really remembered was walking into the barn, the king to his right, Sir Wesley a few steps behind. Sawyer and Jolene sitting side by side on the sofa, not speaking and certainly not touching and Peyton pacing the floor like a caged wolf behind them.

The King and Sir Wesley both headed for the staircase after Peyton had pointed upward in response to Lachlan’s inquiry as to where Jarrett was.

“Anything?” Ren asked.

“They–say no news is good news.” Peyton said, her face starting to crumble.

—

Why him? Why Jarrett? Sawyer would have cursed, would have screamed, if he could have done anything to burn through the apathy that stole his strength and his breath.He could hear Lady Jolene crack her neck, first to one side, then to the other. It seemed to be a nervous tick. He’d never noticed.

“Wanna talk about it?” Lady Jolene’s voice murmured.

Sawyer opened his mouth to say no. “Why him?” He found himself asking instead.

“I don’t know.”

“If anyone deserved to be left alone it should be him. Unless…”

“Unless?” Jolene echoed.

“You don’t think he–he wanted this, do you?” Sawyer asked of his hands. Everyone leaves me. Everyone always leaves me. He could never remember his parents, his mother, but everyone he could remember, they were always taken from him. Usually violently and in great pain. Was it me? Did I? Oh, please, Gods, don’t tell me I did this.

“No.”

“He wants to be with his family, my lady.” Sawyer whispered.

“He wouldn’t want to leave you, not like this. Not when you’d blame yourself.” Lady Jolene said, her hand touching his just briefly. The day drug on and on and still they heard nothing. Sawyer couldn’t take it anymore. It was like there was no air in there.

Maybe some part of him, as he settled on the grass outside, realized that he was crying, but he couldn’t bring himself to care. A soft swish of fabric alerted him that someone was standing outside, but he kept his eyes fixed on the sky, on this cloud that sort of looked like a sheep–sort of looked like Jarrett.

“I wish I knew what to say.” Lady Jolene spoke softly, her hem almost brushing his arm.

“Why don’t you just say what everyone is thinking? That this is my fault.” He was on his feet, yelling, even as a part of him recoiled from the idea of ever yelling at her.

“How the fuck do you get that?” Lady Jolene said. “Sawyer, if anything you helped, if he lives, you saved him. If, heaven forbid, he doesn’t, you tried.”

“Because people around me just die.” He said but before he could unclench his teeth to say more, a pair of arms were wrapped around him, he found himself drawn in, wrapped in the soft smell of Lady Jolene’s hair.

“Sawyer. Life’s a pretty fragile thing. Have you ever thought maybe it’s less you kill all the people around you and more the life you’ve lead is unstable?” She whispered, her breath stirring his hair, sliding down his neck.

“Then why did this happen?”Though it pained him to pull away, he couldn’t–it was hard enough arguing with her, he couldn’t do it when she was standing so close to him.

“Why does anything bad happen?” She countered.

“There’s got to be a reason.”

“Okay, it was a moment of catastrophic failure destined to occur for millions of years.” Lady Jolene said. Sawyer stared, and she reached out brushing a tear off his cheek. “You asked for a reason. Not one that made sense, cause there isn’t ever a reason that makes sense when bad things happen.”

“Never?” Sawyer stared at his feet. Jolene looked at him, her eyes so dark in the twilight, and then he found himself being pulled into her again, caught in her grasp like a leaf in a whirlwind. Her lips brushed soft and quick across his. Before he could even make sense of what had just happened, she buried her face in his neck.

“There’s not much of a reason good things happen either, you know?”

Dolph sat at his desk and stared at the piece of parchment in front of him, trying to force the lines into some semblance of sense. But every time he thought that maybe, perhaps this time he had achieved that, the bottom would fall out and he’d have to start all over again. Nearly eight years working as a traveling judge was surprisingly little aid in becoming a councilor to the king. He sighed and shuffled the papers once more. Maybe it was more winter was finally releasing it’s hold on the world and so the part of him that had spent all those years as a judge was preparing to pack up and ride out.

Except all those towns, all those circuits, weren’t there anymore, the roads were overgrown with trees and weeds, hardly more than a beaten rut going soft with melted snow or a bottom jaw of broken stones and patches of mud in towns that no longer existed. Even in Shadowhaven, in the Black Gate region, the part that was hit first and hardest by the plague, the streets were an ugly mess.

Maybe that was why it was so hard to make the words on the page fit some semblance of sense. This sort of thing just didn’t make sense. None of it made any sense at all.

A soft tap came upon the door. “Come in, it’s open!” Dolph called in answer to that tap, shutting the heavy law book and straightening the papers on the desk in front of it. A breeze that was still sort of chill, but scented with the coming spring, and a soft footstep signaled someone coming in.

“What if I’d been a bandit, Lord Dolph?” Lady Heidi asked, her breathy voice was teasing.

“Bandit’s don’t knock, besides there aren’t any bandits in Shadowcrest at the moment, Lady Heidi.”

“Well, not if you don’t count Master Fox. You should see what he’s charging for this pair of slippers that I want, my lord.” Lady Heidi teased.

“That is a merchant for you.” Dolph smiled. “Besides, my lady, I could only think of a few people who might knock, and all of them were people I would like to see.”

“Apparently you have better luck, then, my Lord, than Peyton, she says when the door opens it’s almost never someone she wants to see.” Lady Heidi smiled.

“Perhaps I just like people better than Lady Peyton. I didn’t realize she was so curmudgeonly.”

“She isn’t, not really. I mean she can be a grouch, but, I think part of that is camouflage. She doesn’t want to admit that she likes people.”

“What could possibly so wrong with liking people, my lady?”Dolph asked confused.

“Nothing, really, but if you allow people in, they have a certain degree of power over you, I don’t think that Peyton likes giving over that power.” Heidi’s brown eyes were far away for a long moment. “So, what’s today find you doing, my lord?”

“The King asked me to review some of the laws on the books, to see if they made sense or how we could make them better.” Dolph laughed wryly. “Unfortunately that’s several hundred years of law, and painfully little sense.”

“Isn’t that always the way?” Heidi asked with a faint smile. “Of course most laws were written to stop or prevent people from doing certain things, and those things didn’t always make sense either. Like there’s a law where I’m from that makes it illegal to wear a false mustache in church. I haven’t any idea why someone would need to make a law against that, but apparently it was enough of an epidemic that someone needed to outlaw it.”

Okay, so most of Shadowcrest’s laws weren’t that bad. Dolph echoed the smile though, it was hard not to answer that smile. Especially the way that Lady Heidi’s eyes softened and turned far away. He didn’t think that anyone would really categorize Lady Heidi as a “hard” person, she was, for the most part genuinely nice and caring. And very open–at least compared to most of the women that Dolph had known–not that they were always the best example.

But there was definitely something in her eyes that was misleading, and when she smiled, that mask seemed to waver a little.

“And you, my lady?” Dolph asked, after perhaps a hair too long of running his eyes over her face.

“Oh, the king had a favor he wished me to do for him and then as the snow has finally receded, at least for the moment, and I was in the relative neighborhood, I thought that I would stop by, my lord.”

“Sounds like a good idea, after Sir Camden returns from his errands, we had discussed trying to turn over some soil for our kitchen garden.” Dolph said.

“I thought that Tiffany was going to work on getting you guys into houses in the spring.”

“This isn’t a house?” Dolph asked his brow arching upward.

“Oh, well, yes, it is. Definitely a guy house. But a house.” Lady Heidi said. “But, you’ve got to admit, it is not exactly a–nobleman’s house.”

“Then again neither is Lock’s cottage, my lady.”

“You have me there, my lord.” Lady Heidi chuckled.

“Might I ask, my lady, what a ‘guy house’ is?” Dolph asked.

“Oh, just, your house has a very masculine feel to it. No huge amounts of clutter or pictures upon the wall, the dishes are put away in the cupboard. In my experience it seems that most men follow one of two extremes when not living with a woman. They’re either hyper neat with no real need for clutter or throw pillows or they’re total slobs and you have to pick socks up off the sofa before you can sit on it.” Lady Heidi said. “It looks nice in here, it’s not that it’s not decorated, but your walls have one tapestry or painting, not half a dozen.”

“Ah.” Dolph said not sure what to say or do, other than to wonder at why he was so curious about how Lady Heidi knew of other men’s houses. And not wanting to ask until he did know, he changed the subject, inquiring about luncheon and whether she’d eaten or not. Over lunch they talked of the coming spring and how it was making Dolph feel somewhat restless and of Lady Heidi’s plans for the spring, which seemed to mostly be learning weaving and potting and so forth–and also to teach Lady Peyton to cook–cause she apparently didn’t.

After the meal, and three times of Dolph reassuring her that he could, in fact, wash two bowls and spoons, even dry them and put them away, she sat on the sofa and watched him with those dark steady eyes.

“I suppose I should probably go and let you get back to your silly laws.” Lady Heidi said after a long turn of silence.

“I haven’t really the time to get back into them,” Dolph admitted. “Sir Camden should be returning practically at any moment. Unless–unless you have something that I’m keeping you from.”

“Not a thing.” Lady Heidi’s head cocked to the side just slightly as she watched him and he found himself shot back in time, it had been on a sofa quite like this one, in the well-used parlor of the dowager estate where he’d grown up, that Lady Marjorie had told him that her father, Lord Ashby, had decided that his judicial apprentice was–well, under the fancy words–not good enough to marry into his family. So he was going to pursue the betrothal to Baron Sadius.

He wondered, briefly, if she had been happy. He’d seen her, a few times, on circuits, always from a distance, as if he’d been something she didn’t want to remember. He had, in fact, signed the betrothal agreement for her eldest daughter, the last time he’d gone through the baron’s lands.

“My lord?” Lady Heidi’s voice broke into his reverie and he pulled himself back into the present, only to lose himself again, in her deep eyes.

He pushed himself up out of his seat, a stricken look on his face.

Dolph felt a hand lightly touch his shoulder and turned to face her, wondering, for a brief moment why this was effecting him so badly now–after all this time.

“We all have bad memories, you know.” Lady Heidi said.

“What did I say?” Dolph asked, his voice sounding somewhat hoarse.

“I–uh,” She blinked as if not quite able to recall, her small, pale hand reached out and touched his jaw, tipping it just slightly, then her lips were on his. Wrapped up in the sense of her was something else, something sharp and light… something like the feeling inside the King’s work room, but at the same time very different. “Oh, I am so sorry!” Her voice was the next thing he was aware of.

As if that contact had scrambled his wits entirely, it was a blur, Camden appearing in the hallway, Heidi excusing herself a moment later, leaving both men to stare after her. But the door shutting after her seemed to wake him.

“Heidi! Heidi, wait!” He called as he hit the door with a force that probably cracked something. She was already over the footbridge and on her way back to the barn. She turned and looked at him, something in her eyes, her shoulders seeming to quiver just slightly.

And then he was there, with her, taking her in his arms and kissing her. She pulled back, shocked, but something on his face seemed to break the shock and she giggled. He felt a smile tug at the corner of his lips, something that felt like the spring sunlight falling down onto their shoulders. Something like–like a new beginning.

Peyton stared for a long moment at the lump of clay in front of her then put her hands to the surface, her foot spinning the wheel. The clay squished and slid and clung to her fingers. God she loved that feeling. If she closed her eyes and just focused on the clay, the way it felt, the way it smelled, the way the pottery wheel sounded, she could almost have been back in the studio at school.

The studio had been her refuge, her hideaway. The one place she could be herself, just herself and not catch any shit for it. It would have surprised no one who had known her that she had more or less staked this little shed as her territory from about the moment that Tiffany had hung the door on it, pronouncing it safe to use.

She wouldn’t have considered herself a loner, she didn’t have trouble with being around people, she just had, from earliest memory,  needed time and space to herself. She remembered stories of hiding in the toybox from her nanny, or when a little older in the big walk in closet, as a teenager, it had been in the attic. She’d lost that when she went away to school. Her parents and one of her mother’s “dear friends” had gone together and rented an apartment for Peyton and Laurell, her mother’s friend’s daughter. That could have been wonderful.

Except of course the reason her parents had done that. Apparently they had been expecting Peyton’s “out of the closet” speech since she was about fifteen. And that by setting Peyton up with Laurell, they’d be showing how with it and cool and liberal they were.

One teensy problem with that. Peyton wasn’t gay. She didn’t have the slightest interest in other women. So she liked sports and hanging out with the guys better than having her nails done and hanging out with the girls, it didn’t mean that she was gender confused, she just liked sports.

And it wasn’t that Laurell hadn’t gotten it, of course there had been a bit of embarrassment there when she realized that that was at least part of the reason behind the apartment and choice of roommates. (And the look on her mother’s face when she’d confronted her with the whole thing.) But Laurell had been a social person, she had friends over and lovers in and out and when she didn’t have someone over it wasn’t even a reprieve for Peyton, because Laurell was constantly dragging her out to spend time with people.

There was rarely time for herself. And–also–in the apartment she had always been reminded of the daughter that her parents were expecting her to be. The one who was working her way through pre-law, the one who was supposed to spend every spare minute thinking about the L-sats. That daughter.

The one that they more or less cut off until she came to her senses and put in her applications for law school, life wasn’t about being happy, life was about… fuck if she knew what life was about. How her parents could be so open about her possible sexuality and so blind to the idea that maybe, just maybe, she wanted to live the rest of her life the way she wanted to live it.

It didn’t matter who she wanted to fuck as long as she’d be going into her father’s law firm when she passed the bar. And the stupid thing was that her sisters were perfectly content going into the roles that her parents had imagined for them. Eleanor was in her final year of med school. And Alice was already climbing the corporate ladder soon to backstab and sleep her way into that vp position.

And Peyton, well, Peyton was the son who was a daughter, maybe that’s why they were so keen to have her make a monogamous relationship with Laurell. She could hyphenate their names after their commitment ceremony and they could adopt two kids or have them surrogated. Ugh.

She opened her eyes to look at the lump of clay in front of her. She supposed it was possible to sculpt a pot without seeing the thing–but she had always had better luck with being able to see it. But the first thing she saw when she opened them was–that thing. That thing that someone had hung, probably Jolene, who else would have made a pink quilt and put it on the wall next to Peyton’s pottery wheel?

Peyton was still brooding over the invasion when the door opened and closed behind her. Even if she hadn’t heard the door, the blast of arctic air would have cued her to the intruder. How long does winter have to last? Peyton stabbed a thought upward. It had been snowing for months straight it seemed like. Shouldn’t spring be peeking around the corners? Anything but unending gray skies and miles and miles of white mounds.

She expected to hear the sound of a chair scraping out by the loom or something, but no, just the soft rustle of a hem scraping against the floor, well that helped albeit minimally, it meant whoever was standing behind her was wearing a dress, or possibly a long cloak, come to think of it, that didn’t help much at all.

And it certainly didn’t tell Peyton who it was and what they wanted with her, so she expected that she should probably turn and find out.

Heidi. She supposed, if it was Heidi that she should turn around and find out what she wanted. “May I help you?” Peyton asked before setting her now finished pot into the cupboard to be fired later.

“Actually I came to tell you that you have a visitor.” There was something slightly calculating in her face. Well that actually told her more than Heidi probably thought it did. If it had been a social visit or even a semi-professional visit, like Fox coming to request some more fabric woven her face would be softer, she’d have been smiling. Nope that was a look that said something more was going on here.

“Oh. Who’d wanna see me?” Peyton asked, not expecting an answer but so she could watch the other woman’s face while she did answer.

“Just someone who’d like to talk to you, but you’d better wash your hands first.” Heidi said, reminding Peyton more of her father’s assistant, Maggie than of Heidi. Ah, it’s one of the nobles. But Peyton did as the redhaired woman bid and then followed her back to the barn.

She closed the door after her and turned to see–Lachlan. The King. Peyton’s stomach dropped. She couldn’t think of a single reason why the king would want to see her. Or–what if he thinks the same thing that my parents thought? What if he’s sending me back cause he thinks I’d rather munch bush? Would I care? She had been making the best of being in Shadowcrest, but she wouldn’t have made the immediate leap to happy. There didn’t seem to be much of a place for someone like here her.

Still, she didn’t want to be a failure in their eyes too.

“Why don’t you and Peyton talk upstairs, your majesty. The barn does sort of lack privacy.” Heidi suggested. Oh, God. Peyton’s stomach lurched, too much more of this and she was going to lose dinner all over the king’s boots. Heidi? I thought we were–friends. But she has to have something to do with this, she’s way too calm. Why… is she seriously turning me in for being a lesbian? She couldn’t have just asked.

The king nodded calmly and headed up the spiral staircase to the barn loft. With Raquel’s bed gone, the end of the loft had been turned into another sitting area. Come spring they’d probably be putting the bed back in, but for right now they needed more places to sit. Privacy as Heidi had said.

“This space is always changing, isn’t it?” Lachlan mused.

“Well, there are five of us here and I think we all have a want to personalize our space.” Peyton said, eying the bench for a moment. She didn’t want to have this talk. It wasn’t the staying in Shadowcrest or leaving, it was the failure. Her parents had said that she’d be a failure when she said that she didn’t want to go to law school, and here the first thing that really happened after that is her ending up as a failure. For something she wasn’t even.

“You don’t have to be nervous, Lady Peyton.” Lachlan said. His voice just sounded like a King’s voice, even if his words didn’t always. It was rich and steady and solid. Calming. Although she was sure it could sound intimidating, she’d never seen the king intimidate anyone. “Lady Heidi wished me to talk to you.” He said confirming her fears. Goddamnit.

“She said that you seem–despondent.” Peyton jerked and stared bewildered as he continued. “Lady Peyton?”

“Oh.” Just… oh.

“My lady?”

“I–didn’t think you were going to talk to me about that.” She admitted to her hands.

“What did you think we were going to speak of?” Lachlan asked, looking puzzled.

“Oh, I dunno. My lack of–girl-ness.”

“Girlness?” She gestured sort of vaguely at herself and watched as Lachlan’s face bloomed past red to purple. “I’m sure–er, I’m sure that you’re quite feminine, Lady Peyton.”

He–does he think I’m talking about my tits? Peyton wondered and then realized that she was about to ask that of the king. Maybe Lachlan didn’t stand on ceremony, but still, big difference between talking plainly and then talking about boobs. “I meant femininity  in a personality sense, not a physical one, your majesty.”

“Oh.” Lachlan didn’t bother to hide his relief. “Well, it’s just, I know that while this place is very unfamiliar to you, I do want you to be content, if not happy here. Lady Heidi came to me saying that perhaps all was not right with you. She requested that I talk with you, perhaps allay some of your fears.”

It was Peyton’s turn to say, “Oh.”

“Is something the matter, Lady Peyton? I know that Lady Heidi is certain of it, but I believe I should at least inquire.”

“I just,” There was something about the King’s face that seemed to invite confidences and so Peyton plunged ahead. “It seems to me, your majesty, that you need girls here. Women who are going to be ladies. And I’m not one of those women. I’m the girl you call when you want a third for a pick up game. I’m the girl you call when your goalie’s out sick. I’m not the girl who goes ‘Yay, babies! I want one–or seven.’ and can’t wait to be a wife and mother.” Lachlan nodded.

“I suppose it could seem that way. But, Lady Peyton, my spells to find you–all of you–were very complex. But foremost in my mind was to find those ladies who could help rebuild Shadowcrest, not just repopulate it. Your talents and abilities are going to be far more valuable than–to be crude–someone with round heels.” Lachlan colored again as if he’d said something he normally wouldn’t have said to a woman.

Except Peyton didn’t understand the reference and had to ask. “Round heels?”

“The sort of lady who is always on her back.” He said delicately. Peyton nodded in understanding. “Shadowcrest needs to be healed, reforged. Not just filled with squalling brats. Do you understand now?”

“Yeah, I guess I do.”

“Is that perhaps a portion of what has been the issue?” The king asked.

“Well, yeah. I just–I can’t see where you’d need someone like me.” Peyton said with a shrug.

“If nothing else you can be a role model to those other girls who will come later and not want to say ‘yay, babies’ themselves. But Master Fox says that you weave very well and also that you are quite a potter, both of which are things that we have some need of. So I would not write your abilities off.” The King said with a reassuring smile.

“Thank you, your majesty. I’m sorry you had to come all this way just cause I’m mopey.”

“Not at all. The fresh air did me a world of good. Sir Wesley has commented that I’m beginning to resemble a vampire for all the sun I see.”

“Fresh air? Breathing outside is like trying to snort liquid nitrogen.” Lachlan laughed and stood. It seemed just wrong to hug the king, but seemed like something more was required here.

But Lachlan seemed to have that in order too, his strong hand gripped her wrist and he pulled her into his shoulder before heading downstairs. She could hear him murmur softly to–it sounded like Heidi before seeing him take to his broom and disappear in the direction of his home.

Her mind was a twisted, confused mess so it wasn’t Heidi ratting her out, but that the other woman was concerned. Mentally she apologized, as she hadn’t said anything and the way this had gotten handled had, after all, almost made Peyton lose her lunch on the king’s boots so she wasn’t apologizing outloud. Instead she collected her coat and boots and headed outside.

If nothing else, the wintery air did clear her head. And maybe it even felt a little less arctic and god forsaken. Movement caught her eye and she had to stop herself from gaping. What was Ren doing here? Probably come to see Kennedy. It wasn’t exactly a nice night for a walk.

He caught sight of her and started himself. His path altered slightly as he entered the gate.

“Lady Peyton.” He nodded with a half bow.

“Master Ren.”

“How–how are you this evening?” He asked, his eyes flicking over her face before flicking off to one side.

“A bit–bewildered, I guess. Just had an interesting talk with the King.” The smith wordlessly mouthed Ah.

“About?”

“Mostly my girlfail.”

“Your–what?”

“Girlfail, my failure to be much of a girl. You know, not adoring pink and puppies and cabbage roses the size of my skull.” Peyton kicked at the snow.

“There are girls and then there are girls, I suppose.” The smith said, something in his eyes that was gone before she could identify it, but she was fairly certain, whatever it was, that she hadn’t seen that look before. She just wished she could identify what it meant.

“I suppose there are.” Peyton agreed before turning once more to look out at the frozen pond. She expected to hear the snow crunch and crackle under Ren’s feet as he walked off, resumed whatever task had brought him here. But instead he stepped up beside her and looked across the ice himself. She could feel the warm, comfort of him, radiating out seeming impossibly more intense than a human should feel–or maybe it was her.

“Go to Raquel’s wedding?” Heidi asked, sounding horrified.

“No, dress me all up.” Peyton said as Heidi reached for a brush.

“Don’t you want to look pretty?”

“Beauty, goes the old cliché, is in the eye of the beholder.” Peyton shrugged philosophically. “Besides, this is more or less a lie.”

“A lie?” Jolene couldn’t see Heidi’s face, as she was standing behind her, but she would have laid money that the redhead was looking puzzled.

“I don’t really look like this, Heidi. Whatever you’re doing to my face. I don’t have those eyelashes, my lips aren’t that color, my eyelids don’t shimmer. I mean I know that part of why we’re here in Shadowcrest is basically as Magic Order Brides,” Jolene choked back a chuckle with a smirk. That, she guessed, was one way to put it. But Peyton was still talking. “I mean, we are here as the female half of the baby-making machine to restore the country. But the thing is even if this will help me attract one of those guys, it’s an illusion. He’s gonna wake up the morning after the wedding and my bust is going to be back to the size it was before I hoisted it with underwire and padded it to make it more impressive. My eyes and lips and all will be back to normal. That’s the woman he’s going to wake up next to for the rest of his natural life. Not this one.” She gestured at her face, then sighed and looked down at her bare fingernails.

“What?” Heidi asked. “Do you want me to paint your nails before we go?”

“No, I always chew fingernail polish off. I don’t chew my nails, except when there’s polish on them. No, I just had the sad realization that I’m gonna end up marrying Alistair. He’s not going to think any of our pedigrees are good enough for his, so he’ll wait until the rest of you are married off and then Lachlan’ll order him to marry me cause I’ll be the cheese, standing alone.”

“Oh, I highly doubt that.” Jolene just had to interject. “The king would no more order you to marry Alistair than he would order Sir Wesley to marry Kennedy, for the same reason, you’d kill him. He’d make one backhanded comment at you and he’ll spend the rest of his life eating soup cause he won’t have any teeth left.”

Heidi turned and tried to glare at Jolene. “Okay, maybe.” Peyton said. “But it still feels somewhat fake to do this just to attract a man.”

“We’re not doing it to attract a man,” Heidi said. “We’re doing it so you look and feel pretty.”

“I can live without pretty. How bout comfortable?” Peyton murmured.

“Hold still so I can get your eyeliner on and comfortable is not a style.” Heidi said. “My mother used to say that to me and now I’ll say it to you.” At that point Jolene shook her head and went upstairs to see how Raquel was doing.

Apparently, Jolene thought, seeing the girl’s shoes on the bed as she crested the stairs, not much better than she’d been doing all morning. Or for that matter, most of the week. She strangled down the feeling once again that she should be saying no. She’d been strangling down that feeling ever since Raquel had come home and had told them that Blake had proposed. Because even then Jolene had a feeling “Marry me” wasn’t “someday in the future when we’re both grown and ready for it.” It was “someday soon.”

Marriage seemed like an awfully big step, one, Jolene was sure, only slightly proceeded babies and Raquel was far too young for motherhood. Jolene hadn’t been sixteen in almost a decade and she barely thought she was ready for marriage and possible motherhood. Although she was fairly certain that, as Peyton had pointed out downstairs, it was what she was here for.

Kennedy, who–though she would never admit it–looked sorta like Belle from Disney’s Beauty and the Beast in that dress with her hair like that, a very tan Belle, but Belle none-the-less and Tiffany–whose silver and ice blue dress had been chosen because it was “shiny” and Tiffany was a self-described magpie, sorta reminded Jolene of Cinderella’s dress, were pointedly not looking at the bride in her grape juice toned wedding dress.

“So how’s it going?” Jolene asked quietly, after Kennedy stopped laughing–a shade too loud and a shade too hearty to be one hundred percent from genuine mirth–at whatever Tiffany had said.

“Well,” Tiffany murmured. “She’s not crying anymore at least.”

“She isn’t ready for this.” Jolene said, looking over her shoulder at the slight girl on the bed.

“Probably not, but we’ve already tried to talk her out of it, and you know Lock’s stance on the whole thing.” Kennedy muttered.

“What do we do then?” Jolene asked.

“Hope that my lecture to Blake worked like it was supposed to.” Kennedy chuckled.

“What lecture?” Raquel asked, heaving herself onto her back.

“Oh, nothing.”

—

Agreeing with the logic behind the ceremony or not, it had been a very pretty one, Jolene thought, as she sat at one of the tables in the reception area of the church. And she cried, which was about par of the course. There had been this girl that Jolene had known back home, someone who worked at a Stop and Rob, that lived up to it’s name, getting held up often. The gas station was on Jolene’s patrol, who had gotten married to her sweetheart–Jolene used that term loosely–a couple years back. It had, Jolene had to admit, been about the most ghetto wedding ever–the priest having to pause every five or so minutes to let the groom shake out his leg and swear cause his home arrest bracelet kept shocking him, among other things. And she’d still cried at that wedding.

She was just that kind of girl.

At least Blake was the sort of man that it didn’t make you throw up a little to term him someone’s sweetheart. He would, Jolene knew, from the way he watched Raquel do his best for her, and that almost made her forget her misconceptions about the wedding. Almost.

Unfortunately, one of her tablemates, made her develop a whole new set of things to dread. For some genius had managed to sit her next to Sawyer–and if she found out that whomever had done it had done it on purpose…

He was a really sweet kid and when he grew up, he’d probably make some girl a good husband. Some girl more like Raquel, someone he could grow up with, mature with, go through all those little steps of becoming an adult and a man with. Some girl who was not her. As his hazel eyes sparkled with candle light and excitement she felt like the world’s biggest bitch, but he was too–too–Sawyer.

Like Romeo, he’d taken “love at first sight” to distressing extremes. And Jolene was determined to be his Rosaline, not his Juliet. He was too young for her. She had the better part of a decade on him, just like she had on Raquel. And he was so charming and oddly vulnerable that if she didn’t shoot him down and keep shooting him down, she’d ruin him. Because even in Shadowcrest she was all wrong for him and he would just have to trust that she knew better than he did.

And in this case, Jolene did.

Unfortunately there was another side effect that Jolene hadn’t expected of Sawyer’s infatuation… One that she could only hope the coming spring and rest of the women would cure. Everybody liked Sawyer, he was just sorta like a puppy. And while he so obviously only had eyes only for her–no one else was going to even think about it.

When there was some adorable girl, more his age, came along. Hopefully he would, like Romeo had upon seeing Juliet, forget all about her…

It was, with almost relief, at least on her part, that Gray suggested that Sawyer, who was on musician duty for the evening, start a song. Jolene wondered, as she went to grab herself another glass of wine, if it was tradition in Shadowcrest for the couple to share the first dance, as Blake and Raquel were the only ones to have moved to the open floor behind the buffet tables, or if it was something that Raquel had suggested.

She twirled the stem of the glasses in between her fingers and watched as Master and Mistress Carpenter took their turn about the floor. They were cute together. And here, quietly, in the privacy of her own head where Peyton couldn’t mock her for being a hypocrite, she thought they’d make very pretty babies together.

When that happened, hopefully in, like, five years or more.

Sawyer was, she thought, actually a very good musician. His fiddle swelled and soared and danced along with Raquel and Blake. Jolene found that she sort of lost herself in the music because somehow it was the middle of two songs later and she was still standing by the wine bottle, glass of wine in hand, and she was no longer alone as a spectator, nor were Blake and Raquel even on the floor anymore.

In one of the little alcoves set off to the side of the dance floor, sat Blake’s best friend, the blacksmith, Ren, was chatting with… Peyton? They even sorta matched. Ren’s doublet and half his hose were purple.

She was too far away to hear what Peyton was talking about, but Ren was watching her with an expression that either meant it was really interesting or something about her was. Jolene’d have to remember to tease her about that. Especially as just that morning she’d been sure that she was going to be marrying Alistair.

Granted, as Peyton was likely to point out, talking at one wedding was far from being the next one to get married, but it’d still be fun to tease her about. But it was seeing the other couple to occupy an alcove that twisted something inside of Jolene and killed all thoughts of teasing.

And the green eyed monster hadn’t even fully come into play when she wanted to kick  herself cause it was Heidi almost too sweet to be believed Heidi, who was nice to everyone. She turned away and downed her glass of wine, practically without tasting it. Which was a bad idea, she knew that as her knees seemed to quiver for a second.

She leaned against the edge of the table, not too far, even though it felt less like table set up on barrels (like they’d used at the Harvest Fair) and more like a real table they’d just stolen from some other purpose.

A few murmurs came from behind her and suddenly the last voice she wanted to be hearing right now when the wine was going to her head and she was wondering why her, was speaking her name.

“Is something wrong, my lady?” Sawyer asked.

“Uh, no. No.” She said in hasty reassurance.

“Oh.” He said, biting his bottom lip. She watched his mouth for a second and then shook her head abruptly, turning and walking away from him–except she found herself going in the wrong direction–toward the dance floor rather than toward the tables where she could sit down and get her head back.

Almost walking into Kennedy and Emanuel, who were for the moment not sniping. In fact seemed to be lost in each others’ eyes and arms. She stared for a moment at them, then for a moment at Jarrett who was playing something haunting on Sawyer’s fiddle.

“Lady Jolene?”

“It’s nothing, just the–nothing.” She shook her head. before glancing away. Then she found herself looking back in time to see him walking away, her hands, almost of their own accord, reaching out. I can’t.

And there wasn’t even anyone she felt like she could talk with about stuff like that. How could you go up to Peyton and talk about not feeling confident? No, Peyton didn’t follow the feminine trappings but she was like-like Katherine Hepburn. That short platinum hair and make-up less look was her signature. And to hell with everyone else if they didn’t like it.

Of course Sawyer would be head over heels for Jolene! Jolene was stunning. She was a lady, strong and capable but still a lady. Why couldn’t she be more like that? Instead of tripping over her feet, still too skinny.

Well, yeah, Kennedy was brash and no-nonsense, abrasive even, but she didn’t let anyone tell her what to do or who to be. She could keep her head up no matter how many times she might take one on the chin. And nobody scared her, nobody! Some days Raquel felt scared of her own shadow. She would never be able to stand up to Lachlan the way that Kennedy did.

Or to have done what Kennedy did to Jarrett!

To add insult to injury, she had that deep tan skin and those deep stormy blue eyes that reflected her mood. Raquel couldn’t tan with a bottle of self-tanner! And her eyes were just a blah green, not even a pretty green.

Tiffany was so competent and funny, and pretty. And Raquel coveted Tiffany’s hair, which always laid so pretty, where hers liked to get frizzy and it was a blah brown. Tiffany could design buildings. Buildings! Raquel couldn’t do anything like that. Day late and a dollar short, that was what she was.

Even Heidi, who was such a sweetheart that you just couldn’t hardly be jealous of her. Except Raquel was. She was beautiful, that perfect, even, just a little bit freckly skin. But even more than her looks, she was nice to everyone, even Alistair. And nobody was nice to Alistair. He was the asshole of the year!

When everyone else was wrapped up in their after dinner activities, Raquel snuck upstairs and changed into her pjs. If anyone came up, she could pretend that she was just tired and had wanted to go to bed early. With the make-up washed off her face, Raquel’s features took on their regular bland countenance.

Hopeless, that’s what it was. Completely hopeless! Why would Blake want to marry me? She thought as her reflection wrinkled it’s nose. I’m nothing special, nothing at all. He’s gonna find that out and then it’ll be too late! He’ll be stuck with me.

She could hear footsteps on the stairs and hurried over to her bed, sitting down on the edge, trying to school her features to looks sleepy.

“Hey, you hurried off so quick, I was worried.” Heidi said stopping in the empty space between their beds. “Tired?”

“Yeah.” Raquel looked down at her hands, the lie was easier to tell if she wasn’t looking at the person she was trying to lie to. Hopefully that’d be good enough and Heidi wouldn’t stay and talk. But luck didn’t seem to be with Raquel in that either, cause Heidi sat down on her own bed, fluffing the pillow.

“Wanna talk about it?”

“Being sleepy?”

“No, what was keeping you quiet during dinner, what made you hurry upstairs away from us right after.” Raquel shot a look at Heidi, whose dark brown eyes looked sable in the candlelight, soft black and full of concern. “You worried about getting married? Blake’d wait if you asked him to, you know.”

“I shouldn’t be marrying Blake anyway.” Raquel’s hands clapped over her mouth as if she could shove the words back in.

“Do you not feel ready?” Heidi asked.

“No, it’s just Blake is so wonderful, he’s kind and he’s sweet and he’s a good friend and a good man, and he deserves somebody just as wonderful. And he’s gonna get me!” Her traitorous mouth poured out to her horror. “He deserves so much better.” She whispered.

Heidi was quiet for a long moment and Raquel’s stomach fell. I’m even worse than I thought, even Heidi can’t jump to my defense.

“So, if I buy that, do I get a beach house on Mount Shadow too?” Heidi asked.

“There aren’t any beaches on Mount Shadow.” Raquel said, puzzled for a moment.

“Exactly.” Heidi said. “I find it a little hard to buy that you’re not worthy of Blake, too. He adores you. Maybe he doesn’t go hiking across the city to serenade you in a blizzard, but only cause he’s not as-silly as Sawyer is sometimes.” Heidi shook her head. “He would if he thought it would impress you.”

“I’m just…” She couldn’t say afraid, she wanted to say afraid but she couldn’t admit that. “I was trying to figure out what I wanted to do with my hair and my makeup, for-for the wedding and everything I did looked like ass! I look like a freak.”

“You don’t. You’re a very pretty girl, Raquel.”

“It looks like I have some sort of disease on my face.” Raquel said, sitting up and staring down at her lap.

“Who said that?” Heidi asked.

“Alistair.” A glance at Heidi showed the redhaired woman’s lips tightening as if she’d bit into something sour.

“Well, that figures.” Heidi shook her head. “Why don’t you show me what you were trying, if you’re not happy with it, maybe I can help you make it better.”

“You don’t have to do that.” Raquel protested.

“Have to, no, want to, yes.” Heidi said with that shy, wonderful smile. Raquel stood up and gathered her make-up from the box under her bed. She marched over to the mirror and applied it just as she had earlier. And just as it had earlier, she looked like she should have been sporting a rainbow wig and a big red nose.

“See!” Raquel shook her head. “Would you want to wake up next to something that looked like that.” She gestured up at her face.

“Sweetie,” Heidi said putting a hand on her shoulder. “It’d flip me out to wake up sleeping next to any woman.”

“That’s not the point!” Raquel shook her head, her features twisting. “You didn’t even tell me it’s not bad.”

“It’s not what I would do. But I’m not you.” Heidi told her. “But that doesn’t mean that it looks terrible.”

“But even I don’t like it.”

“Well, I know that pairing a strong lipstick with a strong eyeshadow on pale skin can be overwhelming. I know rules are made to be broken, but there was a reason why it was a ‘rule’ for so long.” Heidi said, then cocked her head to the side. “I think that the eyeshadow might look less overwhelming if you wanted to use a lighter lipstick.”

“But aren’t ladies supposed to have red lips, like Snow White?” Raquel asked.

“You mean like ‘medieval ladies’ or do you mean like ‘faerie tale ladies’?” Heidi asked. “Is that how you want to do your hair?”

“My hair’s wrong too?” Raquel asked in despair.

“Not wrong. There isn’t a wrong here, Raquel.” Heidi said. She looked at Raquel for a long moment, something passing over her face.

“C’mon, let’s go downstairs where the light’s better, we’ll try something.” The other women were sitting around the fire, Jolene a book in her hand, Kennedy telling Peyton to get her sneakers off the sofa, Tiffany just looking into the fire. They looked up and over their shoulders at the girl in her pajamas and overly made up face, but no one said anything and Raquel felt her stomach twist.

While dinner was attempting to climb back up Raquel’s throat, Heidi had moved two of the dining room chairs to face each other and waved Raquel into one and took the other. She first made quick work of removing the make-up from Raquel’s face and then applied other stuff, muttering to herself. After what felt like it must have been hours, but couldn’t have been that long cause no one even had to go poke at the fire in that time, Heidi stood and took down Raquel’s hair.

For a long time, other than the soft murmur of conversation and the softer crackle-hiss of the fireplace, there was only Heidi’s competent hands, working on Raquel’s hair, twisting and twining the strands.

“Okay, now, go to that mirror over there, and tell me you look like a freak.” Raquel, did as Heidi told her to. Her stomach still roiling and twisting. Jolene looked up from her book, an unreadable expression on her face and Raquel wondered if she was actually going to make it to the mirror-and the bowl under it before she threw up.

“Oh…” Raquel said when she did see her reflection. Maybe she still wasn’t as pretty as some of the others, but-no. She definitely didn’t look like a freak.

“Is that a good oh or a bad one?” Heidi teased.

“Thank you.” Raquel said, hurrying back over to where Heidi stood and giving the other woman a hug. “Can you do it again?”

“Anytime.” Heidi patted her back.

—

Heidi might have meant that, but Raquel didn’t want to press her luck. Still, the next day, while she was waiting for lunch, cause Blake was supposed to be coming for lunch, she tried something a little different with her make-up and hair. But somehow, once she caught sight of Blake coming in the gate, all of her confidence fled her, and she rushed out to see him, burying her face in his chest.

“What’s wrong?” He asked. She shook her head. She couldn’t tell him. what if he didn’t understand-or worse yet, what if he agreed. He tipped her face up to look at him. But that was the chicken way out…

“Don’t.” She found herself murmuring. Puzzlement crossed the young carpenter’s face. “I wanted to look-pretty-you know-for the wedding, but I can’t. I can’t be the kind of lady you should be with.”

“Raquel, I love you. I don’t care if you want to show up to the wedding in a sack or-or like that singer you always tell me about, the one who dresses so oddly. Whatever you want to wear, however you want to wear your hair or your cosmetics. Love, I don’t care how you look when you show up to the wedding, as long as you show up.” He said, pulling her into a hug.

“You deserve someone better.” She said, starting to try and pull away.

“Impossible.” He murmured in her hair, tightening his hold on her.

“How’s that impossible.”

“‘Cause there isn’t anyone better, not here, not anywhere.”

“Peyton, sweetie, we’re waiting.” Jolene called over the screen that separated the dressing area from the dorm part of the barn loft. Heidi hid a smile as Peyton huffed.

“I think she knows that, Jo.” Heidi told her. You’ve only reminded her of it three times now.

“I’m sorry I’ve been mourning my sweats they look so much more comfortable than that thing.” Peyton called back.

“It’s called a dress, Pey, girls wear them.” Jolene informed her. This was not the first time that they had had this argument.

“I can’t for the life of me imagine why.” The blonde stepped out from behind the screen to grab the chemise and dress that someone, probably Raquel, it had been her turn to bring in the laundry, had left laying on Peyton’s bed. Jolene humphed. “You may like dresses, Joey, but I don’t. I still don’t see why I have to wear one today.”

“It’s a dress up event, sweats are not dress-up.” Jolene rolled her eyes.

“Wanna bet? I’m pretty sure I have a pair of formal sweats somewhere.” Peyton shot back.

“Guys.” Heidi interjected. She liked them both, but sometimes… “Pey, considering Fox, who doesn’t like to give anything away, specifically made a dress, which is very pretty, just for you, and gave it to you to wear today, I think the least you can do is wear it. Jo, I know Peyton doesn’t like dresses, I know you do, I know you know these things also, give it a rest, please?” Peyton had disappeared back behind the screen and so didn’t see Jolene roll her eyes.

“So, what are we doing today anyway?” Peyton asked over the sound of clothing rustling.

“Apparently there’s a Harvest Faire, which basically sounds like a craft fair, the guys put together a bunch of projects and we’re gonna go browse through what’s there and see what we wanna buy.” Heidi told her.

“Buy how? I doubt they take credit cards.” Peyton said.

“If you don’t stop rolling your eyes, Jo, one of these days they’re going to roll right out of your skull.” Heidi murmured quietly before raising her voice loud enough for Peyton to hear. “From what the king told Kennedy, we’re supposed to barter, we can do something for them in return for the-whatever it is.”

“Oh?” Heidi felt her cheeks under her freckles turn slightly pink at the suggestive tone which Peyton used. Jolene smirked and Heidi swatted her arm.

“I’m fairly certain not that sort of something.” Heidi said.

“You’re blushing, aren’t you? How on earth are you still so innocent?” Peyton asked when Heidi didn’t answer the first part.

“It’s not that sex bothers me, Pey, it’s just how you say it, sometimes, that gets me.” Heidi said. Besides, she’d been told, for a long time actually, that keeping that bit of innocence about her was endearing. She tried to tell herself that the blush was more automatic than heartfelt and sincere. But it probably was somewhere in between.

“Okay, I think I have this stupid contraption on right.” Peyton told them. “I probably look ridiculous.”

“I think you look lovely.” Heidi said.

“Meh.” Peyton said, brushing back a strand of short platinum hair. “Let’s just go.” Kennedy and Tiffany were waiting for them downstairs, Raquel having dashed out the door with scant explanation which had caused more than a few raised eyebrows among the older women. But Raquel, while still firmly a “kid” to most of them, was used to being on her own. Her green eyes would turn dark and distressed when her past was brought up and no one really had the heart to press on it.

There were, after all, more than a few pasts people didn’t want to talk about. In fact, Heidi would lay odds that there were more pasts people didn’t want to talk about than pasts people did here in Shadowcrest.

“So here we are at the bastion of capitalism!” Peyton said as they walked into the open gates of the merchant camp, now that all of the merchants were safely ensconced in houses, the tents had been taken down and replaced with another set of stalls. “It isn’t quite the mall, is it?” Peyton laughed.

“Not quite.” Heidi agreed.

“What would you like to look at?” Peyton asked.

“I think I’ll just look around.” Heidi said. Overtrained, perhaps, but the crowd interested her more than the trays of fish and flowers. Just ahead was Tate and Sawyer talking earnestly about something, every so often Sawyer would break off and turn to look at Jolene who was browsing the flowers and talking with Ren, the blacksmith.

They were all terrible about teasing Jolene about Sawyer’s crush on her, but the young minstrel was so adorable, and it was so endearing to see the way his heart leapt into his eyes when he looked at her. “She’s really beautiful, isn’t she?” Sawyer said as Heidi moved past him.

“Aye.” Tate said with the resigned tone that said this was not the first time that Sawyer had mentioned it.

From there she swung past the cashbox that Blake was manning seemingly more out of habit than out of an expectation that they’d actually be paying for anything. Especially considering he wasn’t paying the slightest mind to the box and more to Raquel, who was talking fastly and excitedly about helping set up the tables for the feast. Blake was watching her with equal indulgence and interest that had nothing to do with table linens.

Beyond Emanuel and Jarrett who were talking about some herbs that Emanuel was growing that might help with an animal cough that tended to crop up in the late autumn, Tiffany was looking at a sofa. But as Heidi slid past the butcher and the apothecary, who for once didn’t carry the smell of wine about him like Pigpen had dirt in the Peanuts comics, Tiffany headed over to where Kennedy stood.

“I like it.” Tiffany said.

“I like this one better, not that anything’ll fit into the barn over the winter, we stick anything more in there and we’ll have to climb over it to get around.” Kennedy gestured to a wrought iron set with two chairs and a bench, softened with warm orange cushions.

“Well, yeah, but come spring, when we can start building again, we’ll probably have our own places to furnish. I’m sure somebody’d probably let us store the furniture for the winter. King Lachlan’s got a barn. And there’s the equipment shed here.” Tiffany pointed out.

“True.”

“So, see anything?” Peyton asked, coming up behind her.

“Meh, not a lot.” Heidi said, not wanting to admit that she’d been watching the crowd, not the contents of the stalls.

“I think someone’s watching you.” Tiffany said in a sly voice to Kennedy. Heidi kept from stiffening by will alone. Sure it had been a couple of months since she had actually done any crowd watching, but she had always sort of figured it was like riding a bike, not something you were likely to forget all of, even when not practicing.

“Tiff!” Kennedy growled. “I swear you are worse than Jaime Cauldwell in seventh grade when she was sure that Bobby Harris was in LOVE with me.”

“Was he?”

“Um, no. He did however like the guy who sat behind me in life science.” Tiffany put a hand over her mouth to cover her snort of laughter. “Will you leave off with me and Emanuel?”

“I told you when I would, you didn’t expect me to lie to you, did you?”

“Oh, look, the king.” Kennedy said using almost the exact same tone that Hugo the gargoyle had, in Disney’s The Hunchback of Notre Dame, when he said “Oh, look, a mime.” But, yes, there was the king, and his entourage.

“See, now, aren’t you glad you wore the dress?” Lachlan, Wesley, Dolph, Camden, even Gray had set aside their utilitarian garb and wore brocade tunics and hose.”You’d be terribly under-dressed in sweats.” Heidi pointed out to Peyton.

Who apparently ignored that because she said only, “The king’s got nice legs.”

“Peyton!” Heidi laughed and smacked the blonde on the arm.

The arrival of the king did sort of signal a change in the afternoon. Apparently, from what Heidi could ferret out, the king most definitely did not usually celebrate the Harvest Faire with the peasants. As for Lachlan, when he’d still been just the nephew by marriage of the king, he’d celebrated the Harvest festival either with his own family or with Wesley, Gray, and Tate.

But what point, really, was there in fixing two feasts when there were all of nineteen people in the country? And perhaps it also was the solidarity, showing that they were all survivors together.

Not long after Lachlan and the nobility arrived, the faire-goers moved away from the crowd and over to where the tables had been set up. Heidi would have to compliment Raquel, you could tell, if you looked closely, that under the slip covers that the chairs were mismatched, probably pulled from every house in the kingdom, (and perhaps even a few magicked up by Lachlan.) And that the long tables were boards set on barrels, but the linens gave the illusion and it looked lovely.

The food was lovely too. Even if half of it Heidi didn’t know what it was, and was somewhat reluctant to ask, she ate more than was really good for her. Not quite as much as Sawyer and Tate who could be excused, being teenaged boys who more than likely needed twice their body weight in food every week to survive, but more than she ate usually.

One thing she noticed though, was that there were no candles on the tables. That didn’t seem the thing that would be overlooked, so-was the feast supposed to be over before it got late? She wished that she could ask. Perhaps later.

The sky was just turning from autumn gold to dusk red, that Ren and Emanuel came to clean up the dishes from the table, sort of indicating that Heidi was right. The king stood, in obvious preparation for leaving soon, but in the general chaos that that caused, Heidi noticed someone else slipping through the crowd.

Jarrett, the solemn-faced butcher, his face even more solemn than usual, had moved from the crowd toward the gates. Heidi, curiosity practically tingling in her limbs, shadowed after him. Sawyer had cornered Jolene by the entrance and whatever it was he was saying, she was-at best-bewildered by.

“Sawyer?” Heidi asked. Jolene smiled in relief. “Where is Jarrett going?” Jolene quirked an eyebrow.

“Huh? Oh, pro’ly to Old Man ‘Liot’s hill. It’s Lost Souls night, after all.”

“Huh?”Heidi echoed.

“That’s where they put the plague cemetery, on Old Man Elliot’s hill, ‘cept nobody puts the El on t’start, it’s just Liot’s, most of the time. I think he’s going to visit his family.”

“His-family?” Jolene asked. Sawyer smiled at her.

“Aye. You-didn’t know? Jarrett’s family died in the plague.” Sawyer looked after the butcher whose blonde hair was barely visible in the waning light. “He had a little boy an’ girl an’ a wife. Twas before my time, so I never knew ‘em, but Emanuel an’ Fox, they told me. I guess he really loved his wife-an’ when she died, an’ he survived, she made him promise not to follow her, e’en though I guess he really wanted to.”

“Oh, that poor man.” Jolene said.

“Anyway, Harvest Faire ended when the sun started to set, now it’s Lost Soul’s night, the night of the dead. I bet he’s heading out to the cemetery t’ see ‘em.” Sawyer finished. Heidi found herself drawn, like a magnet, toward the cemetery. Why one man’s pain was so important, she didn’t know, but it was and it drew her.

It was full dark when she reached the cemetery, Jarrett stopped and looked up at the statue of the Grim Reaper at the gate. Heidi, with Peyton and Jolene in tow, stopped also, just outside of the light cast by the lamps. Most of the streets in Shadowcrest weren’t illuminated, usually just the places where people lived, but there were a lot of lamps here at the cemetery, and tonight they were all lit.

Considering everyone had been at the Faire, and Jarrett was the first to leave, and he had just arrived, Heidi had to briefly stop and wonder who had lit them all. A small tingle ran up her spine as if there were something more going on here than she knew.

But the blonde man didn’t linger long at the gates. He pushed inside and Heidi stopped for a moment and stared at the hill in front of her. The hill obviously wasn’t natural, it was tiered, and each of the ten tiers showed row after row of whitewashed crosses, glittering in the lamplight.

“My god.” Peyton whispered. Heidi looked at her.”Well, I mean I knew that a lot of people had died, I just didn’t-I never pictured this.” Heidi hadn’t either. The sheer magnitude of what had happened in Shadowcrest crashed down on her. And this wasn’t even all of them. The inclusion of only the white crosses more than likely meant that those who were buried here were commoners.

Also, from what Heidi had heard, a lot of times the last person in a family to die was just shut up in their house and the house lit on fire, the home becoming a pyre. She felt staggered.

Jarrett had set a satchel on the ground and took out a few candles also a bouquet of red roses and a pair of patchwork bears. The bouquet went in front of the center cross, the pink bear to the left, the blue to the right.

“He had a little boy.” Sawyer had said. “And a little girl.” Heidi felt her eyes close against the sting of sudden tears.

“Well, Rosie, I finished your bear, ’twasn’t easy, what with the harvest come an’ all, but I made it. Plus I hurt my arm a while back an’ this doctor, she tole’ me to take it easy. Not that I listened-not at first anyway, but then she took your old pa and turned him over her knee like I’da done to you or to Frankie had you done wrong, and paddled me! So I figured, easy mighta been the way to go there after. You’da liked this doctor.” His words carried on the wind, down the hill, suddenly standing there watching him, was very painful.

He really had been going to visit his family. He sat on the grass, clipped short where it was grown longer around those three wooden crosses and talked to them. When the blue bear started to slip to one side, he reached out and righted it once more.

“C’mon.” Heidi whispered to Jolene. Peyton had already wandered off toward the pond that was across the stone street from the cemetery and was skipping stones on it. The two of them wandered up toward the top tier, sadness, seeming in waves, radiated off the very ground around them.

She guessed that, given the name of the hill, the statue at the top had something to do with it. At the base of the statue were candles that seemed very steady considering how the wind blew at them. Heidi stared for a moment at the cross of planted flowers, then looked down the hill.

“What’s wrong?” Jolene asked. “You look white as a-a sheet.” The stammer clued Heidi to the fact that that was not her first choice.

“I dunno, it just feels-weird here.” Heidi murmured.

“You’re the one who wanted to come, Jolene pointed out ruthlessly.

“I know, and I’m wondering why. I guess it seems more real now is all. And that’s not a bad thing.”Jolene was silent as they watched the fireflies flicker and beyond that, the candlelight flicker on a solemn face, the only man living among the dead.