“I am,” Hadria said, though her voice dipped. “But I really wanted my mother’s gold ring. My nurse couldn’t find it. She said it wasn’t where she remembered, and she couldn’t risk searching too long.”
Dragonfly glanced at the bracelet again, but her mind was elsewhere. Her heart still hadn’t settled. Hadria’s glittering childhood heirlooms felt like a story from another life—a memory beautiful and untouchable. She forced herself to stay present, but her gaze drifted toward the doorway, her thoughts already tugging back to the fire pit.
Voices echoed from the front room—lively, overlapping, full of motion. Hadria swept her treasures off the bed with a practiced hand. “You’d better go greet your guests. I’ll put these away and be out in a minute.”
Dragonfly stepped into the hallway, her pulse quickening with the shift in energy.
Nic stood in the sitting room, dressed sharply in a crisp linen shirt and dark grey waistcoat, a bouquet of wild white roses in one hand and his other arm slung casually around Helen’s waist. Helen wore a light cream dress cinched with a pale pink sash, her ribbon-matched hair swept up loosely. The two of themlooked like a painting—golden and self-assured and perfectly in sync.
Dragonfly forced her smile wide as Helen embraced her warmly.
“I’m glad to see you both,” she said, meaning it, even if her nerves hummed beneath the surface.
“Uriah and River send their best,” Nic said, handing over the flowers. “Uriah’s grounded again, and River’s stuck at the hospital. And these”—he wiggled the bouquet for emphasis—“are for you. Happy birthday.”
The white roses were simple but lovely, tied with a ribbon that shimmered faintly in the light. “They’re beautiful,” she said. “Thank you.”
And it was true—Nic and Helen’s bright energy, their easy affection—it filled the house quickly, pushing out the heaviness in her chest.
A few minutes later, Aries came tromping through the yard, and Nic made his escape outside to join him. Dragonfly sat with the girls in the front room, sipping tea and nibbling on the sweets Hadria had prepared. Their conversation drifted easily between gardens and dance classes, the soft murmur of their voices blending with the rattle of silverware and clinking glasses.
But through the window, the world outside was a different rhythm entirely. The boys were shouting, laughing, leaping like dogs after birds. Collin stood by the fire pit, flipping fish on the grill with one hand while swinging the iron poker in the other, laughing at something Nic had said. Aries plucked feathers from a half-dressed pheasant, and beside it on the butchering slab lay a plump rabbit waiting its turn.
When Nic rolled up his sleeves and headed for the butcher’s block with a knife in hand, Helen bolted out of her chair.
“Nic!” she shouted, nearly halfway out the window, bracing herself on the sill. “Don’t youdareruin that shirt!”
He paused mid-step, looking down at himself, then at the rabbit. His friends jeered in the background, and for a heartbeat it wasn’t clear which way he’d go—pride or self-preservation.
Hadria, barely hiding her grin, waved the frilly apron in his direction.
Nic stood frozen just long enough to make a show of it. Then, with great melodrama, he stomped to the window and let Helen pull the apron over his head, turning so she could tie the back.
When he spun to face her again, his grin was roguish. “You’re going to owe me for this,Helen,” he said, and planted a kiss on her that made even Hadria blush.
Helen settled back into her chair, cheeks flushed, pretending not to smile.
Dragonfly watched her from across the room, a tide quiet and aching rising up inside her.
Hadria’s words came back unbidden.Collin is in love with you.What would it feel like to belong to someone like that? To be gathered into his arms, no explanations needed? To lean into warmth, into care, just because it was there?
Her tea had gone cold in her hands.
Maybe it was only infatuation. But still—what if? What if she and Collin could share that kind of ease, that kind of certainty? Would she let him touch her like that, tease her like that, hold her in the middle of a crowd like there was no one else?
The questions raced faster than answers, bright and frightening all at once.
Dragonfly’s thoughts snapped back when Hadria leaned in and whispered, “What did he mean byyou’d owe him?”
Helen’s blush deepened, glowing down to her collarbone. “He’s just being Nic,” she said, fiddling with the sash at her waist.
Hadria tilted her head, eyes sparkling with mischief. “Have you two...?”
Helen shot a glance toward the window. The boys were still roaring with laughter over something Aries had said, Collin crouched low by the fire, clutching his stomach.
“No,” she murmured. “I’m not ready yet. Have you?”
“Goodness, no,” Hadria said quickly. “I’m not ready either.”
