Her thoughts were scattered on the margins, like echoes of her voice. I thumbed through the book, listening to her, until a purple, spindle-like flower made me stop.
Purple Hyacinth—a symbol of sorrow and regret. I rubbed the centre of my chest trying to ease the sudden tightness I felt.
Why did Hudson Lamont have my mum’s book?
“Elodie?”
I slammed the book closed just as Myra appeared around the corner, her melted caramel curls bouncing as she stopped in the centre of the maze.
“There you are!” Her sister wasn’t far behind. “We have been looking for you!”
“You have?” I asked, sliding the book back into what was left of the wrapping paper.
“Our teacher cancelled today’s lecture. Would you care to join us?”
I stood, pulling my sweater tighter around me to protect myself from the cooling wind. “Join you where?” I asked, and the twins shared a mischievous look that promised nothing but trouble.
I followedthe scent of hay as I cut through the garden. After Cecily threatened to recite the entirety ofWuthering Heightsin a South Welsh accent, I agreed to join them.
At least this way I was getting some fresh air. I’d lived between the bricks of the city for so long I’d forgotten how nurturing nature could be. My lungs filled with brisk air, the fallen leaves slick beneath my boots as I walked slowly, taking in the lush greenery.
From the vale stretching below, to the hill covered in red leaves upon which the manor stood, to the dark edge of the surrounding forest. If I believed in things like this, I would’ve said it was like the whole land got touched by something otherworldly.
I passed a glass greenhouse almost completely hidden by ivy before I spotted the white gate Myra had described in the maze. They went ahead, and I walked up to my new room to leave my mum’s book on the nightstand. The gate waited wide open between two bushes, as clear an invitation as any. I stepped through, following the dirt path until bricked stables came into view.
The closer I walked to the building, the smaller I felt, and by the time I reached the threshold, it loomed over me like a sleeping beast. I pushed the heavy door open just as a horse neighed—high-pitched, then dramatically low—before it stomped in place. Its gaze met mine, dark as dusk, its coat like it had been woven from the black heavens. It stomped again, hooves dashing against the ground.
“Dee!” Cecily’s voice reached me, dragging my attention away from the animal.
The twins were at the far end of the stables, standing by two other giants. Myra was securing a saddle onto a brown mare, while Cecily gently stroked a grey horse’s muzzle. I couldn’t help but wonder what it must have been like to grow up with a sister—never being alone, always having someone to talk to. To share the weight of grief with someone. I’d never wished for siblings before, but now, a hollow ache bloomed behind my ribs.
“I see you met Lilith.” Myra grinned, and I glanced back at the black horse—Lilith—who raised her head and met my gaze. “Come, let me introduce you to Acorn and Ghost,” she added, motioning me closer.
The cool, crisp air mingled with the earthy scent of hay and animal dander as I moved deeper into the stable. The grey horse’s nostrils flared, its muzzle wrinkling as its ears pinned back. I froze. I wasn’t much of an animal person, and getting kicked by a horse would only reinforce that.
“It’s okay,” Myra’s voice stayed calm. “They can sense you’re nervous.”
Cecily’s brows knit, and her grey eyes studied me. “They do the same thing when Lilian’s around. Maybe it’s something in your blood.” My eyes narrowed at her whisper, before laughter spilled from her lips.
But what she said lingered behind.Something in my blood.For a fleeting moment I was seven years old, afraid of my own shadow. I fought the urge to walk away, back into the manor, and instead I glanced at Lilith again. She was the first animal who seemed somewhat calm in my presence.
“It’s okay,” Myra said, guiding my attention back to them. “Acorn is smart, he knows he can trust you.” She gently rubbed the brown mare’s nose.
I remained rooted to my spot while Cecily released her horse—Ghost, I assumed—and handed me a helmet.
“Would you like me to help you get her ready?” she asked and my brows furrowed. Then she pointed behind me. “Lilith.”
I turned to look at the black horse whose head was poking out of its stall.
“I’m not riding,” I said, shaking my head, and Cecily’s rosy lips turned downwards.
“You aren’t?” Myra asked, surprised.
“I’ve never ridden before,” I admitted. “I don’t think this is the right time to start.”
That was a lie. No time would ever feel right. Getting on the back of that muscle-bound beast looked just as scary as sitting on a rollercoaster without the safety belt on. I preferred my feet on solid ground, where I only had to trust myself with my own life.
Lilith, as if reading my mind, flicked her tail and turned her back to us.
