Kit
Almost a week later, I finally coaxed Penny back to the forge. He was as skittish about the fire and heat as he’d been at the beginning, but the boredom of spending days at home alone overrode enough of his discomfort to get him back at his leatherworking table.
It was a relief to have him there again, even if he wasn’t as chatty as usual. I no longer enjoyed solitary days working over the coals. Penny had ruined that for me months ago.
It was almost lunchtime when one of the faceless messengers arrived to advise us that the fifth Oath had been assigned, and that we would be expected to leave the next morning. He handed over a map and a letter sealed with red wax detailing what we would be expected to do.
I didn’t wait for privacy to tear the letter open and read the scrawled text inside. Penny rose from his stool and came over to read around my shoulder, carefully keeping me between himself and the coals.
This venture out of town would take us to a nearby farming community. We were to obtain a crate of rats from the Ossuary and ferry the vermin to one of the many properties in ourassigned village, where we would set them loose in a barn or granary. I heard Penny’s breath catch when he got to that part, and I wished I could take his hand.
So many of the Oaths were unavoidable, but this one had blessedly little oversight. Without Anders there, the only eyes on us would be Eeus’. I was already concocting a plan before I consulted the attached map and noticed another town near our prescribed destination. A different location entirely. A polite refusal of the orders we’d been given.
The messenger was turning to go when I thought to ask why this Oath was happening so soon after the last one.
I couldn’t see the hooded figure’s face, but the drone of his voice made me infer his weary expression. “Changes were made to accommodate the pair of you. The Right Hand said something about you being needed for spring planting?”
Penny hummed assent, and I nodded.
The messenger left before I could come up with any more questions. I turned to Penny, who was standing so close we were almost touching. He looked like he was going to be sick.
“Why don’t you head to Rosie’s?”
He perked at the suggestion, and I eased into a smile.
“I’m sure she’ll need help getting things prepped ahead of leaving tomorrow. I can duck out of here a little early and get our things packed.”
“You’re sure?” he asked, though he was already halfway out the door.
“Positive. Go.” I snagged his sleeve before he could pass from under the canopy and pulled him in for a parting kiss. Since I didn’t doubt that Anders had told Merrick about Penny and me, there was no point in trying to keep out of sight anymore.
Penny stood stunned as I tucked his hair behind his ear, then pulled up his hood.
“I’ll try to have dinner ready for when you get back,” I told him. “Maybe you can bring some fresh bread to go with it.”
A grin split his face, and he darted in for another quick kiss before he ducked out and scurried away through the square.
Once he disappeared around a corner, I dug into the pocket of my apron and unearthed the coil of leather I’d hidden there, wrapped in a clean rag. I hadn’t been idle in the week without Penny in the forge. Between orders, I scoured the leather at Penny’s worktable for the nicest pieces and carefully cut thin strips of four of them. Tooling on such a small surface proved difficult and frustrating, but I managed. And once they were complete, I spent an afternoon braiding them together into a round cord long enough to loop around my own wrist at least twice.
I’d initially planned to leave it tucked away until we left Ashpoint for spring planting, but I was too impatient for that. Our unexpected trip out of town would afford me an even better opportunity to present it to Penny. Something more memorable. Something just for the two of us.
I tucked the cord into my pocket, then worked another hour before calling it a day. When everything was closed up, I stopped at the stables to talk to Thoma. I apologized for my outburst at dinner—which he waved off as unnecessary because he thought it was warranted—and asked if he would watch the kittens for us again while we were gone. Once I promised him that we would for sure be coming back this time, he was happy to agree.
On my way home, I made another stop. I had more than one reason for sending Penny to Rosie’s for the afternoon. It made a convenient excuse for me to fetch the goods I’d ordered after our return from Wendwood. That two-day trek in the snow and Penny’s lengthy recovery afterward still haunted me. While I’d assured him his health or infirmities had no bearing on my care for him, that wasn’t entirely true; it made me caremore.Or be more careful. Seeing him suffer pained me, so I’d taken measures to ensure any future ventures in the cold would not end with him in bed for days.
Fortunately, the tailor had worked quickly to craft the fur-lined cloak and gloves, and she had just enough time to finish off the thick pair of wool stockings to go along with them. The garments warmed my arms and chest as I hugged them against me on the walk back to the house. They would be a nice surprise when Penny got home, and I could already picture the cloak’s rabbit hair collar snugged up beneath his shaggy blond hair.
I arrived home and got the cook stove going and soup simmering. I was heading to our room to pack when a knock at the door made me double back. At the threat of company, Ember leaped from her perch on my shoulder and retreated into the shadows of the hall.
I half expected Thoma, but it was Violette on the front stoop, arms around herself and head down. Her coppery hair draped over her shoulder in a messy braid. When she tipped her face up to the waning light of near dusk, her eyes and nose were red like she’d been crying, and a bruise looked to be forming over her left cheekbone.
She didn’t wait for a greeting before grabbing the front of my shirt and pulling herself in flush against me.
“Thank the gods you’re here,” she said, her voice shaking. “Are you alone?”
My reaction to having her so close was visceral, and I almost shoved her into the snow. I had to force several measured breaths through my lungs before I could respond without giving it away.
“Yes. Why?”
