The cruelty of the curse mocked me. Even as I held him, it would tear us apart come dawn, despite how tightly I held him. And a part of me yearned to test it, to see if I could keep him here despite the power of the queen’s dark magic.
Exhaustion must have dragged me under. When I woke, Hadrien was gone. Claimed by the stone curse.
I lay there in his bed, the sheets now cold without him, but his scent lingered. I remained there as long as I could, until I had to get ready for the journey home.
While I drank hot tea with aromatic bergamot, Genevieve prepared a hearty bowl of oatmeal, its cinnamon and nutmeg scent wafting over from the stovetop. She chopped up apples and walnuts. “To prepare you for your journey,” she said in a motherly tone. “I also packed a bag of baked goods and fruit.”
“Thank you, Genevieve,” I said with a smile, trying to erase any melancholy from my tone.
Her eyes turned shiny and she wiped them, as if pretending to rub away a piece of dust. “It’s not goodbye,” she said. “You said you’d be back. So we’re not saying goodbye.”
“Right,” I agreed, my throat tightening as a lump formed. My smile faltered. “Take care of him,” I added, just above a whisper.
She closed her eyes and nodded. When she reopened them, she forced a smile. “Come back to us soon.”
I swallowed over the lump. “As soon as I can.”
Once I’d packed my bag, Victor met me at the front door. He gave me a half-smile. “Safe travels, Lilia.”
“Thank you, Victor.” I tilted my head and grinned. “Take care of the garden.” Wagging a finger, I added playfully, “I don’t want to come back to find all the plants I’d nourished withering.”
He chuckled. “I’ll do my best.”
I picked up my bag and hesitated at the door, then forced myself to push it open. As I stepped out into the sunlight, I felthis gaze on me. I took a deep breath as I walked, bracing myself to turn.
I looked up, shielding my eyes with my hand against the bright morning rays. There he was towering high above the castle, his stone silhouette encased by the bright glow of the sun.
I sucked in a breath, marveling at the beauty and cruelty of it all and found my hand had traveled to my heart. Slowly, I raised it in a small wave, waiting for several seconds as if he’d respond. Of course he wouldn’t.
Feeling foolish, I turned and headed for the path into the forest. The path that we’d taken several times, first with an uneasy wariness of each other and gradually with more trust over just a short time, more closeness, until we’d walked hand-in-hand on our nightly journeys to seal the wards. A weight settled on my shoulders as I walked away, as if I was carrying his stone-cursed wings, knowing this might be the last time before the stone finally claimed him.
Emotions clogged my throat, clawing at my eyes, but I held them back to be strong. I’d been crying too much lately, ever since I’d discovered the poppy and realized what it meant for Hadrien. I only let the tears go when I was alone, but Victor had caught me yesterday and I’d let him believe that I was crying over missing my family. Initially, yes, I’d missed them desperately, fearing for Henri’s outcome, but I’d convinced myself I did the right thing by staying here, to give him the best chance of survival—even if I still didn’t know if it had helped.
I would soon. He’d let me go and I had to go see them, though my heart felt like it was being torn in two directions. That stirred another spike of anxiety. He had to be all right. He had to be. Otherwise, this was all for—nothing.
Before I stepped into La Forêt de Veillepierre, I turned once more. I raised my hand to my lips and blew him a kiss. “Goodbye, Hadrien.”
Then I stepped into the woods, and once shielded under the canopy of the trees, I let my shoulders sag. The familiar scent of dew on fern and damp soil rose. The trees closed in behind me, and the stone of Valgarde disappeared from view. The forest was quiet save for the occasional chirp or crunch beneath my feet. I kept my eyes down, vigilant for any tree roots that could trip me, while the moss and fern crept into the path. With just the light dappling through the breaks in the leaves, the temperature cooled.
No longer having to be brave for anyone watching, I let the tears I’d been holding back go. My sobs echoed through the woods.
The trees began to thin,spreading more sunlight through the gaps above. Soon, the break in the forest came into view. I quickened my steps, rushing toward the village. Home.
I hadn’t even been gone for a few weeks, yet it might as well have been years. The bright sun poured through the opening above, and I inhaled the cool air.
Henri and his laugh, the way he said my name. Mom and her gentle strength, being brave for all of us when at times I’d caught her breaking. They were home, they were safe, yet I had to see for sure with my own eyes.
The first familiar rooftop appeared through the branches ahead, spurring my excitement. My fast steps turned into a run. And then our cottage appeared ahead. I was almost out of breath by the time I reached it.
“Mom? Henri?” I pushed the door open.
“Lilia!” My mother pulled me in for a tight embrace before I could say another word. Her warm arms and familiar lavender scent tugged at me, and my eyes teared.
“I’m here,” I croaked out.
“He let you go,” she whispered into my shoulder, holding on to me even more tightly. “He let you go,” she repeated.
“He did,” I managed, but not in the same relieved way she spoke.He let me go.I swallowed and pulled away, managing a tight smile.
