Page 48 of Haunted Hearts

“You realize that if Blaze breaks the betrothal, word will get out that he doesn’t honor his agreements,” said Minerva. “And once the earl hears this, my son will never be considered for knighthood. All Blaze has ever wanted was to follow in his father’s footsteps.”

“I know,” said Lillith, feeling really bad now about the way she’d reacted. “The feud will also continue, and I want nothing more than for it to end.”

“If it continues, I’ll be sent away again.” Minerva snapped closed the lid of her sewing box. “We need to change Blaze’s mind quickly. Help me blow out these candles. We have to find him and stop him from making a big mistake.”

* * *

“Put those boxes of turnips over here,” instructed Blaze, pointing to one of the trestle tables in the great hall. The servants all gathered around with their children near the table. Blaze had warriors and servants living at the manor, but no knights or nobles. Most of them had all left after the feud started or when his father died. Therefore, Blaze catered to the servants and their families, and also the villagers, wanting them to have what they normally wouldn’t be allowed to have or do.

“Children, gather around,” said Minerva, swooping into the room, commanding attention the way she always did. “We’re going to hollow out the turnips and carve faces into them.”

Blaze turned to look at her and saw Lillith right behind her. They were both wearing gowns that matched. The only difference was the big bow on Lillith’s curvy backside. He groaned. While Lillith looked beautiful dressed this way, Blaze wasn’t sure he liked the fact she looked like his mother. Or a witch.

“Oh, I want to carve a turnip too,” said Serena from the other side of the table. “But I want to make a handsome face in it, not a scary one.”

“Go ahead,” said Blaze, glad the girl was actually smiling instead of looking scared to death of him.

“These are some of the biggest turnips I’ve ever seen.” Serena picked one up to inspect it. “Posy, help me choose. I want the best one.”

“Aye, my lady,” said the handmaid, trying to swish Minerva’s fat black cat away as it hopped up to the table and started slinking around, rubbing up against the vegetables.

“Why do we do carve turnips?” asked a little girl, tugging on Blaze’s tunic, looking up to him with wide eyes.

Blaze’s eyes shot over to his mother. He wasn’t sure he wanted to explain this.

“Go ahead, son. Tell her the tradition,” said Minerva. “She’s too young to even know about it.”

“Well,” said Blaze, clearing his throat. “After the turnips are hollowed out, scary faces are carved into them. On All Hallows’ Eve, candles are put inside the turnips and lit. Then they are placed on windowsills and doorsteps.”

“Why?” asked the little girl, not letting up with her questions.

“It’s to . . . it’s to . . .”

“It’s to ward away the evil spirits that might come through the thinning veil from the land of the dead,” came a sweet voice from behind him.

Blaze turned to see Lillith standing there with a smile spread across her face.

“Lilly,” said Blaze in a mere whisper. “You look . . . nice.” She looked beautiful as always and he didn’t have the heart to say she looked like a witch.

“I’m here to help in planning and carrying out the festivities,” said Lillith.“After all, All Hallows’ Eve is tomorrow and we have so much to do to get ready.”

Blaze frowned. “You won’t be here so what does it matter? I told you, I’m sending you and your sister back home. I think you should both get packing right now. I’ll send for my scribe to write the missive, breaking off the betrothal.”

“Blaze, you are not breaking this alliance!” scolded his mother as the crowd busied themselves choosing turnips to carve. Her hands went to her waist.

“This is none of your business, Mother. Now, stay out of it.”

“It is my business because it will affect everyone and everything, not just you. Don’t you see if you call off the wedding, it is going to cause a lot of trouble?”

He looked over to Lillith, thinking about what had transpired up on the hill. All he could think about was how upset and sad she was by this betrothal. He didn’t want her to be sad. She deserved happiness in life more than anyone.

“I’m sorry,” said Blaze. “I just can’t go through with it. No matter what the consequences.”

“Then for heaven’s sake, at least wait until after Samhain,” spat Minerva.

“Mother!”

“All Hallows’ Eve,” she corrected herself. “The cooks have been busy all day baking soul cakes, and the children are so excited to be celebrating again. You have let the manor fall into disrepair, and you haven’t seen to the needs of your people for the last five years. You are not acting at all like a lord.”