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“The past was too hard to let go of.” Joel’s voice sent a shiver of…of…something foreign down her spine. “My father and I were involved in smuggling people out of Heulwen during Liam’s reign.” She winced at the reminder of her former husband’s cruelty to his people. “Two years after Calle’s supposed death, I met a woman named Genica while smuggling a family out of the city. I took the smuggled citizens to Heulwen’s border, and she and the other rebels transported them the rest of the way.”
His fingers paused on her hair, and she turned slightly to find his gaze faraway, hidden within a haunted expression. When he resumed working with her hair, he said, “We were ambushed by Liam’s men. I survived. She did not.”
Suddenly, her own sorrows paled in comparison to what he must be feeling. Or, at the very least, he understood her. Far more than she realized. “You and your family left Heulwen soon after those two years, I remember.”
“Yes. Liam found out about our activity. Sentenced us all to death. We were forced to flee for our lives.”
More gentle tugging as he did her hair, humming a quiet tune.
Her next question came out as barely a whisper. “Did you love her?”
Silence. And then, “Genica was…everything to me when my world fell apart. But sometimes, getting over the pain of the past is not an easy task.”
She must have imagined the gentle caress on her neck, especially when he stood quickly and handed her cane to her. Her leg ached a little less as she hobbled to her feet and once again faced the mirror.
Only to gasp in surprise.
Her hands flew to the braids looped at the back of her head and the sparkling green jewels embedded in the blonde strands. Although her fingers passed right through the jewels—a convincing illusion—they enhanced her appearance tenfold.
Emotion lodged in her throat as she touched her face, now clear of bruises. She winced when her fingers passed through the illusion but marveled at how much brighter her complexion appeared. The dress now hugged her body like a flattering embrace, though the pins at each shoulder attested to the lack of illusion. She hadn’t even realized he’d pinned the fabric.
She looked…beautiful. Or perhaps…almost so.
“You changed my appearance,” she accused, but Joel shook his head.
“I hid the bruises and added the jewels. The rest is you.” A half, almost timid, smile lifted on his lips as he shrugged and stuffed his hands into his pockets. “You are gorgeous, Nyana. I want you to believe it, too.”
She wanted to. She truly did. But what she felt on the inside did not match her outer appearance. Instead of replying to his comment, she lightly touched the braids again. “When did you learn how to do hair?”
In the mirror, she caught his somber green gaze. “My little sisters needed a mother. Nana can only do so much.”
Dread parted her lips as she slowly turned to face him. “What happened to your mother?”
He swallowed, and a deep pain flashed across his eyes as if she could reach into his soul and pull out inky threads of darkness.
“I cannot…” He took a deep breath and let it out slowly, lowering his gaze to the floor. “I cannot speak of it today. Another day. Just not now.”
A darkness flickered in his soul, filled with unspoken horrors, past pain, and haunted memories. It reflected hers. Nothing she could possibly say could take away his pain, just as he could never take away her pain. But perhaps she could lessen it.
“I’m sorry about Genica.”
“And I’m sorry about Calle.” He shrugged again and finally lifted his gaze. “Neither of our lives has ended up as we’d imagined it. But perhaps we can make something better of it after all. Together.”
Her fingers flitted over the velvety green fabric of the dress. A precious gift. Not one given with strings attached, but rather gifted with kindness. She needed him. Her daughters needed him. What more could she do than to take advantage of his selflessness? What other choice did she have?
Nyana nodded. “I would like that.”
The next half hour became a flurry of activity as they worked together to dress the girls in warm coats and climb into a carriage waiting outside the house. Eva sat huddled into Nyana’s side, sucking her thumb while Maisy spoke animatedly about their passing surroundings from the trees to farm animals to homes and buildings.
Nyana stole a glance at Joel out of the corner of her eye, watching as he reacted enthusiastically to everything her eldest daughter said. The corners of his eyes crinkled with merriment.
She took in his clothing. He usually wore trousers and a tunic, smudged with dirt as if he’d recently dirtied his hands in soil or even climbed a tree. But today, he wore a loose white tunic beneath a ruby red vest. Half of his hair was pulled back, his facial hair trimmed. And then her gaze dipped to the smooth-looking skin of his neck, and then his collar bones visible from the slope of his shirt.
Previously, she had wondered why he hadn’t married. He was a good-looking man with ambition and a good heart. He likely wouldn’t have been here if Genica hadn’t passed.
Nervousness sent her fingers into a flutter of wringing hands to fidgeting with Eva’s hair and clothing. The anticipation crawled through her stomach like a waking bear after a long hibernation and into her heart, where it pounded against her ribcage.
When was the last time she’d been this nervous?
