AllFreeNovel
Share Us
I tug the laces at my bodice, loosening them some, then fan myself with my hand.
Still, my bones carry the Chill from earlier. My flesh might burn, but my bones are made from frost and ice.
I wish it was wash day, so I could sink into the wooden tub of warm water and really let it seep into my body to heat me up.
The front door swings open and brings in even more heat from the outside with the Warmth swelling out there.
My shoulders tense as I throw a look over my shoulder.
Amelia barrels into the house, her eyes wild, brown hair whipping her reddened cheeks.
“He’s coming,” she breathes, her voice a raspy rush of air. “He’s riding his steed uphill now.”
Movement explodes throughout the house.
Everyone lunges into something. I’m scrambling for the couch, bundling up all my fabrics into my arms. Milan is throwing all the unfinished meals and dirty dishes into a cupboard under the bench. Mother races for the table facing the hearth to wipe it down and set out a platter of fruits and vegetables for the prince to taste. And as I dodge Amelia between the kitchen and the lounge, I notice that she has the full basket of twilight apples looped around her arm—the bounty.
I scurry for the dark, narrow corridor that leads to the three rooms at the back of the farmhouse—the two bedrooms and the washroom. Pausing at the threshold, I throw a look back to check that I haven’t left anything behind. But it looks all clear and, as my mother and sisters finish their scramblings, all starts to appear ready for his visit. All that’s missing is Father, but he’s likely rinsing his dirty hands in the bucket at the front of the house.
I don’t wait around for him.
I rush down the corridor the moment I hear the crunch and clop of the steed’s hooves on the gravel outside.
Booting the bedroom door shut behind me, my breath automatically hitches and I stand there, frozen for a moment. On the other side of the farmhouse, I hear the rush and panic start to settle. Mother’s murmured voice snakes down the corridor. Then silence.
I loosen my breath, long and shaky. Not a second after, the front door rattles with a single, hard knock. The fae prince doesn't wait for anyone to answer, apparently. I hear no movement before the door opens with a creak. There’s a brief pause that floods me with tension, then it’s shattered by the heavy click of expensive boots on cheap wooden floors.
That’s when the murmurs pick up again. Softly spoken voices—one more gravelly than the others; my father, greeting the prince—echo through the house, and I use the noise to muffle my own sounds as I creep to the coarse brown blanket in the corner of the room.
Gently, I set my fabrics down on the foot of the blanket and shift around to sit. For a moment, I just eye the cloth beside the bundle of threads and needles I had already laid out before the Chill.
I should fiddle around with the fabrics, but instead my heart hammers in my chest and my fingers tremble with the presence of the fae prince. So I lie down on my side, curling up into a ball, and clench my eyes shut.
I don’t drift to sleep.
Before I can even get comfortable on the scratchy blanket, another fit throws me forward. I’m at an angle off the blanket, spine twisted, as I hack up nothing but dry air from my coarse, burning throat.
It’s not often that I cough up blood, but whenever my hacking is clear it is still a relief. The only worry that crawls up my bones like the Chill is that beyond the sounds I’m making, I hear nothing from the other side of the farmhouse. It’s dead silent.
Then the thick silence is broken—
The familiar groan of floorboards pulls me upright and I stare at the door, waiting for it to open. Someone is coming down the corridor.
Not a moment later, the door creaks ajar and Mother’s pale face pokes inside.
With a slender hand, she gestures me over to her.
I don’t budge.
Her sigh is tightly wound around tension as she slips inside.
Eyes filled with caution, she mutters to me, “He insists on the whole family to receive him.”
My brow furrows along with my mouth.
He’s never done that before, demanded that we all be in his presence. And it unleashes uneasy ribbons of tension deep in my watery gut.
Tension bolts throughout my body, clamping up each muscle beneath my skin. I shake my head.
