He must not become the heir. I will ensure it.
Chapter Two Aedre
Murwood End
God be praised, it is, at least, a blessedly sunny day. We have so few of them here, even in summer, and the sun is a necessary part of my plan.
“Is that jasper?” Anna, the cobbler’s wife, peers over my shoulder. “Tis a most unusual color, no?”
It is. Which is the precise reason I’ve choosen it.
Whatever she may think, the cobbler’s wife does not need her husband to fall in love with her again. She needs to see herself as Anna, a person whose worth is not dependent on anyone else. I’ve visited her so often, she’s given me three new pairs of shoes as payment, yet she still refuses to heed any of the advice I offer.
My amma says to save the jasper for when I have no other hope for healing. With luck, this will bring Anna some peace.
“Aye, ’tis so for a reason,” I say.
Then, just as the sun hits the deep red stone, faint lines of grey appear. She gasps and leans closer. Clutching the stone to my chest, I mentally recite the words my grandmother taught me.
Spred manns Hoc, fide tum boll. Boll tum fie, Hoc manns Sprend.
I open my hand, the lines now gone. “Take it.”
Anna looks at my hand as if it’s poisoned. A familiar tug in my chest reminds me that even the most ardent supporters of my practice have been taught to mistrust it. But Anna has known me since childhood, and she gingerly takes the stone.
“Hear me, and this shall be our last meeting.”
As always, she glances down the road at the overgrown path that leads away from Murwood End. Her cottage sits on the northernmost edge of the village. Beyond us, the road leads away from the only home I’ve ever known to lands I’ll likely never see, if my father has his way. It is safe for my kind here. For me and Amma, for our ancestors. Not so beyond the Loigh Mountains.
We attend to each other once again.
Taking her hands in mine, I say the words that are more important than any spell.
“You must love yourself above all others. When you can do that, your fate will begin to change course.”
Is she ready to listen to my words?
I’m unsure, so I squeeze her hand shut with the talisman inside. “If you’ve any doubts, put this in the sunlight as I’ve done today. Squeeze it as a reminder of my words, and consider them well.”
She nods with the same solemnity I had when Amma first showed me this spell. I asked Amma, more than once, if it works because of the way the sun strikes the stone, the words I utter or the Garra blood that runs through my veins, but she always answers the same way. Does it truly matter? I suppose it does not, but sometimes, like today, I wish I knew the answer.
“You are not the cobbler’s wife. You are Anna. Daughter of a fierce voyager and the kindest soul in these parts. Aye?”
“Aye,” she whispers.
“’Twas weakly done.”
“Aye,” she says again, but her voice is still not adamant enough for my liking.
“I cannot hear you,” I lie.
“Aye,” she says more loudly this time. For now, I’m satisfied.
I release her hands. “You will have no need of me after today.”
It is more of a hope than a prediction, but it wouldn’t help Anna to tell her so.
“How can I repay you, Lady Aedre?”
I open the door to leave, ignoring her question as I want no more payment. Movement outside catches my attention, and my eyes narrow in disgust. The men are still a ways off, too far for me to count them, but I spy the flag they bear before they dip into the valley, their party no longer visible. To these men, I am mistress and not lady. Southerns have little respect for Garra or the titles bestowed on me and my ancestors. Or so I’ve been told.
“’Twas the Merian king’s flag, was it not?” Anna asks.
“Aye.”
“We should wait inside.” Anna pulls my arm, but I refuse to go back with her.
I will hide from no man, most especially those sent by a king I do not recognize.
“My lady, come inside with me.” She tugs again.
Living at the edge of the village, Anna is rightly leery of strangers. She knows the guardhouse defending our village only offers so much protection. Wayward Highlanders and thieves can easily make their way to Murwood End. But these men are neither.
They are worse.
“Nay.” I disentangle myself from her. “I will not.”
My father’s voice rings in my ears.
Stubborn girl.
I am that, and more.
But then I notice Anna’s expression. She wishes to go inside but feels beholden to stay with me. And so my feeble stand comes to an end. I allow her to push me into the straw-thatched cottage, and despite the warm day, Anna proceeds to close every wooden shutter. After she lights a candle, the modest furnishings once again come into focus. We move toward one of the shutters and wait.
“You have always been so brave, Lady Aedre,” she says softly.
My father would call it something very different.
“Garra have been so for centuries,” I whisper back even though we are very much alone.
“What do you suppose the Garra of Meria are like? Or Edingham?”
I’d not know firsthand as I’ve never left Murwood End. “My grandmother says we are all very much the same, no matter the kingdom. Our goal, to learn and share all we can of love and its healing properties. She also says Garra do not practice openly in the capital.”
“How fares Lady Edrys?”
“She is well.”
When I left, my amma had been perched
