Page 93 of Salt Between the Wolves

Maelin looked toward the glowing windows, toward the life she had built there and everything she now stood to risk.

“Yes,” she said quietly. “At least, I’ve always tried to make it one.”

Together they continued down the road toward the lights, and for the first time in a very long while, Eira felt something that resembled hope.

By the time they reached the estate, darkness had settled fully across the countryside.

The last traces of daylight lingered only along the western horizon, where a narrow band of fading gold separated the snow-covered hills from the deepening night. Ahead of them, warm light spilled from dozens of windows, turning the estate into a small island of amber and gold amid the winter darkness.

What had seemed merely welcoming from a distance felt vibrant and alive once they drew closer.

Smoke rose from chimneys into the cold evening air while stable hands moved between buildings carrying lanterns. Somewhere beyond the main house a dog barked before being silenced by a familiar voice, and the scent of woodsmoke, horses, and supper drifted across the yard on the wind.

For a brief moment, Eira simply sat in her saddle and watched.

The place felt nothing like Ironfang, where towering walls, patrolling guards, and an ever-present sense of vigilance shaped every aspect of daily life.

The estate had been built for generations to live within it rather than for soldiers to defend. Stone foundations supported broad timber structures whose windows glowed warmly against the darkness, while smaller outbuildings clustered around the main house in a pattern that had likely evolved over decades rather than according to any military design.

What surprised her most were the sounds of ordinary life: voices, laughter, and the familiar noise of people bringing their day to an end.

The realization settled unexpectedly inside her, and she found herself unable to remember the last time she had seen a place where life seemed more important than survival.

Beside her, Maelin's horse slowed.

The change was subtle, marked only by a tightening of the reins and a slight shift in posture, yet Eira noticed it immediately.

The ease that had accompanied their journey from the tower had vanished, and her sister's gaze moved across the estate, lingering briefly on the stable yard before settling on the illuminated windows of the main house as though she were calculating possibilities and weighing consequences.

The sight made Eira's stomach tighten.

"You haven't told him."

It wasn't a question.

Maelin remained silent for a moment before letting out a quiet sigh.

"No."

The answer came softly.

Eira looked toward the house.

"He doesn't know I'm here."

"No."

The second answer sounded even less comfortable than the first.

For several moments neither of them spoke while the estate carried on around them as though nothing unusual was happening. A pair of servants crossed the yard carrying baskets, someone laughed near the stables, and light flickered behind curtained windows.

Everything looked painfully normal.

"Maelin."

Her sister closed her eyes briefly.

"I know."