Page 198 of Harbinger

Stepping into my room, I shut the door before I can change my mind.

But Bishop knocks a moment later. I shouldn’t open the door. I should crawl into bed and let sleep drag me away from the hole of self-recrimination I seem determined to dig.

I open it anyway and find him standing there, holding a paper bag.

“You won’t be wanting these, then?” He shakes it, letting the buttery scent of crescent pastries waft toward me.

I snatch it from his hand, and this time I don’t close the door in his face.

THIRTY-FOUR

My ancestors named our estate Journey’s End. I never understood that before today. Probably because I’d never been away from it for this long. It looks exactly like my memory of it. The same low stone walls separate the fields leading to my family’s home, freshly tilled and ready for spring planting. Thin green shoots are already pushing stubbornly through the soil. The same olive trees line the gravel drive. Even the air smells the same. The house’s limestone facade glows in the honey-gold morning light, showcasing every crack and weathered patch. As usual, the shutters need repainting and several of the roof tiles are missing.

But everything has changed.

My siblings are waiting by the door. Well, Andry and Isidore. Broderic is nowhere to be seen. As soon as they spot me, they start to wave. Andry jumps up and down like I might miss him. He looks taller. I wave back, something swelling around my heart, a bubble of joy that feels too fragile to last.

Especially, I suspect, once Bishop arrives.

Convincing him to give me some time alone with my family was damn near impossible. He insisted on a sword as my travel companion for the two-mile trek to my family estate.

At least we can compromise.

I grab the sheathed sword and jump out of the carriage before it’s fully stopped. The driver slows just enough for me to send him back for Bishop at the outpost. The request is barely out of my mouth before both my sister and brother attack me. I only stop hugging them long enough to fasten the baldric over my shoulder.

“Is that real?” Andry gawks at it. Even Isidore’s mouth falls open for a second.

“Can’t be too careful.” I force a smile, feeling a bit silly to be entering my family home armed.

“Awesome!” Andry stares at it longingly.

Since him with a sword is a very bad idea, I change the subject.

“Where’s Broderic?” I glance around like he might jump out from behind a bush.

Isidore sucks air through her teeth. Her hesitation tells me enough.

But Andry kicks a rock with the toe of his boot. “He’s with her,” he says, the final word flat with disapproval.

“Her?” I look at Isidore.

“His fiancée.” She twists her hands together, and suddenly I understand her jitteriness.

For a moment, I can only stare. “He’s getting … married?”

“He proposed at Twelvetide.” She gives me a sad smile. “The wedding is this summer, but she’s already moved into the house.”

He’s given up on Miranda, then. That’s no surprise. But this …

A good match will stabilize the estate. Though I can’t help feeling like I’ve lost my older brother. At least the one who used to climb onto the barn roof with Kieren and me, the one who accidentally burned down that barn when a dare went wrong. The bubble in my chest pops, taking any hope I had with it. I try to keep my disappointment tucked behind a smile as they drag me toward the back entrance. Andry runs ahead, off to get whatever latest obsession he’s dying to show me.

“You already started dinner?” I ask, my stomach growling at the scent of baking bread. There’s a pot simmering on the stove, and for just a moment, I feel like I’m home.

“Not me.”

Before I can ask who, I stop in my tracks, spotting an armed guard in the hall. An ache spreads where the bubble was moments ago. They replaced Kieren. It’s not like my best friend was ever truly our guard, but seeing someone occupying that position …

“Laurel’s personal bodyguard,” Isidore whispers. “Her uncle insisted. Because Damalis is so dangerous.”