Page 46 of Stolen Threadwitch Bride
My heart soared and I found myself laughing, giddy as I clung to the reins.
We drew to a stop at the lake shore and let our steeds catch their breath. I needed to do the same.
I patted my hind’s neck and whispered the words of praise that Ly had taught me.
The lake’s peace seeped into me, easing my muscles, loosening every joint. “What a beautiful place.”
“I’m sure its Lady thinks so, too.” Shielding her eyes, Sylvie squinted out over it. “Just don’t go swimming in there unless you have an offering for her.”
For three beats, my pulse seemed to pound in slow motion. I blinked from the lake to Sylvie and back again. “Its Lady? As in a Lady of the Lake? One of the sisters?”
“Exactly that.” She signalled for her stag to walk on and we passed under the dappled shade of willow and silver birch.
I’d had no luck in the library, but…
Nothing about my pulse was slow anymore.
There was a Lady of the Lake right on the doorstep. I could come and ask her for my True Name. If that gave me power over myself, maybe I could break the Tithe or simply escape, Tithe be damned.
The gloves sat in my work basket, unfinished. I’d worked on them here and there and noted where purple aconite was just coming into flower. But that was more for the sake of completion than out of a desire to use them on Ly.
I liked him and he hadn’t really done anything wrong other than find himself on the wrong end of an order from his queen. Much as I chafed against being bound to him or this place, at my lack of freedom, I didn’t want to poison him.
But this…
Sylvie gave a running commentary about the trees we passed and the little sprites and other fair folk who lived among them, but I barely heard a word.
MyTrue Name.
That was my chance at freedom. My escape from here.
And maybe part of me liked it here. This place was beautiful, my bed comfortable, and I had every tool and kind of fabric I could ever wish for. And Ly…
But it wasn’t my choice. It wasn’t my life. I was an item in someone else’s bargain, and there had been enough times that I’d had no choice and no power. Never again.
I had no skill with swords, no, but I would fight this.
The Lady of the Lake
It was another couple of weeks before I had the chance to go to the lake alone.
That was a lie.
I had thechance, but… I didn’t take it until the night Ly failed to appear in the workroom after dinner. For days his laughter had grown rarer and his shoulders tighter. The previous night, his story had petered out and he’d stared into the fire in silence for a good long while.
And that night, I sat there, sewing, glancing towards the door at every sound. But he didn’t appear.
Shoulders slumped, I stayed up late, just in case, but… no. The novelty of me had worn off. Or my conversation wasn’t entertaining enough. Or he simply had better things to do.
It cut just as surely as any of those scissors and shears in their beautiful velvet-lined box.
When I went to bed, I couldn’t sleep. So much had happened in the past couple of months, I lay there staring at the ceiling, mind whirring. It was silly to care what Ly thought of me. It was stupid to grow attached to this quiet, orderly house. It was madness to befriend Sylvie and Hil, and more tentatively Sallis and Hobb.
And yet here I was. Silly, stupid, and mad.
In a strange way it was comforting that Boyd remained distant, a wrinkle on his nose every time I entered the room. While it wasn’t normal—nothing about this was—it was the closest thing to what I’d expected from the fae.
I hadn’t seen another human in weeks. I’d written to Rose, but Sylvie and Ly had confirmed it would take some time for the letter to reach her and it was unlikely I’d hear back. It wasn’t as though messengers could pass over the border easily. Those miles of snow we’d ridden through—Ly said they were part of the defences to stop humans and fae alike from crossing the wall whenever they wanted.
