Red’s own tasted like ashes. She set her plate aside.
Arick rested a steadying hand on Neve’s knee, just for a moment. “Tell us about it, then, if it’s not so terrible after all.” Candlelight gleamed over his teeth. “Is it less frightening, once the Wilderwood has you?”
More. But Red couldn’t say that, not with Neve right there. Neve, scared and trying to help, even though her help only whetted a blade.
And something about the question seemed strange. Leading.
“It’s always twilight.” She let her voice slip to storybook cadences— tell the beauty, take out the teeth. “The walls of the Keep have moss on them. There are trees big as houses. And fog, always fog.”
Neve watched her through wide, dark eyes. A bittersweet shard of memory, the two of them as children listening in rapt attention to a tale of the Wilderwood, illustrated on window glass. Something contracted in Red’s chest.
“And what’s he like?” Arick’s gaze tracked over her cloak, mouth quirking. “It’s unprecedented for a Second Daughter to return. Did you hate each other that much?”
“No.” It cracked out of her, too sharp to be nonchalant.
Arick said nothing, face still shadowed, but she could see his grin. Next to him, Neve’s teeth worked at her lip.
Weariness piled up like stones. Between the wine and her long, strange journey, it was an effort to keep her eyes open. Red couldn’t string together the niceties of excusing herself. “Where would you like me to sleep, Neve? I’m sure my old room is being used for something else.”
“It’s not.” Neve’s eyes were almost shy. “It’s exactly as you left it.”
Red chewed the corner of her lip.
As if it was a cue, Arick stood. “Kiri asked that you meet her at the Shrine, Neve.” A muscle flickered in his jaw, eyes momentarily flinty. “I’ll accompany you, of course.”
Finally. Red straightened expectantly.
“In a moment.” Neve’s gaze flickered to Red, then away, standing with Arick’s proffered hand. “I want to get Red settled first.”
“I’d be happy to go to the Shrine with you.” Too eager— Arick’s face darkened. Red shrugged. “Whatever it is you have to do there. So we can spend some more time together.”
Far from encouraged, Neve’s eyes fluttered closed, a weary blink that sank her shoulders. “No. Not right now.” Straightening, shaking off whatever pall had fallen over her. “Besides, I’m sure you’re exhausted.”
Red knew a lost argument when she saw one. She nodded. “Tomorrow, then.”
A quick glance between the Queen and her Consort Elect. “Tomorrow,” Neve agreed.
Turning, Arick sketched a bow at Red. “Lady Wolf.” Then he was gone, disappeared into the dark maw of the hallway.
Neve led the short way to Red’s room next door. Nothing had changed from the morning Red left. Her nightgown was still crumpled in the corner.
The wood of her old wardrobe was painted white and silver, so different from the scratched thing in the room she shared with Eammon at the Keep. Neve gestured to it. “All your clothes are there. Anything you might need.” She crossed to the corner and picked up the discarded nightgown. “I did have them change the bed linens, at least, so you should be comfortable.”
The air between them felt heavy, like something waited in it. “I was telling the truth, Neve,” Red finally said, standing awkwardly in the center of the room that no longer felt like hers. “I came back to Valleyda because I wanted to see you.”
Neve made a mirthless sound. “You say it like it’s some great journey rather than just returning home.”
“This isn’t home anymore.”
The nightgown in Neve’s hands fluttered, the only tell of the tremble in her hands. “I see.” There were layers to her voice, a depth the two words didn’t properly illuminate. But when her eyes rose to Red’s, the shine in them was determination, not tears. She handed over the nightgown. “I’ll see you in the morning. We can go to the Shrine then.”
Neve nearly fled the room, skirts flashing around the doorframe. Red stood alone in Valleyda for the first time since she’d returned, and the air itself felt unfriendly.
The nightgown fit perfectly, but the fabric itched. Her bed smelled like roses, so different from the coffee-and-leaves scent she was used to now. Red was a warped puzzle piece, her changes nearly too subtle to see, but enough to keep her from fitting back into the place she’d left.