Her gaze flew to mine. She seemed to lock up as if my words startled her. At first, I wasn’t sure what I’d said to cause such a reaction, but then I thought about what I knew of her. Other than perhaps Tawny, those who spent time with her did so because it was their duty. Even Vikter, to some extent. Even me.
Fuck. That sat like a boulder on my chest.
Poppy brought her hand to mine but then stopped short. “If someone saw me,” she said. “Saw you—”
“Saw us? Holding hands? Dear gods, the scandal.” I grinned, looking around. “No one is here. Unless you see people I can’t.”
“Yes, I see the spirits of those who’ve made bad life choices,” she replied dryly.
I laughed. “I doubt anyone will recognize us in the courtyard. Not with both of us masked, and just the moonlight and a few lamps to light the way.” I wiggled my fingers. “Besides, I have a feeling anyone out there will be too busy to care.”
Poppy placed her hand in mine. “You’re such a bad influence.”
She had no idea.
I folded my hand around hers. The back of my neck tightened. “Only the bad can be influenced, Princess.”
THE WILLOW
“That sounds like faulty logic to me,” Poppy commented.
I laughed, leading her toward the cooler air of the outdoors. “My logic is never faulty.”
That got me a slight smile. “I feel like that’s not something one would be aware of if it was.”
But in the lantern light, the small grin faded too quickly as she glanced around the garden and the breeze rattled the bushes crowding the walkway. Her steps slowed. Even without my senses, I knew she practically hummed with anxiety.
Seeking to distract her, I spoke the first thing that came to mind. “One of the last places I saw my brother was a favorite place of mine.”
Her attention darted from the darkened pathways that neither the lanterns nor the moonlight penetrated. Wide eyes met mine.
I tightened my hand around hers, but her fingers remained straight. I held her hand. She wasn’t holding mine. “Back home, there are hidden caverns that very few people know about. You have to walk pretty far in this one particular tunnel. It’s tight and dark. Not a lot of people are willing to follow it to find what awaits at the end.”
“But you and your brother did?” she asked.
“My brother, a friend of ours, and I did when we were young and had more bravery than common sense.” My brows knitted. “But I’m glad we did because at the end of the tunnels, was this huge cavern filled with the bluest, bubbling, warm water I’d ever seen.”
She glanced to our left, where the low murmur of conversation seeped out from the darkness. “Like a hot spring?”
“Yes, and no. The water back home… There’s really no comparison.”
“Where are—？” Her head swiveled to the right at the sound of a soft moan. I grinned as she swallowed. “Where…where are you from?”
“A little village I’m sure you’ve never heard of,” I said, squeezing her hand. Her fingers remained straight. “We’d sneak off to the cavern every chance we got. The three of us. It was like our own little world.” A wistfulness I hadn’t felt in a long time filled me as I spotted the marble and limestone fountain sculpted in the likeness of the veiled Maiden. Water tumbled from the pitcher she held, spilling into the basin at her feet. “And at the time, there were a lot of things happening—things that were too adult and grown-up for us to understand then. We needed that escape, where we could go and not worry about what could be stressing our parents, and fretting over all the whispered conversations we didn’t quite understand. We knew enough to know they were a harbinger of something bad. It was our haven.”
I stopped at the fountain and faced her. “Much like this garden was yours. I lost both of them. My brother when we were younger, and then my best friend a few years after that,” I told her, which was only partially true. I lost both of them at once. One because of my foolishness. One at my hands. “The place that was once filled with happiness and adventure had turned into a graveyard of memories. I couldn’t even think about going back there without them.” A slight tremor went through my arm as the knot of sorrow and bitterness loosened. “It was like the place became haunted.”
“I understand,” she said, looking up at me with clear eyes. “I keep looking around, thinking that the garden should look different. Assuming there’d be a visible change to represent how it now feels to me.”
I cleared my throat. “But it is the same, isn’t it?”
Poppy nodded.
“It took me a very long time to work up the nerve to go back to the cavern. I felt that way, too.” I hadn’t gone back alone. Kieran was there. I didn’t think I would’ve been able to go myself. “Like the water surely must’ve turned muddy in my absence, dirty and cold. But it wasn’t. It was still as calm, blue, and warm as it always was.”
“Did you replace the sad memories with happy ones?” Poppy asked.
I shook my head. “Haven’t gotten a chance, but I plan to.” I told her yet another lie. I doubted that was something I would achieve. And honest to gods, I didn’t think I deserved to.
“I hope you do.” She said it so earnestly. And, gods, that was a punch to the gut as I watched the breeze play with the strands of her hair, tossing them across her shoulder and chest. “I’m sorry about your brother and friend.”
Yeah, I really didn’t deserve that.
“Thank you.” I looked up at the star-riddled night sky. I knew I was a monster. But I also knew I wasn’t the only monster here. “I know it’s not like what happened here, to Rylan, but I do understand how it feels.”
“Sometimes, I think…I think it’s a blessing that I was young when Ian and I lost our parents,” she said after a moment. “My memories of them are faint, and because of that, there’s this…I don’t know, level of detachment? As wrong as this will sound, I’m lucky in a way. It makes dealing with the loss easier because it’s almost as if they’re not real. It’s not like that for Ian. He has a lot more memories than I do.”
“It’s not wrong, Princess. I think it’s just the way the mind and heart work,” I said. “You haven’t seen your brother at all since he left for the capital?”
Poppy shook her head as she stared at my hand holding hers. “He writes as often as he can. Usually, once a month, but I haven’t seen him since the morning he left.” Slowly, she curled her fingers around mine, and fuck, that surge of triumph came again. I wasn’t only holding her hand any longer. “I miss him.” She lifted her chin, her gaze finding mine. “I’m sure you miss your brother, and I hope…I hope you see him again.”
Fuck.
That was said as earnestly as her earlier words. I started to tell her that I would, but damn, it felt all kinds of wrong to tell her that.
The breeze caught another strand of her hair. I snagged the curl, the backs of my knuckles grazing the bare skin just below her throat. A tremor went through the hand I held. Her scent thickened, her body eagerly responding to that barely there touch.