Hunted(74)
Asenka ignored this, her gaze on her little sister. “You must stay,” she blurted, her normally soft voice peaking with urgency. “I know you planned to stay only one more night, but—Yeva, you have to be at my wedding.”
Yeva glanced from Asenka to Lena, whose wedding she had missed, and her heart ached. That itch in her feet, the hollow in her soul that called for the forest and the valley and the Beast’s song swelled. The animal ferocity of the Beast in her nightmare tugged at her heart. Autumn would soon become winter, and once winter came, it’d be too perilous a journey to attempt in the bitter cold and the waist-deep snow. But, gazing at her sisters, surrounded by her new brothers and the warmth of her old home and the dog at her feet, she found that the music seemed more distant than ever, more like a dream than a memory, and she found herself nodding.
“Of course,” she whispered, and Asenka’s eyes filled. “Of course I’ll stay.”
BEAST
He is gone forever now.
I am the WOLF.
TWENTY-THREE
THOUGH BOTH ASENKA AND her betrothed would have been most pleased with a small ceremony, Solmir’s new status as the baron’s heir required a certain degree of festival when it came to his wedding. Yeva found herself so occupied with preparations that she had little time to think of the Beast, nor his valley and how she could break his curse. There were holly branches to weave into garlands, dishes to arrange for the feast, gowns to fit, dignitaries to greet.
Yeva continued to dream, but each day kept her so busy that the nightmares seemed to vanish like morning mist in the sun. She still had time; the days were long, and though they grew gradually shorter, they hadn’t yet seen the first frost to herald the start of winter. And after her sister was married, she was so exhausted from all the preparations that she convinced herself that she needed rest before she set out. Her sisters said nothing, though she knew it was on Lena’s mind, for her father’s bow had vanished from its corner, no doubt hidden away to avoid reminding Yeva of what she’d intended to do.
Asenka moved into Solmir’s quarters at the baron’s manor, and one week to the very hour after their wedding, the baron died. His funeral was a grand, solemn event, for he’d been a good landowner, and his people had prospered under his guidance. The last of the autumn leaves fell in a sorrowful shower of red and gold as Solmir spoke to the gathering across his predecessor’s coffin. The shower of color reminded Yeva of . . . something. Something she couldn’t quite pin down in her mind.
Though the baron’s young widow made motions to move out of the wing of the manor that had been her home, Asenka wouldn’t hear of it. She insisted that the former baronessa stay, and that as the new baronessa, she only needed a few small rooms for herself. Yeva came daily to visit her sister, and found the baron’s widow often at Asenka’s side, the two of them becoming fast friends. It was after such a visit that Asenka confessed to Yeva that she’d underestimated the baronessa, judging her from Yeva’s descriptions of lavish parties and court gossip, and that the baronessa had done much of the governing while her husband had been ill. She was proving to be a valuable advisor for Solmir, who was considering throwing tradition to the winds and adding her in an official capacity to his council.
Asenka and Solmir set aside a suite of rooms for Yeva, asking her to come live with them, for Asenka had little interest in hunting and Solmir remembered his walks with Yeva as fondly as she did. Now the looming prospect of their marriage was gone, Yeva found her friendship with Solmir to be one of the closest she’d ever known.
Lena insisted that Yeva stay with them, in her old room, and Lena even stopped scolding Yeva for allowing the dogs up onto her bed. She said nothing when the laundrywomen complained of the difficulties of getting dog hair out of the linens.
Radak, surprising Yeva by showing her he knew her at least as well as her sisters did, quietly offered to purchase Yeva her own little cottage by the northern edge of town. It would ordinarily be an act of social suicide for a young, unmarried woman to live alone in her own home, but Yeva was such an odd figure in the town as a result of her time with the Beast that it wouldn’t cause too many ripples.
She’d so longed to come home, but now that she was here, and with a flood of different homes to choose among, Yeva could not banish the twinge of discontent inside her. She no longer dreamed of the Beast, having managed to train herself to wake at the start of the nightmares when they came. But the town had no song, not like the forest or the Beast or his castle. And she was restless.
Lena’s belly grew rounder each week, and Asenka’s happiness was so infectious that Yeva couldn’t bear the thought of leaving them. A few more weeks, she told herself, stubbornly watching the weather and telling herself winter was still far away. She had plenty of time to make it back to the Beast’s valley before the snows came and made travel impossible.
And so Yeva, choosing to remain in her old room in Radak and Lena’s house, threw herself into work. She helped prepare the baby’s room. She went out riding with Solmir. She managed the household staff so Lena could rest. She had Radak teach her how to understand the family’s finances.
Radak had gone on a spree when Lena first accepted his proposal, buying back the things Tvertko’s family had sold to pay their debts. Not all of it had found its way back into daily use. Some of it had been tucked up in the attic crawl space to be dealt with later, but later had never come. There were books, and flatware, and linens, and trunks of old dresses long out of fashion. Yeva decided to sort through it all, keeping what still held meaning for them, and giving away the rest.