The skaters twirlon the ice, some graceful and others fortunate to stay on their feet. Brahm snorts under his breath when a young man lets out an awkward squeal and falls on his tail-end.
We watch people through the carriage window, but I wish we could join them. My dress, however, is not warm enough for winter.
“Is it very sad living in eternal spring?” I ask Brahm, sitting back in the seat. “Do you ever wish you experienced all the seasons in Faerie?”
“I’ve never put much thought into it to be honest.” He smiles, shaking his head before he sits back as well. “But I’m beginning to see its appeal.”
I glance at the packages of supplies next to me in the seat. “You’ve already done so much for me, but I have a request.”
“All right.”
“Will you bring me into Kellington for the holiday? We can walk through the streets and look at the tree when they light it in the main square. I want to see it.” I pause. “With you.”
“Alice…” Brahm says, his face darkening with regret.
“It’s my first year without family around me. I’d like to spend it with a friend. We are friends, aren’t we, Brahm?”
Looking torn, he slowly nods. “We are.”
“So, you’ll do it?”
“I will.”
I smile, looking down.
“I have a request as well. I would like you to complete the portrait by the last day of the month. I don’t want you to begin the new year in Faerie.”
“You’re always so eager to get rid of me.” Though I tease, my stomach gives an unpleasant tug.
“Will you try?” he urges.
“All right.” I gather my courage. “Will you visit me after I go home?”
“I don’t know if that’s a good idea.”
“Will you do it anyway?”
His dark eyes churn with emotion. “If I can.”
Wrinkling my nose, I shake my head. “I don’t like that answer. But I’ll accept it.”
Brahm glances out the window once more. “Are you ready to return?”
After I say I am, Brahm informs Wallen, and the carriage begins down the cobblestone roads, heading toward the river.
“Is the bridge in West Faerie? Or in Valsta?” I ask Brahm as the snow quickly fades. We cross the bridge and end up in spring once more.
He makes a thoughtful noise. “I don’t believe it’s in either. Perhaps you could say it’s neutral territory.”
“Strange.”
When we arrive at the manor, Brahm excuses Wallen and helps me with my supplies himself. Gathering the packages in our arms, we head inside, laughing as we try to balance everything.
“Isn’t this domestic?” a man says when we step into the foyer, startling me so badly I nearly drop my parcels.
Ian leans against the wall, focusing on us a little too intently.
“I see you’re visiting again,” Brahm says tonelessly.