BRAHM
Every time I look at Alice, I remember the flash of fire in Sabine’s eyes when she vowed to protect me at the cost of anyone and everyone. This must end—it shouldn’t have started.
I should have sent Alice away in the very beginning, escorted her to the bridge and never looked back. She would have found someone to take her in—someone suitable, a man who could have given her a future.
It’s difficult to believe we met only a little over a month ago. If I could turn back the hands of time… But, alas, that is not one of our gifts. No one needs that kind of power—we already possess too much.
Alice and I stand side by side, watching men climb wooden ladders to light the candles on the large tree they’ve brought into the square. There are hundreds of people around us, all bundled up in heavy cloaks, scarves, and hats, happily braving the cold for the sake of tradition.
We have traditions in Faerie as well, but they’re different. They’re based on revelry, and this is not. Year’s End is about family, community, and honest, heartfelt thanksgiving.
Around me, the humans are grateful for the year they were given, and they rejoice in the possibilities of the next.
Nearby, a man lifts his young son onto his shoulders to give him a better view of the candle lighting. The boy laughs, and the mother looks at the pair with an expression that makes me wish, for the first time in my existence, that I was human.
I glance at Alice, feeling more conflicted than I’ve ever been. Could I walk away from my life in Faerie and stay? Could we live here, together, away from the wicked queen, away from the memories and the scars? Would Alice truly want me?
Immediately, I dismiss the idea. Though Alice is safe from my mother’s manipulations and wrath here in human territory, I am not. I am a citizen of Faerie. It’s my lineage and my life. I have a duty to it, to my family, and to the people I save each night in the woods.
Knowing we must part soon, hating that night has already stolen the day, I savor this last gift of time.
But too soon, the lighting is over. The crowds begin to part. Many people cast me curious looks as they return to their homes with their loved ones. They know what I am, and some may even recognize me as Lord Ambrose.
“What comes next?” I ask Alice, crossing my arms to keep from reaching for her in the crowd.
“There is nothing else,” she says quietly.
We linger until the square is nearly empty. Soon, I imagine they’ll begin to snuff out the candles—a sad thought. But it would be a fire hazard to leave them burning all night.
Wallen waits with the horses and the sleigh I asked him to purchase for Alice’s use. The new coachman will take his post tomorrow, and the majority of the staff will arrive as well.
My valet has been strangely quiet the last few days, but we’ve all been on edge thanks to my mother’s unexpected visit. Hopefully things will return to normal now that she’s gone home.
“I’ll meet you back at the Gravely estate,” Wallen says as he hands me the reins and then mounts his waiting horse.
I offer my hand to Alice. She steps into the sleigh, and the hem of her new heavy white cloak brushes against the frame, sending snow falling to the ground. I slide next to her and pull the blanket over our laps.
“Are you warm enough?” I ask, my voice stiff.
She nods as she runs her hand over the thick woolen blanket.
At my silent command, the horses plod forward. The sleigh cuts through the snow, the bells chiming in the icy air. Clouds blanket the night sky, and before we arrive, snow begins to fall.
Alice interrupts the silence suddenly, making me think she’s been holding her tongue the entire ride and finally found the courage to speak. Staring ahead, she says, “I stood next to you tonight, pretending we belonged together. Wishing you were the human bandit you pretended to be.”
“Alice…”
“I decided it was cruel of you to make me believe you were someone you are not—someone I could care for. But I’m glad I got to know you outside the shadows. Just as glad as I am that I got to know you inside the shadows. I can’t regret the time we spent together, both with you as the bandit and Lord Ambrose, even if I hate that you’re pushing me away now.”
An apology seems too weak, too trite, so I stay silent.
“I wanted to save you…somehow.” She laughs a little. “You wouldn’t believe the thoughts I’ve had in the last few days. Solitude isn’t my friend.”
“Save me?” I ask thickly as we glide to a stop in front of the manor.
“Right the wrongs, face your mother. Avenge my sister and parents, step forward when no one else will.”
I turn to her sharply, hoping I misunderstood her though I know I didn’t.