Some of the tension in Serilda’s shoulders evaporated at her kind tone. “Thank you. I don’t have coin with me this time, but next time I return from Märchenfeld I will be more prepared—”
Lorraine cut her off with a wave of her hand. “I won’t risk angering the hunt, whether you have coin or not. I have a daughter to think about, you know.”
Serilda swallowed. “I do know. I truly don’t wish to be a burden, but if I could let a room during the full moon?”
Lorraine nodded. “Consider the Wild Swan your second home.”
“Thank you. You will have payment.”
Lorraine shrugged. “We’ll figure that out when the time comes. At least you won’t feel that you have to con Leyna into buying your breakfast this time.”
Serilda flushed. “She told you about that?”
“She’s a good girl, but terrible at keeping secrets.” She seemed to hesitate over something, then heaved a sigh and crossed her arms. “I do want to help you. It’s something of my nature, and Leyna was quite taken with you, and … well. You don’t strike me as the sort who goes outlookingfor trouble, which is a habit I can’t tolerate.”
Serilda shifted her weight. “No, but it does find me often enough.”
“So it seems. But I’m not going to talk around the hot porridge. You should know that the people here are frightened. They saw a human girl coming out of that castle the morning after the hunt, and it’s got us spooked. The hunters don’t stray much from routine. People are worried what it might mean. They think you could be a?…”
“A bad omen?”
Lorraine’s expression was sympathetic. “Precisely. Your eyes don’t help matters.”
“They never have.”
“But what worriesme,” Lorraine said, “is that Leyna seems to be under the impression that you’re out for some sort of revenge. That you intend to kill the Erlking.”
“Oh? Children and their imaginations.”
Lorraine lifted an eyebrow, her expression challenging. “Perhaps it was a misunderstanding, but that is the story she’s been telling to anyone who will listen. Like I said, not much for secrets, that child.”
Serilda shrugged off her cloak, growing warm despite her damp clothes. Serilda hadn’t asked Leynanotto tell anyone. In fact, she’d fully expected her to spread the story to the other children. She shouldn’t have been surprised.
What was odd was that, at the time, she’d had no reason to seek personal vengeance against the Erlking. That was before she knew that he really had taken her mother. That was before her father had been thrown from his horse during the wild hunt. That was before this spark of hatred had begun to smolder in her chest.
“I assure you,” she said, “I don’t mean to bring any trouble.”
“I’m sure you don’t,” said Lorraine. “But let’s not imagine that the dark ones care for your good intentions.”
Serilda lowered her eyes, knowing she was right.
“For your sake,” Lorraine continued, “I hope you were merely trying to impress a fanciful little girl. Because if you truly think you’re going to do harm to the Erlking, then you’re a fool. His wrath is not to be tried, and I will not have my daughter, or my town, taking any part in it.”
“I understand.”
“Good. I’ll bring you that cider, then. Breakfast, too?”
“If it isn’t too much to ask.”
After Lorraine had bustled away, Serilda hung her cloak on a peg beside the hearth and settled into the nearest table. When the food arrived, she dug into it hungrily, surprised yet again at how hungry the ordeal at the castle had left her.
“You’re back!” said an excited voice, as Leyna plopped herself into the seat across from her, eyes shining. “But how? My friends and I were watching the roads all day yesterday. Someone would have noticed you coming back to the city. Unless”—her eyes widened—“were you brought by the hunt?Again?And he still hasn’t killed you?”
“Not yet. I guess I’ve been lucky.”
Leyna looked unconvinced. “I told Mama I thought you were brave, but she said you might be trying to get to Verloren before your time.”
Serilda laughed. “Not on purpose, I swear it.”