Chapter 22 Adar
Adar
“I’m going to have to get Jonah out here to trade spots with me if you keep coming at me this hard,” Darrin said, breathless, sweat running down his temple as he parried my strike.
I stared at the aging man before me, and I couldn’t help but wish it was Papa sparring with me instead.
Darrin and Jonah had always been more like uncles than simply Papa’s friends.
Jonah, the worrier, and Darrin, the steady voice of reason, had been constants in my life.
And their presence now gave me comfort as I tried to carry the weight of leading the coven.
But no matter how grateful I was for them, nothing filled the hole left by Papa.
I shook off the thought before he could take advantage of my distraction and best me.
“If you’d just admit to me that you’re old and tired, I might back off,” I taunted, circling him.
He smiled. “Never.”
He lunged, and I stepped aside just in time, letting his momentum carry him forward before I swung my sword up, catching his blade with a sharp clang.
The steel rang out through the clearing, echoing in the still morning air.
We moved fast—boots crunching against the softening earth, blades flashing in and out of sunlight that streamed between the branches overhead.
Darrin was better than most gave him credit for.
Strong. Precise. But he favored his left side today, and I used it.
I twisted, ducked, then came up hard with a swing meant to disarm.
He caught it, barely, grunting as our swords locked.
We stood close, the tension between us humming through the vibrating metal.
“Trying to make me retire early?” he grunted.
“Trying to see if you’ve still got it.”
With a sharp shove, he broke the bind and swept a kick toward my legs. I jumped back, regaining footing just in time to meet his next swing. We clashed again, sparks flying as the blades kissed.
This wasn’t just training. It was therapy. It was survival.
And I needed to stay sharp. Because I had a feeling peace wouldn’t last forever.
We both lowered our blades, chest heaving. I wiped sweat from my brow and leaned against a tree, the bark cool against my spine.
My days now were spent traveling across Joveryn to let the coven members know of their newfound freedom.
It had been nearly over a month since the decree was made, but there were still parts of the kingdom that hadn’t gotten word.
If this had happened any other time of the year, the word would have traveled almost instantly, but instead it had to happen in the middle of winter when most of the coven—especially the ones that lived north of town—spent the next couple of months in their homes and only traveled when necessary.
Some days I visited entire villages where witches had never set foot outside their homes for fear of being hunted. I sat with mothers and grandmothers who wept and looked at me like I had brought them the sun.
Others were more hesitant. Some demanded proof. Some watched me warily, years of caution etched into every glance. And I gave them the truth. The pain and the sacrifice. My parents’ deaths and the fire Bronwen lit to break the chains holding us all.
“Your parents’ sacrifice will not go unnoticed. We will honor them with our commitment to you,” they all said, something along those lines after they wept, cheered, hugged me like I had a magical sign floating above me, asking to be embraced.
Their sacrifice.
Their lives.
Bronwen’s sacrifice.
Bronwen’s freedom.
Everything I loved had been taken from me, but I couldn’t let the weight of it all drown me.
I had to bury it deep, hide my emotions, and be the strong leader I was raised to be.
But I didn’t want any of that. The only reason I continued through the motions was for Bronwen.
I had given up a lot, but she had given up more.
This had been the darkest winter we’d endured, and yet it seemed to pass faster than any before. The ground had begun to soften, thick patches of snow were melting, and if you stood in the sun long enough, you could feel a moment of warmth.
Maybe the gods had taken pity on us and thought we’d been through enough this year.
When I wasn’t traveling, I trained with Jonah and Darrin, ensuring my skills didn’t falter. We might have a weird sense of safety right now, but deep in my gut I knew that something else was lurking out there, waiting to strike.
And then there was the one moment of weakness when I came across Talia in the woods, still searching for Shadow.
For a second, I wanted to reach for her. I wanted to say I was sorry for how we ended, for the truth she never got to hear. And when she stepped closer, when her fingers brushed mine and she looked at me with something almost like forgiveness, I didn’t pull away.
We didn’t speak. Not with words. Just a quiet desperation that pulled us together beneath the cover of trees and fading light.
It wasn’t planned. It wasn’t wise. But it felt inevitable.
I held her like I used to, kissed her like I still meant it.
And when I whispered her name against her neck, I felt her shudder like she’d been waiting years to hear it.
She still loved me. I felt it in every touch, every breath she shared with me that night. And I loved her too. I always had. But loving her was dangerous. My life wasn’t safe. And no matter how much I wanted to stay in that moment, in her arms, I knew I couldn’t let it happen again.
Because the next time, it might kill her.
As the sun rose higher, I forced my thoughts back to the present.
I brushed the dirt from my clothes and sheathed my blade before heading down the trail that led to town.
The walk wasn’t long from Darrin’s home, just far enough to separate the quiet of the woods from the low hum of life in the streets.
People were beginning to emerge from their homes, wiping sleep from their eyes, some carrying baskets for Market, others leading sleepy children by the hand.
A few stopped to greet me, smiling in that cautious, grateful way I still wasn’t used to.
I offered nods, a few quiet words. But I kept moving.
The whispers followed me. Not loud. Not obvious. But I’d caught enough to know what they were saying.
“She’s a witch, isn’t she? The king married a witch!”
“Her parents were burned by his father. Can you believe that? What kind of man marries into the bloodline his father tried to wipe out?”
“I heard she turned one of them to ash with a flick of her wrist.”
“He was working with the Legion. Hunting his own kind!”
“And now magic’s back? What does that mean for the rest of us?”
Speculation hung in the air like smoke from a hearth fire. Bronwen’s name was enough to stir unease. She had become a symbol. Of freedom and of fear. She was the quiet storm that unsettled the entire kingdom.
I kept walking.
Because I savored every fleeting moment I could spend with her now.