Fourteen Blythe
FOURTEEN
B LYTHE
Blythe wasn’t so foolish as to overlook that her husband was hiding something. She was , however, clever enough to take advantage of it.
She and Aris walked arm in arm through the streets of Brude, their pace slower to accommodate Elijah, who never allowed Aris to help ease his way with magic.
Elijah was in remarkable shape for his age, though it was jarring to watch her father grow older through the years.
Blythe had gotten so used to everyone in her life remaining precisely the same, at least aesthetically.
Elijah was the only full mortal who still existed in her everyday world, and Blythe’s chest ached when she thought about the day when he’d finally lay eyes on the reaper he was so curious about and be taken from her.
They hadn’t discussed the future or what would happen when he was no longer of this world. Elijah had tried once or twice to broach the conversation, but Blythe hadn’t wanted any part of it.
Not yet. Not when she hoped there were still many years left when she could have everyone she loved at her side.
She held tighter to Aris, grateful for his presence and the way his eyes flickered every so often to Elijah, ensuring he was well.
Her father may not have noticed anything outright, but Blythe could feel the subtle shifts in the world around them.
Overgrown roots being held back with threads until Elijah stepped past them.
The hills smoothed for an easier terrain, and the snow made thicker beneath him, easier to cross.
Aris had less obvious ways of showing his affection, but it was there. And witnessing it made Blythe as warm as a spring day.
“I suspect people will be too busy to listen to us,” Aris noted, though his voice lacked any real conviction. “They’re likely preparing for Christmas Eve. Perhaps we should consider something else. A gondola ride, or a nice walk through the park…”
Blythe tightened her arm around his. “There’s no getting out of this. Besides, you love showing off.”
“Certainly, when it’s my idea.”
Blythe patted his arm gently as she stopped him at the edge of the town square. “Tell you what, you can pick our first song.”
Aris let out a theatrical sigh. “Echoes of Snowfall” was his choice, and while he appeared reluctant to sing, one glance at Blythe had him trying his best to appease her. Fortunately, Elijah wasn’t about to let his son-in-law have all the fun.
Her father began the song at full volume, not waiting for a crowd but choosing instead to build his own.
Elijah, it turned out, did not have a lick of stage fright in him.
Blythe had once thought that it was alcohol that gave him the courage to perform so freely, though he’d been sober for several decades now.
He took the tin of caramels from Blythe and she joined in, joyously observing more than she was singing as her father shamelessly approached each passerby, brandishing delectable sweets as he sang.
Blythe caught several women blushing as they took their treats, and she stifled her grin.
Elijah really ought to have been a performer. There was a glimmer in his eyes as he captivated his audience, his breath blowing tendrils in the frosted air.
Beside him, Aris was starting to find his rhythm.
His voice, low at first, grew steadier as he handed out caramels with a flourish that bordered on playful.
Blythe could see the tension easing from his shoulders, the corners of his mouth lifting just enough to betray his enjoyment.
It wasn’t long before he was singing in earnest, Elijah’s arm slung around his shoulder as their harmonies carried through the square.
Blythe’s own cheeks were flushed, numb from winter’s sting.
She’d forgotten her gloves, too, and could barely feel her fingertips.
Still, Brude was as lovely as ever, the quaint cobblestone streets a cacophony of music and chattering.
Of gently lapping water and the clomping of hooves as carriages rolled through town.
It was the most magical city, where spired roofs glistened with snow and icicles hung from the eaves.
The air smelled of roasted chestnuts and spiced cider from nearby stalls, and shop windows were dressed in greenery and ribbons, showcasing an array of beautifully crafted toys in their displays.
Wreaths made of holly, pine, and berries hung above several doors they passed, each decorated with bright red bows.
The gas lamps were lit, casting a warm glow over the faces of children who laughed and chased each other through the streets.
Blythe’s heart ached with happiness to know that she would spend the rest of her lifetime at Aris’s side in a place like this, while also finding more perfect towns that would steal her heart.
Many of the townsfolk had gravitated toward them, welcomed by the spirited men as they joined in the song. Blythe was still moving her mouth to the words, but she’d been swept away by the magic of her home, lost in her own delight.
At least she was lost in delight, until she caught sight of a curious shadow flitting across the alleyway opposite Aris.
A reflection of the gas lamps on the snow?
She couldn’t look away, and the longer she stared, the more she realized the shadows were beginning to take the form of a reaper who stood in the alley, wedged between two shops.
With the exception of the quick glance he shot at Blythe, Sylas was clearly keeping out of sight.
She hesitated, looking over her shoulder to ensure no one was watching.
Thank goodness it was already so cold, otherwise Aris might have noticed his brother skulking about.
As it was, Aris was too distracted, getting louder each and every time Elijah did and filling every child’s pocket with caramels.
Meanwhile, Sylas’s shadows tugged at the hem of Blythe’s dress, then her boots, until she was able to pick up her skirts and dart into the alley. The moment she arrived, Sylas’s shadows dripped from him like an abandoned coat, lifting to mask Blythe.
Her brother looked exhausted. The skin beneath his eyes was hollowed, and his cheeks were quite gaunt. His clothes were shredded as well, and he pulled his sleeves down when he caught her staring.
“This beast has a death wish.” He glowered. “It keeps trying to scratch me.”
Blythe noticed then that there was a cat prowling at his feet and she gasped, glancing behind her to ensure no one could see them.
“You’re sure this is the right one?” she asked, her eyes hot.
Sylas drew a step back from the cat, looking torn between touching it and fearing for his own arm. “I believe so, but I figured you would know best.”
Heart racing, Blythe bent to try to scoop up the beast. She’d thought it was a house cat considering how plump the creature was, but given how it yowled and scratched at her, it was clear the beast was feral.
She had no choice but to stumble back and allow the cat to leap from her arms. Sylas’s shadows had it back in their clutches before it could escape, though given the cat’s constant protests, curious eyes were already beginning to search for the noise.
“That’s it!” Blythe laughed, delight warming through her. “A right and proper beast.”
“I thought it’d be more pleasant,” Sylas huffed. “It’s a wonder that it got as fat as it did with that attitude. It doesn’t seem the type to know how to butter up humans.”
The cat twitched its tail, hissing at Sylas. He hissed back, and as he did the cat’s tail grew bushy, the hairs on its back raising as a cold breeze blew through the alley.
“You’d be surprised,” Blythe said, her chest tight as the cat trotted up to her leg, giving Blythe a long sniff before it butted its head against her calf.
She wished she had more time to thank Sylas properly, but Aris would notice her disappearance any second now, if he hadn’t already.
“Can you hide her somewhere, just until tomorrow? You can take her to Wisteria’s library.”
Sylas winced. “Do you have any other ideas? I imagine we’ll need somewhere where this creature’s wretched yowling will not unnerve all of Wisteria.”
“What about taking her to Foxglove for the night? Otherwise our best option is the stables. They’re empty, so Aris won’t have any reason to go in there. ” Speaking of her husband, he was searching for her, squinting through the crowd.
“I will take her to Foxglove with the hope that this creature does not destroy my home,” Sylas said. “Now go to Aris, preferably before he burns the entire world searching for you.” He let the shadows drop and was gone a second later.
Aris started toward Blythe, finally catching sight of her. “I could swear that I just felt my brother.” He looked down, narrowing his eyes as if searching for Sylas’s shadows.
Blythe offered the barest shrug. “Tell me your secrets, husband, and I shall tell you mine.”
Aris relaxed, his posture easing. “I suppose it’s a good thing that I’m a patient man.”
“You are hardly patient.” She grabbed hold of his hand, fingers threading through his. “It’s freezing out here. What do you say we grab my father and head back before it gets any darker?”
Aris glanced behind him at Elijah, who was drinking hot chocolate and eating caramels on the corner with some of the townsfolk.
“Leave him,” Aris said. “I’ve reinforced his clothing, so he shouldn’t be cold. He’ll come when he’s ready.”
Blythe smiled at that, her heart so light it felt as if it were floating. “Do you know I love you so much that I hardly know what to do with myself sometimes?”
The fondness in Aris’s smile was enough to steal her breath. “I know exactly the feeling, Sweetbrier.”
There was just one more day to get through before she gave him her present—she could barely wait. She leaned against her husband, and with a brewing warmth in her chest, let him pave the path back to Wisteria.
The present was secured. Sylas had returned. Her father was having the night of his life. And Aris… Aris was in her arms once more.
It seemed the holly had worked, after all. Tomorrow was Christmas Eve, and it felt for the first time as if nothing could possibly go wrong.