Chapter 13
Talvie
Lark finishes showing me how to fold the simple rye dough around the rice filling, sealing each Karelian pie with careful crinkle folds. We get them into the oven just in time for the kids to come barreling through the door.
They must have stopped to collect Aili because she enters with them, her nose wrinkling as she sniffs the air. “Oh, that actually smells good.”
Lark taps her nose. “We’ll trade you a fresh Karelian pie for a smile.”
The resulting tooth-baring sneer makes us both laugh.
“Close enough,” Lark says, then glances at me. “Although it’s up to Val, really. She’s the one who made them.”
“What, no. I didn’t—” I don’t deserve the credit when Lark did all the real work. “Of course, you can all have them. I didn’t really—I couldn’t have done it without your help. I would have burned the place down.”
“Wouldn’t be our first fire,” Johannes mutters, while Juani silently points a finger at Helkki behind her back.
“I’d love a Karelian pie,” Katja says appreciatively.
Mikael, still big and intimidating, hums his agreement from the doorway.
Lark finalizes the matter with a sharp clap of his hands.
“Good. Because we’re going to be doing more cooking around here to stretch our funds and our stay.
” He wipes his hands on a cloth. “In fact, I need to go talk to Daria about cutting the meal plan, but first, we need to tell you all something.”
He inhales dramatically and then takes my hand.
What is he…?
Before I can move, he lifts my fingers to his lips and presses a kiss to them. Warmth burns into the spot, leaving my fingers tingling for far too long after.
“We’re to be married,” he pronounces.
A heartbeat of silence.
I blink. My breath freezes.
Then the room erupts.
The kids all talk over each other—Katja steps back with narrowed eyes, Aili whines a long run-on question, while Johannes whispers something to Juani, capped by a sneeze in his brother’s ear. Juani curses.
Helkki barks question after question, bouncing on her toes. “Are you in love? Didn’t you just meet? Does this mean we’re moving? Will we live with Val’s family? Oh, are we going to the Sundalands? When is the wedding? Can I carry flowers? Ooh, can the flowers be on fire?”
Eventually, Lark can’t take it anymore and drops his mask. While he drowns in laughter, I’m reeling, heat surging up my neck to my face.
I did not fall for his tricks, not even for an instant.
She may barely come to Lark’s waist, but Katja commands his attention with her hands on her hips. “What’s really going on?”
“Okay, okay.” He waits for quiet. “We’re not really getting married. I mean, obviously.”
Right. Yes.
“Obviously,” I agree, finding my voice.
I stand frozen with my fingers still in Lark’s warm grasp. I’m not sure he notices, and I’m not sure if I want to pull away or hold on tighter. For now I need the steadying calm he lends me. It feels far more real than the deception it is.
My heart races faster than Hugo’s tiny paws as he comes skittering into the room to investigate all the noise, his claws scrabbling on the wooden floor.
I don’t know why Lark’s joke left me so shaken.
We barely know each other, and this whole thing is a ruse.
It’s a temporary disruption, but apparently my silly brain liked the idea of someone wanting me forever. Stupid.
Lark lets go of my hand to scoop up the hedgehog before he gets trampled by Helkki, who is still bouncing between her siblings.
With Hugo safely perched atop his hat, he smiles. “Here’s the deal…”
After explaining the engagement gambit to the kids, Lark accompanies me to the inn.
I have another night of dishwashing ahead of me, but now that I’ve calmed down, my thoughts linger on the conversation with his family.
I didn't expect him to tell them all the plan, but he insisted they could keep secrets, even Aili. By the time we left, they were excited about their roles, chattering about their parts and scripting outings as if we’re staging a grand production.
Which, in a way, we are.
“It’s called method acting,” Lark explained for my benefit while the rest just nodded. Or rather, Johannes sneezed, but I took that as understanding. “We’ll be acting like we’re engaged all the time, because we need the locals to believe it. Sentry Niemi—”
“Muskrat-face?” Aili piped up.
“We should probably stop calling him that. But, yes. Niemi is assembling a board of sentries in the area to decide our case. So we need to act like we’re happily engaged at all times since we don’t know who will see us or who might end up deciding our fate.”
They sounded like actors preparing for opening night, as if this sort of thing were normal in their lives. Somewhere along the way, I found myself laughing with them as we ate the Karelian pies, which weren’t half bad. A few fell apart, but Katja imparted some wisdom to me.
“There’s a saying about Karelian pies, you know. They say they always look alike with their maker.” Then she winked at the pie crumbling to pieces in my hand.
Yep, that seems about right.
Leaving behind the scent of fresh-baked dough and the easy camaraderie in the cottage, I’m reminded of magical full moon nights with my father and Taynia, when we binged on pastries at dawn as the last notes of the revel wound down.
I pull my cloak tight in the cold air, letting reality sink its teeth into me. We cross the frozen courtyard in silence, and Lark opens the back door into the inn.
“Ready for this?”
“Probably not,” I admit.
We aren’t in the safety of the cottage anymore. This isn’t a dreamy play with kids giggling over their parts. It’s just me and Lark, and we have to sell this illusion.
His arm slips around my shoulders as the door closes on the cold, and the warmth of the tavern envelops us. Scents of stewed meats and freshly baked bread greet us, along with Daria’s voice calling out from her office doorway.
I stiffen.
“Don’t you two look cozy?” She watches us like a smirking hawk over her stack of invoices and booking forms. “I wondered why you went out to the cottages when it wasn’t your shift.”
I gulp. “I didn’t realize that wasn’t allowed. I’ll be ready for my shift tonight. I wasn’t bothering anyone.”
With a sigh, she slides her gaze to Lark. “Are you able to get her to relax and breathe?”
He chuckles, giving me a little squeeze against his side. “It’s a work in progress. My fiancée is tightly wound sometimes, but she’s well-meaning, we promise.”
Silver eyebrows shoot toward her hairline.
“Fiancée? Did I miss an announcement? Because I recall you showing up alone in mismatched tatters, and you arriving separately with seven orphans in tow. Unless I’m much mistaken, that was…
” She checks a large calendar on the wall with an unnecessary sweep of her arm. “Less than a sennight ago.”
Lark glances at me. I give a small shrug. Daria has been good to me, given me more chances than I ever expected. I trust her.
Oh, I trust her. Wow.
Besides, I may have spilled my guts to her earlier.
“Ah,” she says knowingly. “You said yes.”
“I guess I did.”
My cheeks are already rosy from the cold, but that doesn’t stop them from heating. Lark looks amused rather than disappointed in me, even though I’m the reason we’re failing this first test.
“First rule of method acting, Val,” he teases. “Don’t tell people you’re pretending.”
“I didn’t mean to! It was the sugar high. It’s the icing’s fault.”
“Oh, well, in that case…” he says solemnly. “Who among us wouldn’t be undone by Daria’s cinnamon roll icing?” That ridiculous dimple in his right cheek pops.
Daria lets out a sharp laugh. “You do actually make a lovely couple. I’m sure you’ll have no trouble fooling lesser beings than me.”
“You won’t say anything?” I ask hopefully.
“Oh, no. I have a feeling this will be highly entertaining to watch. And I don’t have nearly enough fun in my life since my wife and daughter left.”
I blink. “You were married?”
Her smirk fades. “I still am. Natasja had to take our daughter to the Ronalands to find work.” She exhales, leaning back in her chair. “We used to run the inn together, but since the ice came, it hasn’t been enough.”
“You couldn’t go with them?” I ask.
She sighs with the weight of things unsaid. “The Laisi Mula is everything we saved for—our whole life in these walls. We couldn’t pack it up in a suitcase and carry it out of the cold. Besides, someone has to keep the hearth lit and the townsfolk fed so there’s something for them to come home to.”
It’s hard to imagine the pain of that separation, of leaving someone you love just to survive. Of choosing it. Distance, sacrifice, survival—these things are so far removed from my life at the palace, yet here in Ylvara, I’m understanding them more.
“I’m sorry,” I say. “It must be difficult missing them.”
“It is. But we all do what we must in these times.” Her gaze flicks to Lark. “Isn’t that right?”
He nods solemnly, giving me an odd look from the corner of his eye.
“We do. Thank you for keeping our secret. I won’t turn down help where it’s offered.
” Lark takes a breath as Daria inclines her head toward him.
“Speaking of which… I know our paid sennight is up, but we really need to stay. Can we cut the meal service to save a bit? I’ll cook instead.
And if you have any more repair jobs that need doing, I’m at your service. ”
Daria taps a finger against her chin, considering. “I may have a few jobs. Not that I can afford much either.” Then, a slow, almost mischievous smile spreads across her lips. “But there’s another way you could save money.”
Lark straightens. “I’ll do whatever it takes.”
“Well,” she says, still smiling. “It would be customary for engaged couples to stay together.”
My jaw pops open. Surely she’s not suggesting—
“I can transfer your room and board to the cottage, Val. If we take meals off for you too, it would cover more than half the cottage rental fee.”
She is. The woman is batty.
I’ve seen the cottage. It’s packed to the rafters with its eight current residents. Aili already complains about sharing her room, and I know they’re all bunked together like chipmunks sharing a log.
I glance at Lark, expecting reluctance. Instead, naked hope shines in his honeyed eyes. I wet my lips.
“I can’t ask you to give up your privacy for my madhouse of chaos goblins,” Lark says.
“You’re not asking me.”
“No, but…”
That hope is still there. My heart squeezes.
“Can you afford it without me?”
“I’ll figure something out,” he assures me. “I always do. I can find jobs around Ylvara. We’re planning a few performances to bring in coin, too. Whatever it takes.”
I see in that moment how much he’s willing to do to keep his family together.
Here is something I can do for him to ease his burden. Isn’t that the kind of opportunity I wished for at the palace? Being trapped under Taynia’s thumb, I stopped trying. I forgot the things I once hoped to be able to do as a ruler.
So far, every decision I’ve made has been for my own survival, while Lark gives everything he has to protecting his family. When was the last time I did something unselfishly?
The thought tastes sour, so I push it down. “I can move my things tonight after work.”
Daria waves a hand. “Morning is soon enough, girl. I can’t rent your room before then.”
One more night.
One more night to figure out how to hide who I am in a packed cottage.
With more conviction than I feel, I nod.