Chapter 23 #2
Kit stepped around me and picked up the empty crate, then took my hand and led me back to the cart. I climbed onto the bench and settled in my cloak like a bird in its nest. I didn’t ask Kit where we were headed next. It didn’t matter.
We’d avoided the worst, and I couldn’t imagine things getting any better even when Kit returned to his seat beside me and whispered, “I have another surprise for you.”
Anticipation should have kept me awake, but fatigue from my sleepless night got the better of me long before dusk.
I was relieved when we stopped for the night at a rural inn.
It was small with only four guest rooms and ours was outfitted with a bed no bigger than our living room couch.
It was still a sight more comfortable than sleeping sitting up on the hard wooden cart seat, and I stayed awake long enough to eat dinner before dozing off again draped atop Kit with a patched quilt covering us both.
After a porridge breakfast, we returned to the road.
With my head a little clearer, I asked Kit about our destination since our travels no longer included farms and vermin.
He flashed that same coy smile he’d worn when telling me we were skipping our Oath, and it seemed he pushed Flint a little harder, hurrying along to another tiny inn headed the opposite direction of Ashpoint.
By the third day, I’d almost decided we were on an aimless quest, biding our time until it seemed reasonable to return.
I didn’t mind it. I was warm, and the gloves even kept the feeling in my fingers so I was able to fill several pages in my sketchbook and show each to Kit with blushing enthusiasm.
We talked, of course. About the farm and my family.
About the future. With spring planting fast-approaching, I was missing home more than ever and fantasizing about taking Kit there to stay.
To be my husband. To share my life. I caught myself once or twice effusing about changes we could make to the house, dreaming out loud about working the fields until we were tired and sweaty, then stripping out of our clothes and diving into the pond where we would be cool, and wet, and…
“Pen, look.” Kit nudged me with his shoulder, then directed my attention to a break in the trees.
We’d traveled most of the day without much in the way of scenery, so the peaks of roofs and smoke coiling from distant chimneys was enough to stir my interest.
I pushed up, almost standing as the cart rattled on and straining to get a better look. “Is that it?” I asked Kit without being at all sure what it was.
He nodded, then replied in a voice that was almost reverent, “Welcome to Stagcross.”
Pulling into the city, I was immediately enthralled.
Snow formed a thick white blanket over the streets and building tops and, in the waning light of dusk, everything sparkled.
More than that, it shone with color from every storefront and lamppost made with stained glass, like we were entering a life-sized jewelry box.
Cart vendors sold steaming cups of drinking chocolate, something I'd heard of but never tasted, and the passing traffic on the main road traveled in sleighs pulled by reindeer.
My head swung this way and that, trying to absorb the splendor of it all. Kit patted my leg as we drew to a stop outside a building I wouldn’t have guessed to be an inn if not for the wooden sign swinging above the entry.
After helping me down from the bench, Kit took our pack and handed off Flint's reins to a man waiting outside. They exchanged quiet words and Kit handed him a bit of coin before returning to usher me into the building.
The entry was soaring—not as tall as the Ossuary but a close rival, with the exterior windows indicating the structure stood at least three stories tall.
Hanging from the ceiling, a massive glass chandelier contained dozens of candles flickering in pools of wax.
Kit pulled once on my arm, then stopped when he caught me staring.
Slack jawed and stalled barely inside looking every bit the ignorant farm boy I was.
He returned to my side and looped his arm around my waist, giving a squeeze before kissing the side of my head.
“What do you think?” he asked.
I gazed ahead at the desk where other travelers were requesting rooms, and the tavern area beyond that, adorned with more chandeliers and with elaborate tapestries hung on the walls.
People milled in fur trimmed cloaks very similar to mine, or sat at the tables in the tavern.
Every one of them seemed to be smiling. How could they not? It was…
“Beautiful,” I whispered.
I turned to him and found that smile, that look that I now recognized as one of knowing; smug satisfaction.
“How long have you been planning this?” I asked.
Kit raised a shoulder as we advanced toward the desk. “I've been thinking of it for weeks and was planning to take you here next winter. Didn't realize we would have a chance to come so soon. Luckily, I was prepared.”
The woman behind the counter smiled at our approach, then dipped her quill pen into a pot of ink before raising it to the massive ledger book laid open in front of her.
“How may I help you, sir?”
“My husband and I need a room for two nights, please,” Kit replied while fishing out his coin purse.
My cheeks tingled with blush, and I ducked to hide my bashful smile until I heard the attendant announce the total charge for our stay.
“Kit!” I yelped, making him glance over his shoulder with wide eyes. The heat in my face intensified as I shook my head and leaned in to whisper, “That’s too much. You really shouldn’t—”
Kit pressed a finger to my lips. “I said I was prepared.”
Turning back to the woman at the desk, he handed over a stack of the most coins I’d ever seen.
The sight stirred my stomach with feelings I couldn’t name, and they persisted as another man appeared seemingly out of nowhere and took our bag from Kit, then beckoned for me to hand over my satchel as well.
I gave it to him reluctantly, and Kit and I followed as he directed us toward a carved wood staircase in the corner of the room.
Climbing to the second floor, my muddled emotions were buried beneath a renewed sense of awe.
A woven runner rug lined the upper-level hallway that seemed to be comprised entirely of doors.
At least a dozen rooms on this floor alone, with mounted stag heads on either end of the passage.
The one before us seemed to watch with its glassy black eyes as the man carrying our bag showed us to our room and opened the door.
Kit stepped aside, opening the path for me to enter first, and it felt like a formal event.
Everyone waiting while I hurried to get into the room only to immediately stop.
The single bed was massive and framed in by twisted wooden posts that stretched almost to the ceiling.
Tufted, down-filled blankets piled on top of the mattress and pillows plusher than any I’d ever seen.
I wanted to throw myself on it, touch it, but not before absorbing the rest of the space.
Directly before us, the opposite wall boasted a set of double glass doors that opened onto a balcony.
With the curtains drawn, I could see the street below bathed in the orange and pink of the dying sun.
Another door stood open, providing access to a private bathroom.
I barely glimpsed the tub inside, but that was enough.
It was all enough. Like I’d tried to say at the desk, it was too much.
Behind me, the man from downstairs offloaded our bags and gave Kit the room key. I was still frozen in place, barely moving or breathing while I wondered how long I’d been asleep because this must have been a dream.
The door to the hall clicked closed, and Kit walked around to stand in front of me, interrupting my view of the room with something equally stunning: his smile.
He was as happy as everyone else here. Despite the days-long journey that left shadows under his eyes and stubble peppering his jaw, he was beaming.
He stepped in, resting one hand on my waist and cupping the other to my cheek.
I’d been shocked stiff, but as soon as he touched me, the tension in my body began to unwind.
I melted into him, bypassing what might have been a kiss to throw myself at him and squeeze until I was certain he was real, I was real, this was real.
Kit groaned as I wrenched the air out of him. I pulled back, apologetic but still speechless as he brushed his knuckles over my jaw, then curled his fingers around the nape of my neck.
His deep brown eyes searched mine. “Do you like it?” he asked.
I started nodding long before my words caught up to my thoughts. “I’ve never seen anything like it.”
If I hadn’t been so stunned, I would have grabbed him then, because this grand of a gesture deserved one in kind.
I would have flung him down on the bed that looked as cottony as a cloud and ravished him with every kind of pleasure I knew how to give.
But I didn’t move at all, still held in Kit’s careful hands as his smile spread.
“There’s more,” he said.
My head lolled back as I was stricken with further disbelief. “How could there possibly be more?”
Kit tugged me in for a kiss that was far too brief, then used his grip on my side to guide me toward the balcony doors.
Standing before them, we could see below and down the street on both sides.
The shops were bustling despite the late hour, and the darker it got, the more vibrant the colors from the streetlamps and storefronts became.
“I had your sketchbook bound here,” Kit explained, “with some help from Levitt. It’s an artisan community. I’m sure you noticed all the glass.”
“And the textiles, and the wood, and…” While I rambled, a sleigh passed by with the muffled thud of hooves. “They have reindeer,” I murmured.
Kit nodded while echoing, “They raise reindeer.”
My gaze roamed down the road to where we’d first entered town. A canopied stand framed in a steel cauldron heating over a low fire. Customers ferried away cups of steaming cocoa, and I found myself sniffing the air as if I could smell the sweetness from here.
“And drinking chocolate,” I added.
Kit laughed. “Shall we start with that then?”