Chapter III.31
Chapter Thirty-One
Two Days After the Wedding
She slept for a day, so Sarel told her when Miria stumbled out of her bed.
The cottage was strangely quiet. Miria had expected the other witches to be bustling about, deciding Rosmilda’s fate, but it appeared to only be her and Sarel left.
Of course, the others had their own territories to tend to, but where did that leave things?
“Sit,” Sarel said. She was scooping something hot into a bowl. “I made you porridge. Not the most exciting meal, I know, but a good one when you’re recovering.”
Miria shuffled toward the table, trying to act like she didn’t feel like she could sleep for another day, but Sarel wasn’t buying it.
“Do not be surprised if it takes a couple of days to be back to yourself.” Sarel slid the jar of honey and a bowl of freshly picked raspberries Miria’s way.
Miria dumped enough berries into her porridge to drown out any other flavor. They remained her favorite food, even after all these years. “I don’t have time for that. There’s too much to do. Where’s Rosmilda? My father?”
“We decided Rosmilda’s fate yesterday while you slept.”
“You should have woken me.” She was annoyed by this but too worn out to say the words.
Sarel sipped her tea before responding. “You discovered her crimes, and you brought her down. You more than did your part. The rest should not have to weigh on you.”
“And what is the rest?”
“There’s a forest, about a week’s journey by non-magical travel south of here.
It was stricken with blight. The witch who tends it stopped the spread, but the forest was weakened.
We’ve tasked Rosmilda with reviving the land.
The witch will supervise her, and since Rosmilda knows how to use magic, she’ll be provided with enough to heal the forest. She cannot leave it, though.
She’s been bound to the trees, her own vitality tied to theirs.
Should she neglect her duty, she will die with the woods.
On the other hand, should the spell we placed on her ever sense she has learned to feel true remorse for her actions and wishes to atone in another manner of her choosing, then the binding will be undone to allow it. ”
Miria scowled and swirled her spoon around the porridge bowl.
The punishment fit, but it felt too good for Rosmilda when people had died.
Still, Miria knew the witches would not kill her.
They would want her to have the chance to make amends.
If not for her own sake, then because she owed the world a debt for what she’d done.
“Do you actually believe she’ll do good? She deserves far worse.”
Sarel smiled. “If you’re worried she won’t suffer, don’t. I have no doubt that she’ll be miserable for a long time.”
“And my father, my sisters?”
Adaline? Miria couldn’t form her name without a lump rising in her throat.
“We made certain your father and brother could not help but speak the truth about their involvement in all that occurred.” Sarel stood and began gathering the supplies she’d brought with her so many days ago into her traveling pack.
“Since he isn’t a witch, we’ve left your father’s fate in the hands of those he wronged.
Your brother, I’m sure you’ll be relieved to hear, had no part in their schemes. The truth spell confirmed it.”
He hadn’t? That information didn’t surprise Miria, but nor did it particularly relieve her.
Thinking about Hans and her feelings toward him made her tired, and she was already exhausted.
At least, if he hadn’t been implicated, then he could watch over Winda and Katline. That was something, for now anyway.
“You’re leaving?” Miria asked.
Sarel nodded. “I’ve been gone too long, but I wanted to be here when you woke up and not just leave you a letter explaining everything. You’ll be all right?”
It wasn’t really a question, but a statement of faith in her. A witch could take care of herself most of the time, and she knew when to call on others if she couldn’t. Miria’s time of need had ended.
Funny, then, that she still felt needy.
“I have Tuli to help.” Miria hugged Sarel goodbye. “We’ll be fine. Thank you for your assistance.”
She walked Sarel the short distance to the door, but she was too weak to go any farther without pausing, and Sarel didn’t expect it. They exchanged a few more words, and then that was that. Miria was alone.
Well, not totally. Tuli was in the garden, weeding, from the looks of it, and he waved when he saw Miria in the doorway.
Miria waved back and walked slowly outside. The forest was quiet, but only compared to the recent commotion she’d experienced. The leaves rustled in the wind, birds sang, squirrels and other small mammals scuttled through the trees and underbrush. It was peaceful. Delightful.
And quiet. It was what she’d wanted. Right?
Miria sat in a sunny spot on the ground, hugged her knees to her chest, and tried to enjoy it. But mostly, she thought about Adaline and wondered where she was and wished she didn’t feel so alone.
Miria felt more like herself the next morning.
Not well enough to do anything so strenuous as scry for Adaline, but well enough to make her own breakfast, feed the chickens, and use magic to rewarm her tea when it got too cold.
She longed to venture into town to learn more about the aftermath of Adaline’s disastrous wedding (and to discover the rumors that must be circulating about the would-have-been bride and groom and the Overseer), but that was asking too much yet.
A bath, on the other hand—she might be up for that, as long as Tuli accompanied her to the river to be safe.
A bath felt sufficiently ambitious. If that didn’t tire her out too much, she would see about making a plan for restocking her spell supplies.
Yesterday, she’d taken note of what she was running low on, but her energy had run out before she could do anything about it.
So yes, she had a plan. She would not dwell on those things or people she could not control. She would be patient.
Miria was about to call for Tuli when the forest warned her of an approaching visitor. The person was neither a threat nor a stranger, but the woods weren’t forthcoming with more information. It was enough to give Miria hope, though, especially when the path formed without her needing to call it.
Hooves clomped along the dirt, and the trees parted, revealing a white horse and hooded rider. Miria’s heart beat with unexpected trepidation.
Adaline slid off of Pearl and barely tied her to a tree before rushing over and throwing her arms around Miria.
“I’m so sorry. I wanted to come sooner, but so many things happened, and I couldn’t get away.
It’s been madness. Are you all right? I saw the witches taking you away, and I feared you were dead, but they told me you’d be fine, but I hadn’t received a letter from you or seen you in days, and …
” She finally trailed off, burying her face in Miria’s neck.
Miria appreciated Adaline’s ability to keep speaking because it allowed her time to hold Adaline and emotionally regroup.
“I’m all right, I’m fine. I simply slept for a day.” Miria laughed and realized tears were running down her cheeks, and she pulled away, wiping them off. “It’s been happening a lot lately.”
Adaline’s eyes were watery, too, and she cupped Miria’s wet cheeks. “You’ve been doing too much. You were incredible at my uncle’s. I have no idea what you did, but it was amazing. You glowed for a moment, like a star. Like a goddess.”
“Like a star exploding, perhaps,” Miria said, smiling shakily. She’d read about such things in one of Yali’s books about the sky. “I’m fine now but recovering. I suppose I should have sent a letter yesterday or this morning, but you’ll have to forgive me. I’m still not thinking clearly.”
“I don’t need to forgive you for anything.” Adaline threw her arms around Miria once more and squeezed so tightly that Miria couldn’t breathe for a moment. “You’ll have to forgive me, though.”
The nervousness that had gripped Miria when Adaline first appeared returned. Was Adaline here only to say goodbye? After everything, Miria would not be surprised if her family had begun packing their carriages immediately.
“Forgive you for what?” Miria asked, not wanting to give voice to her worry.
Adaline knit her hands together nervously. “For intruding on you with no warning and begging you to allow me to stay?”
“Is that all?” The words burst from Miria in relief, with a laugh.
“I know, I am sorry. But my parents are distraught, and they’re furious with me, as though I’m the one who was duped all this time by Rosmilda’s magic when they were the ones who’d gone and gotten themselves enchanted!
But I suppose it’s only expected when everyone is so angry about all that happened, yet only certain people are allowed to be blamed. ”
“Only certain people?” Miria’s laughter was brief. Tension once more surged through her veins. “I know what became of Rosmilda, but what of my father?”
Adaline wobbled on her feet, and Miria patted the cottage stoop for them both to sit.
After doing so, Adaline pressed the wrinkles in her skirt with her hands before speaking.
“After I explained to my father and uncle what I knew multiple times, I was banished from the discussions. Silly little me was not permitted to be part of the men’s business, despite my significant role in it. ”
“So you don’t know?” Miria couldn’t tell if Adaline was stalling because she was frustrated that she had nothing to share or simply that she had nothing good to share.
“Oh, I know. Of course, I was not about to stand for that.” Adaline gave her a good-natured admonishing look.
“I just wish I had better news. Whatever spell your witch friends put on your father made him confess, but the spell wore off soon enough and well … He convinced my father and uncle that any role he had in everything was solely due to Rosmilda’s influence.
He claims he was corrupted by her, and he’s thrown himself at the church for mercy and forgiveness. ”
Miria rolled her eyes, recalling how close Rosmilda had once been to Swiftdok’s priest. “And the church will vouch for him because Rosmilda corrupted the priest as well, I assume? They will say that this is why giving women power is dangerous.”
“I’m sorry to say it, but yes.” Adaline sighed.
“My family and the priest are eager to forgive him and absolve themselves of poor judgement. Due to his alleged weakness of mind, my uncle has stripped your father of the position of Overseer, but Miri, I strongly doubt he will face any worse punishments.”
Miria doubted it too, but it would be a problem for a later day. “What of my sisters?”
Adaline smiled at this change in topic. “Your brother took them, the last I know. The witches’ spell absolved him of any complicity. I don’t know what he means to do next, but I do believe he cares about them, and they will be safe.”
Miria wondered about that, but she would allow herself hope. At least until she was feeling strong enough to scry on them. “Then that accounts for everyone. Except you.” She frowned, recalling Adaline’s words of a moment ago. “Why are your parents furious with you? For defending me?”
“No, not truly anyway.” Adaline took her hands, sensing Miria’s confusion.
“They’re not even really angry with me, either; it’s just that I’m a problem now.
With so many guests at the wedding to witness what happened—Lord and Lady Eberhan, and Baron Filbert, and others—my parents fear that they’ll never be able to marry me off due to the scandal.
And while I’m pleased about this, they’re talking of sending me to a convent and saying serving the church is the only thing left for me, and I refuse to wear those horrible dresses and spend my days serving men without even getting anything nice out of the deal for it, and so I packed some things and ran here and—”
Miria kissed her. She didn’t really have the strength to kiss her with as much force as she did, but happiness and relief pushed her through the exhaustion, and then Adaline kissed her back and Miria could just follow her lead.
She swayed slightly when they broke apart, and she gripped Adaline to say upright.
“Are you going to be all right?” Adaline asked.
“I’m never going to let you go again.” Miria breathed deeply, and the scent of honeysuckle made her whole body tingle. “You are perfect, and I missed you, and I refuse to let you go to a convent, too.”
Adaline smiled tentatively. “So I can stay here for a bit?”
“Did you not hear me? You can’t leave. Well, unless you really want to. Then I suppose I’d let you, but please don’t.”
Adaline squealed and embraced Miria again, and Miria didn’t bother trying to hold herself upright this time. Adaline was her rock, and Miria was not ashamed to want her support as much as Adaline needed hers. “I won’t leave. I promise.”
“You’ll be miserable here,” Miria warned her when she could breathe again. “No servants. No fancy dresses. No feasts or balls.”
Adaline made a dismissive noise and held up a finger as she spoke.
“I’m learning to cook and garden myself, and Tuli helps with chores.
” A second finger. “I can wear whatever I please, and Tuli is a wonderful sparring partner, and you promised to make me a magical cloak like yours this winter, which is more exciting than any normal dress.” A third finger.
“Balls are full of deadly social sparring and the need to dance with leering men. I have no use for them when I can sing to keep you entertained instead, and we can dance together anytime we want.” She lowered her fingers and grasped Miria’s hands.
“But most importantly, I have you, and you’ll have me as my wild, unladylike self.
There’s nothing else I could want.” She paused. “I mean, except one thing.”
“Which is?” Miria was already making a mental list of all the things she would need if Adaline (and Pearl) were to move in for good.
Adaline grinned. “To kiss you again and to never stop.”