Chapter 3
Greta was the only person in the village willing to take a chance on me when I arrived four years ago.
My education didn’t extend beyond what was expected of a woman of noble blood.
We were taught to be intelligent enough to hold a conversation but not educated enough to make a man feel inferior.
Landing a highly respected husband was the goal thrust upon noblewomen as soon as our first bleed began.
Activities were selected for us so that men would find us interesting but feminine.
Requesting to be an equestrian pushed that boundary, and my mother only agreed to let me do it if I also took up embroidery. I was purposely bad at embroidery.
When I arrived on the apothecary doorstep one rainy afternoon, drenched and defeated, with a weepy six-year-old and an empty coin purse, Greta immediately brought us in.
The knot of worry in my stomach unraveled when Greta said she was looking for an apprentice and would like to hire me for the job.
She insisted that my education was thorough, and she spent valuable time teaching me her trade.
I soaked it in, learning a skill that was dynamic and required logic beyond anything I was allowed to use in my youth.
My confidence soared, and the life I wanted for Cora and me pieced together with each passing month.
I was reminded that it was a life that we now had to flee once again.
I blew the grief from my lungs, reminding myself that this time, I had an invaluable skill set, and I would be able to support us wherever we landed.
I paused my pacing around the apothecary to avoid alerting Terren’s men of my cagey behavior. I fisted the leather of my packed satchel, waiting for Cora to arrive home from her schooling. If all went well, we would be in Gorstine by late tonight and then on our way to Brissil soon after.
Greta’s hand landed on my shoulder, jolting me. “Sorry to startle you, dear. I know you’re on edge.”
I blew out a breath. “It’s alright. Were Minsah’s brothers able to identify each of Terren’s men?”
“Indeed. They have notified Minsah of the best locations to station the women and where Alec should place his cart to get to the alley quickly without seeming suspicious. Everything should be in place within the hour. Will Cora arrive soon?”
“Any time now,” I replied, wringing my shaking hands.
Greta’s smile faded. “You and Cora have given me so much joy these past four years. Don’t you forget to write to me, or I’ll find you myself and box your ears!”
“We aren’t doing goodbyes yet, are we?” I asked with a trembling voice.
She nodded with a solemnness I had rarely seen from her. “Once Cora is here and things are in place, there will be no time for drawn-out sappiness. I want to do this now, as hard as it is.”
Her lash line pooled with droplets that glistened in the dim light of the apothecary.
Seeing her vulnerable when I was accustomed to her stubborn strength made my own eyes well with impending tears that I desperately withheld.
I never realized goodbyes could be so hard when I had previously found relief in leaving my life, and the people in it, behind.
I pulled Greta’s hand into mine. “Thank you for being the mother to me I always needed and for giving me the skills and knowledge to better myself and provide for Cora. You mean more to me than I can ever express.”
Greta’s warmth ignited as she pulled me into her embrace.
A hug so tight for such a tiny woman. A tear trailed down her cheek.
“I always wanted a child but believed Clotha wouldn’t weave that path for me.
But she did. You are the daughter I always wanted.
You and Cora are my family. Never forget that a family is not always forged by blood.
Sometimes, love is the only ingredient needed to bind us. ”
The creaking hinges of the apothecary front door drew us out of our tearful goodbyes. “Hi, Mom!” Cora skipped toward us as we loosened our embrace.
She looked remarkably like her father with her bronze skin, dark curly hair, and round cheeks.
His sense of humor and confidence wove seamlessly throughout her exuberant personality.
At times, I felt like I contributed little to her makeup.
Cora had my eyes, dimples, and a stubbornness that rivalled my own. Everything else was Micah.
“Greta!” Cora greeted, readily walking into Greta’s open arms.
Greta kissed the top of her head. “Cora, dear, your mother and I need to talk to you about something.”
Cora paused, her happy demeanor dimming around the edges. Her eyes slid warily to me as I thumbed the remaining tear off my cheek. “What’s wrong?”
Greta opened a jar of lavender and set it next to us.
I softly smiled as I ran my hands up her arms, resting them on her shoulders. “I want to start by saying I am beyond proud of who you are and love you to the moon and back. You have grown so much in this village.”
“Mom,” Cora cut me off and sighed. “Tell me.”
I released a deep breath, steadying myself for what I was to reveal.
The intensity of my beating heart suggested that I was anything but steady.
“Your grandmother has found us. She used her royal friendships and endless wealth to secure custody of you through the noble courts. She’s sent men to bring us back to Alwine Manor. ”
Cora looked between Greta and me, her face dropping.
“No! Mom, no. I can’t say goodbye to my friends, and we are starting to learn the constellations in school.
I can’t miss out! What about Greta? She needs us.
We need her!” she sputtered. “I don’t want to go back to Grandmother.
Please don’t let her take me.” The heartache and fear lingering in a child’s eyes were the most soul-crushing things to see.
Seeing it radiate from my own child could be used as a form of torture.
A torture that my mother was willingly inflicting, cutting my insides with her cruelty while I tried not to cry out in agony.
Hold it together for her.
“No, sweet girl.” My voice dropped, and I shifted my eyes around like Terren and his men could be hiding amongst the herbs and plants.
“We are going to escape. I won’t take you back there, but we must leave the village.
” Cora stiffened. “Just for the time being. When it is safe to do so, we will return.”
Cora chewed her bottom lip, eyes ricocheting between our faces. “Greta, are you coming with us?”
Greta tucked Cora’s loose curls behind her ear. “Oh, I would love to, but I am afraid the people of Olinbury need me here. Who else will care for our sick or injured if not me? We will write to each other, and I will come see you as soon as we safely can.”
Cora’s shoulders sagged, and her eyes welled with tears.
I pulled a forced smile from the depths of me. “Are you ready to go on another adventure, sweet girl?”
“I do like adventure,” she said with a soft coo, a corner of her mouth turned up. “When do we go? Should I go pack?”
I shook my head. “I have everything packed, and we leave within the hour. Go change into something you can wear for a long journey. We will have to move quickly and quietly tonight.”
Cora blew out a breath. “Alright,” she said. “Let’s do this.”
My returning smile was grim as Cora made her way to the back of the shop and bounded up the stairs, two at a time, to our rooms. The closely shelved glass bottles quietly clinked from the vibration.
If we were going to successfully get through this, I would need to borrow her bravery for a journey that was more dangerous than she realized.
The unknown was more thrilling for children.
Confidence of youth eventually gave way to wisdom and experience with age, herding in apprehension and doubt.
I would ensure that the fear I was drenched in would not seep into her.
The energy of the festival hummed more intensely as the day wore on.
The shops closed early so merchants could join in the festivities.
Crowds thickened, and the light of the day softened.
The robust smoke from the bonfires and the sticky-sweet crispness of perfectly ripened apples coated the air of the village.
The scents and sounds were almost as thick as the tension building inside me, like wet wool clinging to my skin, heavy and uncomfortable.
Cora and I anxiously waited for the signal to open the back door and get to Alec’s awaiting merchant wagon. Greta was stationed in the front window, hanging herbs to dry and cleaning the glass to keep up the appearance that an escape attempt was not about to take place.
“We got this, Mom,” Cora softly mumbled. Her small hand encased in my sweaty palm.
“Absolutely, sweet girl. Everything will work out.” Maybe if I said it with confidence, I would believe it too. My stomach, turning in anticipation, said otherwise. I gripped the leather strap of the satchel, angled across my torso, to keep from shaking.
Breathe, Rory.
A family heirloom, a change of clothes for each of us, an assortment of herbs and plants for emergencies, and a filled coin purse that Greta insisted on giving me were all I risked packing to flee. Light and smart.
Greta coughed twice from behind me. The signal. I couldn’t bring myself to look back at her, or the tears that threatened my composure would surely release. The only path now was forward.
With my breath caught in my throat, I opened the back door, squeezed Cora’s hand tightly, and stepped into the dark alleyway behind the apothecary.
We were two cloaked figures moving swiftly along the cobblestone toward the outline of a large wooden wagon with a canvas top.
A cacophony of voices and music from the festival mixed with the scent of spiced meat, fruit wine, and smoke as we reached the end of the alley.