Thread of Ash and Fire

Ch. 28: The Best Piece of Me

Isolde thrust on boots.

She was vaguely aware of Malissa calling her name, of Axel saying something about being careful, but she didn't care. Julian. Julian was here. She pushed open the door, half-stumbling down the frozen hill. Cold wind raked its fingers through her hair, and she laughed out loud, the sound carrying above the barren fields and farmhouses.

Julian limped up the hill, dark curls whipping around his face. Isolde called his name, and his head snapped up. He stopped.

"Isolde?"

Tears stung her eyes. "Jules."

They collided. She burrowed her head into the crook of his shoulder. Was she shaking? She felt like she was. Julian rocked her over and over again, murmuring words into her hair. She felt like her bones were breaking and reforming. Like every piece of herself was dissolving. They were shadows in a snow globe, the snow flurries shaken up by invisible hands.

"Where's your coat?" Julian demanded.

A laugh escaped through her chattering teeth. "I forgot it."

He pulled back. "You must be freezing."

"You're limping," Isolde said.

Julian cupped her face. "I'm okay."

She searched his gaze. "You're really okay?"

He was here. Jules. The realization was dizzying. Snowflakes dusted his sooty eyelashes, catching on his chapped mouth and the raised collar of his jacket. Her hand went to the ring at her neck — a habitual, steadying gesture — and his throat bobbed.

"You're wearing it," Julian said.

Isolde held his gaze. "I haven't taken it off. Not once."

Julian leaned forward, his warm mouth ghosting her forehead. Isolde shivered as he kissed her temple, her nose, her cheek. She raised a tentative hand to his face, her fingers roaming over the unshaven stubble—

"Julian!" a voice called.

They turned. Malissa and Axel were stumbling through the snow, wrapped in fur cloaks and hats. Malissa had a carving knife in one hand. She caught Julian in a fierce hug, and then smacked him over the head.

"For Lestia's sake, get inside," Malissa hissed, ushering them towards the door. "Are you mad? Someone could see you."

They piled into the barn. Axel put on the kettle while Malissa clucked over Julian's cuts and bruises, applying a nasty-looking salve that made Julian hiss through his teeth. Isolde sat beside him. She didn't realize they were holding hands until Julian squeezed her fingers.

"Did anyone follow you?" Axel asked, setting down mugs of tea.

Julian shook his head. "The blizzard helped cover my tracks. I haven't seen anyone for miles."

Malissa crossed her arms. "You must know how this must look."

"I know," Julian said.

It took Isolde a moment to understand what Malissa was driving at, and when she did, her fingers tightened protectively. "Jules would never betray us. He sacrificed himself so that I could escape. He wouldn't—"

Julian held up a hand. "It's okay, Iz. Let me explain." He curled his hand around his tea, as if holding it to steady himself. "After Halson attacked the manor, he took me hostage. The bastard threw me in a carriage and tried to cart me back to Bardan. For a grand public execution, I can only imagine."

Bitterness dripped from his voice. Isolde squeezed harder.

Julian swirled his tea. "I realized that the journey was my only chance of escape, so I waited until nightfall and kicked the door down. I managed to throw myself out of the carriage at highspeed, which hurt like a motherfu—" He caught his father's eye. "Uh. Hurt really badly. But the fall broke most of my bindings, which was a real bonus."