Wynter sat in a chair near the window of a cozy sitting room. A fire snapped on the hearth. He could hear the rhythmic click of Colette's knitting needles as she worked. She was on the other side of the room beside the fire, giving him plenty of space.
True to his word, Wynter had gone out riding, but only for a little while. When he'd finally emerged from his bath and regained feeling in his limbs, the sun was already setting. He wanted to be back before the moon rose, so he didn't miss his next visitor.
Like his parents, this visitor was never admitted into the house. That didn't stop her from coming almost every other day. Wynter scanned the gates of the grounds, waiting for them to open.
Perhaps she wouldn't come today. He told himself he wouldn't be disappointed if she didn't. That was what he wanted, wasn't it? He wanted her to give up on him and go on with her life. Still, a sliver of pain crept into Wynter's heart as he pondered the thought. And a part of him, the part that knew who and what she really was, wondered if he'd truly let her go when she did stop coming.
"It's cold out tonight," Colette remarked. "Perhaps you should ask her in when she gets here."
"If she gets here," Wynter corrected. "And it's cold every night. It's cold every day. It's always cold here."
"Well, it's colder than normal," Colette chuckled. "And she'll come. She always does."
"I wish she wouldn't."
"You're a very bad liar, Wyn."
"I know." He straightened as a slender figure appeared at the gates.
The first set of guards let her pass. She made her way up the path and a smile crossed her round red lips. Her mouth moved as she spoke to the guards at Wynter's front door. She sat down on the marble railing of the staircase, as she always did. She pulled the hood of her cloak down, and smoothed her hair. Hair that was black as night. Blacker than Melantha's had been, and longer and straighter too.
Wynter studied her, though he'd long ago memorized her features. They had introduced themselves to each other just before Melantha kidnapped him. Wynter's hand fell to his pocket, where a note from her was kept. She'd slipped it into his pocket the very first time they ran into each other. They hadn't spoken that time. The note contained only two words. Words that she had explained when he saw her after destroying Melantha.
Thank you.
Elodie Rohese lifted her gaze and Wynter caught a glimpse of crystal blue eyes and flushed cheeks. A moment later, Elodie, or Ellie, as she had asked him to call her, returned her attention to the guards at her side.
The younger of the two guards, Lev Baird, grinned brightly as he spoke to Ellie. He raked his fingers through dark brown hair, his blue eyes twinkling. Lev was a decent male. He was ruggedly handsome, with a faded scar that ran over his left eye. Wynter had seen females lose their minds over that scar. It always reminded him that his would make any female sick.
Wynter swallowed the instincts that gripped him as Lev hooked a finger beneath Ellie's chin. She tilted her head out of reach and Lev raised his hands in surrender. A part of Wynter wished Ellie would just give in to Lev's advances. Maybe then, she would forget about him. The other part of him thought he might tear Lev's throat out if he touched Ellie again.
"You're going to break the glass if you glare at it like that any longer," Colette called. Wynter blinked, relaxing his face. "If you want her, you should say so. You don't have any right to look like that otherwise."
"I know," Wynter murmured.
But he couldn't help it. He could barely control the instincts that told him to follow her home when she left, to make sure she got there safely. The instincts that wanted him to make sure Lev knew no other male could ever claim her. The instincts that told him to bring her inside. To talk to her. To really get to know her. To let himself feel for her.
He'd felt those instincts since the first day he laid eyes on her, walking the streets of Nivis with her three young charges at her side. Back then, Wynter had ignored the instincts because Ellie showed no sign of sharing them, and who was he to spring something like that on a female he'd never even met?
Now, he kept the knowledge to himself because he was undeserving of her. He was tarnished, broken, and disgusting. She was... She was his dream. A dream he could see, but never reach. A dream that would forever be beyond his grasp. A dream that could never become reality, thanks to Melantha and all that she had forced him to do.
Wynter stomped down his disappointment when Ellie finally rose to leave. She handed a folded letter to the elder guard, Cryus Hawthorne, Colette's husband. Ellie tugged her hood up and started back down the path. Wynter rose, ready to shadow her.
"I'll take the letter to your room," Colette said. Wynter dipped his chin and winnowed.
❅•~❅~•❅
Elodie purposefully walked slow as she made her way home. She was dreading reaching the house and putting her cousins to bed. No doubt Mina would ask all sorts of questions about where she'd been. Micah would refuse to get ready for bed and throw a fit until his father, Elodie's Uncle Ebner, yelled at her for letting him make such a racket. Only the youngest of her cousins, Mitsi, would quietly obey.
Elodie glanced over her shoulder, spotting a flash of pale blue light. Wynter was following her again. She smiled. At one point, she'd thought his actions were strange. However, she now realized that he was just making sure she got home safely, without causing discomfort to himself. She wished he would just offer to walk with her, rather than follow her, but she wouldn't try to pressure him into doing so. She didn't mind his distant presence. It did make her feel safer.
Elodie tipped her head back, drawing in a long draught of crisp night air. Her breath frosted in a small cloud beyond her lips. She drew the folds of her thick cloak closer to her body with a slight shiver. Sometimes, living in the Winter Court was difficult. Her late mother was originally from the Autumn Court and Elodie had inherited her warm body temperature, which made it harder for her to adjust to the coolness of the Winter Court. It was easier for her than it had been for her mother, of course, but it was still difficult.
Elodie sighed, looking back again. Wynter was nowhere in sight, though she knew he was still there. That meant he knew she'd spotted him. Dismay pricked her mind and she sighed again. It was hard, attempting to help someone who thought they were beyond it, but she would keep trying. Even before Wynter had been freed, she promised that she would help him. Not because she had to, but because she wanted to.
She wanted to for both their sakes. They had spent months just looking at each other at first. They were both shy, so neither of them tried to introduce themself to the other. Despite that, Wynter had gone out of his way to show her kindness. Sometimes it was a smile. Other times, it was a small gift conjured from snow and ice. Most often, Wynter had just interacted with the children, putting them in good moods and making her life a little easier.
Because of that, Elodie had written him a note and determined to give it to him along with her name. They'd ran into each other unexpectedly though, and all Elodie could do was slip the note in his pocket while he helped her up. They hadn't said a word to each other then, either.
When the day they first spoke to each other finally came, Elodie had hoped that meant something might begin to progress between them. What, she didn't know. But then, Wynter had been kidnapped by Melantha, a necromancer who was bent on conquering Prythian. She'd done unspeakable things to Wynter and others. Made them do unspeakable things for her. And when Wynter was finally free, he was no longer the male Elodie had come to recognize.
She missed seeing that male. She'd never had the chance to truly know him, so Elodie was doing everything in her power to try to help Wynter find that version of himself again. If he couldn't, she wanted to help him find the version of himself that he could be instead. Not the male who sat alone in a dark house, talking to no one, and feeling nothing worth feeling.
Elodie reached the front steps of the Rohese home. She hesitated, glancing over her shoulder. There was still no sign of Wynter. Perhaps he'd left already. "Goodnight, Wyn," she called, hoping he was around to hear. Elodie crept into the house silently.
Voices came from the front sitting room, meaning her aunt and uncle were still awake. Elodie hung her cloak on a hook with several others and hurried to the stairs, gathering her skirts up to keep them from swishing. She ran up the twenty steps, skipping numbers five, seven, and twelve. She'd memorized which steps creaked ages ago, when she first started sneaking out to visit Wynter.
Elodie turned down the hall at the landing and made her way into Mina and Mitsi's room. Mitsi sat on her bed, playing with her favorite stuffed toy fox, Bongo. She lifted her pale head and smiled. "Ellie! I put my pajamas on by myself! Look!" Mitsi stood and hopped on her bed, throwing her arms out wide so Elodie could see her nightgown.
"So you did," Elodie replied. She reached Mitsi's bedside and hastily buttoned the ones Mitsi hadn't. "Did you brush your teeth and wash your face?"
Mitsi nodded. "Bongo's too." Elodie touched the white fox's face. It was wet. She grimaced but gave a soft laugh. "He wouldn't open his mouth," Mitsi huffed.
"Naughty Bongo." Elodie pulled back the covers on Mitsi's bed. The small girl flopped down and let herself be tucked in. "Goodnight, Mitsi."
"Night, Ellie." Misti cuddled Bongo close to her chest and squeezed her eyes shut.
Elodie glanced at Mina. "Ready for bed, Mina?"
"You're late. Father says we're supposed to be in bed by nine-thirty," Mina answered. "And you smell like those males again. Father won't be happy if I tell him you snuck out." Elodie squared her shoulders. "Give me ten silver marks and I won't tell him."
"I have a better idea. Keep my secret, and I won't tell him that you kissed Devon Rune three days ago." Mina's head snapped up and she gawked at Elodie. "That's not appropriate for a thirteen year old female, is it? Uncle Ebner will be very displeased with you."
Mina frowned, anger flashing through her eyes. She rolled off the bed and slid her nightgown on. Elodie left the room as soon as she was under her covers. She headed to Micah's, ready to face whatever her troublesome cousin had planned. Elodie pushed the door open, then yelped as something cold and slimy spilled onto her.
Micah laughed from his bed. Elodie stared at her arms in disgust. She was covered in muddy slush. "You'd better clean that up before Mother and Father come to check on us," he snickered. "Clean yourself too. Mother won't be happy if she finds out you ruined another dress."
Elodie bit back a sharp retort and picked up the bucket that had fallen from above his door. Tears smarted beneath her eyelashes. She blinked them away. Elodie bent and scooped the mud back into the bucket, gathering up as much as she could with her hands.
I will not cry, she told herself. I will not. That will only encourage him. No response. No reaction. You just exist. I will not cry. I will not. And she didn't. Not until she'd finished cleaning up the mess and retreated to her own room. Then, she couldn't stop the tears from falling.