Chapter 14

Alden

AURORA WENT INTO THE VILLAGE for tea with my sister, so I’ve got the cottage to myself—mostly. Harrison has been lingering, watching me from windowsills and sunlit stairs. Sometimes he’ll share the couch with me, but he still seems unsure of my presence, even if he did let me scratch his chin the other day. That’s why I’m surprised when he looks up at me from the doorway and lets out a tiny meow.

I look over at him from where I’m reading in the rocking chair by the window. “What is it?” I ask.

He glances in the direction of the door, then meets my eyes and lets out another pointed meow.

“Oh, you want to go out.” I dog-ear the page I’m on, then set the book down. I push to my feet and cross the parlor to the foyer. Harrison runs to the door ahead of me, and as soon as I open it, he darts out and disappears. Aurora usually leaves a window open so he can come in and out, but she must’ve forgotten.

Which gives me an idea.

Maybe I’ll earn Harrison’s affection yet.

Mind already churning with ideas, I’m just turning to close the door when I spot bright red out in the trees. Pausing, I narrow my eyes. What could—

Oh.

It’s that knight, the one Aurora told me about.

Rowan Highcliff.

And he’s walking up the lane, red hair hanging loose like the mane of a wild stallion, looking very much like he’s come here with clear intent.

When he looks up and sees me standing in the doorway, however, the expression on his face shifts, and he comes to a standstill.

Neither of us says anything. I stand in the doorway, hand still on the door handle, and he stands in the sunlight just outside, squinting a bit as he looks up at me.

Suddenly, I’m picturing Aurora in his arms, his mouth on hers.

And I know this is going to take some getting used to.

“Uh, hello,” he finally says in way of breaking the silence.

“Afternoon.”

Greetings out of the way, we lapse into silence once more.

Rowan glances to his left, in the direction of the garden, and I can only assume he’s looking for Aurora.

“She’s not here,” I say, trying to keep the gruff edge out of my voice. If Aurora cares for this man, I’m going to at least put a little effort into not scaring him off.

He is a knight though. The likes of me shouldn’t ruffle his gleaming silver feathers.

“Oh.” He seems to deflate a little. “In that case, I’ll—”

“Would you like to come in?”

Shock spreads across his face, and I’m pretty surprised by the invitation myself. I didn’t used to let anyone into my home, but now here I am, inviting another man into Aurora’s cottage while she’s not even here.

Not that she’ll mind. She’d probably be delighted to see the two of us crammed into the chairs at her tiny kitchen table, sipping tea from the floral teacups she’s so fond of.

The surprise on Rowan’s face slowly shifts to contemplation. He narrows his eyes—which are green, like Aurora’s—and then lets out a small sigh.

“All right.”

He doesn’t sound excited about it, and I can’t say I’m too fond of the idea either, but I did tell Aurora I was okay with this—the least I can do is try .

I step back, making room for Rowan in the narrow doorway, and he angles his body carefully so as to pass by without brushing me.

Seems the feeling is mutual, then.

When I close the door, the cottage gets quiet, and it feels a lot smaller than it usually does.

“The kitchen’s through there.” I point to the left, and Rowan nods once before moving in that direction. I follow after him, and when I step into the kitchen, Rowan is eyeing everything, his gaze sweeping across Aurora’s measuring spoons and baking goods, the tiny jars of herbs and spices crowding the shelves about the counter. “You like tea?”

His gaze flicks to mine, and he gives me a small nod.

“Take a seat.” I gesture to the table, and he obliges.

Aurora is usually the one to make us tea, and standing at the counter, staring at the twinkling glass jars adorning the shelves, I’m suddenly overwhelmed. I know she makes lavender tea—she always smells like lavender—but I don’t know what else she mixes in, if anything. Sometimes she tastes of marshmallow and licorice when I kiss her, but I certainly don’t trust myself to get that mixture right. I’ll opt for something safe.

Reaching out, I pull two jars from the shelf, then turn to face the knight. He’s sitting straight and tall at the table, like he’s waiting for royalty to arrive rather than being served tea in a little cottage kitchen. The image almost makes me laugh, but I hold it back.

“Lavender or mint?” I hold the two jars up for him to see.

“Mint,” he says immediately.

Turning, I fetch two teacups from another shelf, then grind a few leaves with Aurora’s mortar and pestle. We almost always keep a kettle on the fire, and there’s just enough water left for me to pour two cups of tea. The steam rises into my eyes and around my face, bathing me in the scent of mint, and I breathe it in, trying to let it calm me. I still have no idea why I invited this guy in or what I’m going to say to him, but I think it’s what Aurora would want.

Teacups steaming, I take them to the table. Rowan accepts his with a nod of thanks, and then I settle myself down into the chair across from him.

Silence descends once more. I stare at a bundle of herbs hanging from a hook near the basin while the knight stares out the window in the door leading to the garden. The tea is too hot to drink, so we can’t even use that as a way to break up the thick tension settling over the kitchen like a heavy quilt over a bed in midwinter.

I’m just starting to think this may have been a bad decision when Rowan clears his throat. He adjusts his posture, sitting up straighter, and his eyes cut to me.

“Aurora said you . . . spoke.”

Well, at least he’s getting right to it. I’m not a man of many words, and I sure didn’t want to spend the few I have dancing around the obvious topic at hand. Aurora told me he came by while I was building shelves at the library, so his words don’t catch me off guard.

“We did.”

“And . . . you’re okay with it?”

I don’t answer right away. Instead, I look down into my cup, watch the way the steam still rises into the shafts of sunlight streaming through the door and window.

Since first speaking with Aurora about it, I’ve turned the conversation over and over in my head, but no matter how I look at it, I always come to the same conclusion.

“Aurora isn’t mine , not truly,” I say slowly, though I will always consider her my little witch. “I don’t own her, and goddess knows I can’t control her.”

That makes Rowan smile, just barely. Aurora may be a dainty little thing, soft and supple and full of laughter, but weak willed she is not.

“She can do as she pleases.” I hold his stare. “With whomever she wishes.”

Rowan sits forward suddenly, bracing his forearms on the table. He’s lucky I fixed it, or else that hot tea would’ve gone all over his lap. “But doesn’t it make you uncomfortable?” he asks. “Knowing she’s with another man?”

I chew on his words for a moment, then sigh. “I suppose. But only because I’m not used to the idea yet.” I trace a whorl in the tabletop with my finger, remembering how Aurora bandaged my thumb when I struck it with that nail. The memory makes me smile. It was the first time I kissed her, the first time I touched her and held her in my arms. I’ve explored her skin many times since, but that moment will always stand out in my mind.

Pulling my focus back to the present, I level my eyes on Rowan once more. “Why? Does it bother you?”

He opens his mouth, then pauses, closing it once more. His eyes narrow, seeming to study me, and then he leans back in his chair and pushes his hands through his hair. It’s long, like mine, but whereas mine is thick and curly, his looks like water, albeit red .

“I don’t know,” he says. “At first, I didn’t like the idea one bit.” He drags his hands down his face, then leans forward to prop his arms on the table again. “But I like the idea of losing Aurora even less.”

Without meaning to, I nod. Because that’s exactly how I feel. I think I’d rather share her with all of Faunwood than lose her entirely—if that’s what she wanted, I’d at least try... for her.

“So, is that what you came over here to say?” I ask. “To tell her you’ll give it a chance?”

A moment of silence passes between us. And before Rowan can answer my question, the door in the foyer creaks open, and our eyes go wide.

Because our little witch is home.