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What did I have, if not my guilt? Would I be loyal, faithful to my wife, without it? Would I forget her?

Yet at the same time, I had detested myself for succumbing to these impulses that lasted for months after her death. Basking in my grief had made me lethargic. Only the sword, my service, and my kinship with the Royals had kept me sane back then. Nothing else had mattered.

Yet tonight, thinking of her, I felt only moderate bleakness.

The lumber maiden chewed on her lower lip, the beauty mark twitching. “If you don’t want to talk—”

“She was sincere and spirited,” I answered. “She feared horses but admired them from afar. She loved straw flowers and the color blue. She was eternal.”

The girl fell silent, swinging beside me, her bare feet kicking a cluster of brittle leaves. “What was her name?”

It took an immeasurable amount of daring for her to ask, and just as much for me to answer.

I had not voiced her name in more than a year.

I replied in a whisper, the fog swallowing it whole.

***

She stood before a mirror, holding a velvet dress in front of her body.

She was lithe, with honey waves brushing her shoulders, and when she smiled, a gap showed between her front teeth.

I adored that gap most of all.

My visit had been expected, so I hoped the pretty garment was meant for my arrival. I snuck behind her and covered her eyes. She jumped but relaxed quickly.

I grinned. “I have a favor to ask, my lady.”

She giggled. “And that would be, my lord?”

“Marry me.” She gasped as I pulled my hands away, turning her in my arms. I kissed her smiling lips. “Marry me, Robin.”

***

“Nicu sang at Robin’s funeral,” I told the lumber maiden.

A moment ago, I’d only just revealed my wife’s name to her. I hadn’t meant to say more than that, but with this girl, I often did the opposite of what I intended.

She listened to me reminisce about the flute of Nicu’s voice stirring the birches in the graveyard. I could not recall how I’d remained standing. Perhaps it had been my friend’s song, and the nearness of his mother and father, that kept me upright.

My comrades had not known what to say. I resented and gave thanks for that, wishing and not wishing for them to approach me with platitudes. They would not have asked the right questions about her, but they would have askedsomething.

Her Highness, Briar of Autumn, had understood. She had lost her father and blamed herself for years.

In private, I’d sobbed. In public, I’d driven myself into duties like iron to an anvil, refusing the Royals’ offer of a leave of absence.

Never again would I fail to protect another person.

Never again would I fail to predict a threat to my heart.

***

“Why do you want to design weapons?” I asked her.

On the grass by the creek, the girl glanced up from her sketch, discreetly angling it away from me. “I like combining timber with steel and iron; it’s a reminder that wood is fierce. I want to empower people.” She set down the parchment. “Why did you want to be a soldier?”

I planted myself beside her. “When I cross swords, it’s as though I’m flying, as though I’m able to reach anyone. I want to protect people.”