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“Oh, please, Papa?” asked Sigrid.

“That is very kind,” said Oskar to Davron. “Thank you.”

“Could you teach us more, Amelie?” asked Julie after taking a gulp of wine. “You can come to our cottage again.”

Amelie exchanged a tense glance with Davron. She could not, of course, visit the village. Not with Levissina baying for her blood.

“How about you accompany your father each week when he makes his delivery?” she asked. “We can practice then. Would that be alright?”

They nodded eagerly.

“I want to be the best sword fighter in all the land,” said Sigrid, holding her knife and slicing it through the air.

“Me too,” said Julie. “I want to kill the Dark One.”

The adults paused, wondering whether her words were cause for concern. The girls did not notice the adults’ apprehension. Julie and Sigrid continued eating and playing with the cutlery.

Amelie thought again of the reality facing the girls, who lived in a cursed village where a malevolent sorceress dwelled.

“You never know,” said Amelie, cutting into her quiche. “Maybe you shall. Gods know, you’ve got as good a chance as any of us,” she added, thinking of the sorceress’s supreme capabilities.

Davron was moody and distracted for the rest of the meal. Oskar was pensive as he ate, too. Julie and Sigrid filled the void, chatting about everything from the blacksmith forge to the hedge maze to the sword moves they’d learned.

When the time came for them to leave, the girls hugged Amelie. She and Davron waved goodbye as the family trundled down the driveway in the cart, the sun dipping low in the sky. Davron let out a great whoosh of breath.

“You survived,” said Amelie, turning to him.

“Barely.”

He grinned, his teeth flashing white in the hazy amber afternoon light.

“It was nice, admit it,” she said. “The food. The conversation. The flowers.”

He ran his fingers through her hair, which hung loose in waves. “Looking at you was nice. Being near you was nice. Listening to you speak was nice.”

Amelie blushed and batted his hand away. “I meant to ask why your grounds have no roses. There’s every other flower imaginable. Do they not grow here, even with the enchantments?”

He shrugged. “I have one or two roses. Let me show you.”

CHAPTER 19

Amelie smelled the rose garden before she saw it.

Located in a quiet pocket of the grounds beyond a row of fir trees, a high stone wall fenced the garden. The sweet, musky scent of the blooms wafted over the top, enhanced by the warmth of the afternoon sun. Davron opened the gate and Amelie stepped inside.

Rose bushes grew everywhere, red and magenta and orange and lilac. A paved path wound through the garden beds, and wooden bench seats dotted the grassy clearings. The scent of hundreds of roses in full bloom was intoxicating. She went to the nearest bush, buried her face in a red rose, and inhaled.

“This is incredible,” she said. “I could stay here all day if I had books.”

“Well, you can do that.”

He stood back, a brooding figure among the riotous color and sweet scent of the flowers.

“Is anything the matter?” asked Amelie, straightening up. “You seemed distracted during lunch.”

“Nothing of your concern,” he said in a firm but kind voice.

She took his hand and led him to a bench, where they sat, the perfume of the roses encircling them.