Page 3 of Only in Moonlight (The Moonlit Court #1)

Emmeline

“ W e don’t have enough for meat,” my mother said, looking at the pitiful remains of our tiny coin purse.

“That’s alright.” I forced cheer into my voice. “Maybe I can catch a rabbit later. And here, let me carry that.”

I took the sack of barley from her. While the healers had cured my mother’s illness, they couldn’t cure old age.

Not that my mother was very old, but a life of hardship had taken its toll on her body.

Instead of walking, she hobbled, and her shaky hands kept her from doing needlework.

People looked at her and saw a wrinkled old woman in a tattered dress; I saw the kindest, most wonderful person in the world.

“Thank you, my darling.” She rubbed her lower back and gazed around the street.

Market day was as busy as ever, the crowd’s chattering even louder than the bleating sheep and clucking chickens.

Stalls offered everything: eggs, honey, sacks of wool, leather shoes, baskets, nails, and cooking pots.

The rich could buy fine jewelry and spices from faraway kingdoms. My mother and I could scarcely afford barley, peas, and a bit of salt.

“Should we head home?” I asked.

Most people stayed at the market all day, but it was pointless to linger when we couldn’t buy anything else.

“Yes…” she said absently, stopping in front of a baker’s stall. Her eyes lingered on the custard tarts. I knew they were her favorite.

“Get lost,” the baker spat at us, red face twisting in a snarl. “We don’t give charity here. Go loiter somewhere else.”

My mother ducked her head and started walking away, but I charged right up to the front of the stall.

“We were just looking.” I slammed my hands on the table area, getting right in his face. “You don’t have to be such an ass about it.”

“You’re blocking the view of paying customers.” He grabbed the long-handled wooden paddle he used to put bread in the oven and raised it menacingly. “Make tracks, or you’ll regret it.”

“Emmeline.” My mother tugged on my arm. “Come on. It’s not worth fighting over.”

It wouldn’t be much of a fight. The baker might be bigger than me, but I was faster and meaner. Still, my mother was right. It wasn’t worth the trouble. I shot the baker one last glare and let her pull me away.

We left through the town gates, and I tried not to inhale as we passed the putrid decapitated heads placed on pikes—a lovely welcome for visitors.

It was a chilling reminder of what would happen to me if anyone discovered my shapeshifting magic.

Half the heads belonged to a werewolf pack, with a hedge witch and ordinary criminals making up the rest.

The heads weren’t the only sign of death here, just the newest. Blackened ruins of houses lay around us, left over from when the Netherworld armies had swept across the countryside half a year ago.

I should feel bad about it, but without the demons slaughtering people and leaving a shortage of workers, my mother and I would’ve never landed the “respectable” jobs as laborers on a farm.

We followed the long, winding road until the town and its ruins disappeared behind us, going past hilly fields and farmland, green mountains rising in the distance.

It was half a day’s walk back to the farm, so we didn’t rush.

A cloudy sky tempered the sun’s heat, allowing a pleasant coolness to settle on the dusty track.

Wildflowers, purple and gold, dotted the roadside, and birds chirped as they fluttered from field to tree.

It didn’t seem fair that a kingdom ruled by a tyrant who encouraged severed heads as decoration could have such beautiful scenery.

We kept hiking toward the southern edge of a sprawling old forest. As the road cut through the trees, my mother’s hobble had slowed more than usual, and a sheen of sweat covered her homely face.

“Time for a rest?” I asked.

“Yes. That sounds nice.”

I reached into my apron pocket and pulled out the custard tart I’d stolen while distracting the baker with my yelling. “Here. Eat this.”

“Emmeline!” My mother looked down the road like she expected to see the baker charging after us. “What were you thinking?”

“That the baker was an asshole and his tarts were probably overpriced.”

“You could have been caught. We can’t afford the fine for thievery.”

I bit back a sigh. We’d had this argument a thousand times. “I’m too good to get caught, Maman. You know that. And I didn’t take any big risks today.”

“Risks?” Her tired hunch vanished as she drew herself up in fury. “As in more than one? What else did you steal?”

I scratched my cheek. “That’s not what I meant.”

She gave me a look as hard as stone, and I gave up. I made a living lying and stealing, but I could never fool my mother.

By the time I’d turned out my pockets and emptied my sleeves, I’d presented her with two apples, a sachet of cinnamon, rope netting, some linen cloth, and five types of cheese.

My mother put a hand to her head and moaned. “Forget the fine. They’re going to put your head on a pike with the rest of those poor souls.”

“If you don’t want the tart…”

She clutched it to her chest, looking outraged.

Chuckling, I led her to a soft patch of grass on the side of the road. A stream gurgled somewhere ahead of us, and the trees rustled in a light breeze. My mother slowly ate the tart, savoring each bite and closing her eyes as she chewed.

“How is it?” I asked.

“Incredible. God and Goddess, part of me hoped it would taste terrible so that baker would go out of business.”

“I guess basic human decency isn’t part of the recipe.”

She smiled, and we enjoyed the afternoon in silence for a while.

“Emmeline…” she said seriously. “We’re supposed to be making a fresh start here. With honest work.”

“If you want a true fresh start, let me go to the viscount’s manor house.

I’ll steal his fortune, and we can move south.

” I scooted closer to her across the grass and took her hands in mine.

“I’ll buy you a cottage. One with vineyards.

We’ll hire other people to do the work, and you can rest for once in your life. ”

She pulled her hands away. “It’s too dangerous, my darling. What if something goes wrong?”

“I’ll plan it out so nothing can go wrong. If I can steal from the Moonlit Court, I can steal from some crusty old viscount. We barely have enough to eat, Maman.”

She smiled sadly. “I’d rather eat bugs and weeds for the rest of my life than lose you.”

I opened my mouth but found myself too choked up to speak.

My mother sighed. “If we’re still struggling in another month, I’ll find another brothel—”

“No.” I regained my voice. “We agreed you wouldn’t do that anymore.”

“We agreed you wouldn’t steal anymore either.”

“That’s different.”

“How?”

“Because I can make us rich! You can barely make us anything. They’ll only pay a few coins for you.”

She winced, and my hand clamped over my mouth, but it was too late.

“Shit, I— I’m sorry, Maman. That came out wrong. I didn’t mean—”

“It’s all right,” she said wearily.

I hadn’t meant it like that. Those pigs at the brothel didn’t know her worth, but I did. I’d just wanted to convince her that my way was better.

We sat there, my utter assholery weighing on the silence until I couldn’t bear the shame any longer.

“I’m going to catch a fish.” I shot to my feet, seizing the net I’d stolen. “We need meat, right? I’ll be right back. You… just rest here.”

And I ran off like a coward.

My feet barely touched the moss-covered ground as I fled, sunlight filtering through the canopy overhead in broken shafts that dappled the forest floor. My heart thudded as if I’d run a mile, and my face felt feverishly hot.

“You dung-brained ninnyhammer,” I muttered to myself.

I’d made my mother feel worthless. She’d only gone to work at the brothel because she had a daughter to feed, and I’d thrown her sacrifice in her face like a damned ingrate.

Apologize again when you come back , I told myself. With fish. Bring her lots of fish.

I emerged from the trees, squinting in the sudden sunlight.

The stream lay downhill ahead of me, cascading around rocks and fallen logs.

In the distance, I heard a low rumble of a waterfall but didn’t venture off to find it.

I’d gotten far enough from the road already, and getting lost would make a terrible day even worse.

I started climbing down toward the stream when a shadow passed over me, too big to belong to a bird. I looked up—and felt like I’d been punched in the chest.

A pegasus swooped down from the sky, white as snow with wings longer than I was tall. You didn’t see pegasi in the kingdom of Thallence. Magical animals had been hunted to extinction within our borders.

The animal didn’t scare me, but the rider… Shimmering silver armor, a billowing cape of midnight blue, sword sheathed at his hip. That was a knight from the Moonlit Court.

They’d found me.