Page 9

9

T he morning light sliced through the small bedroom window, prying Vivienne from a deadweight slumber. A dull, merciless pounding settled behind her eyes, and her mouth felt like parched sandpaper. She pushed upright, only to have her stomach lurch in protest, a wave of nausea threatening to claim her.

Her memories surfaced in fragments, scattered like shards of broken glass. Nothing fit together quite right.

She glanced down at herself. She donned the same navy gown she’d worn to the audience with the King, now crumpled and wrinkled beyond recognition. Gone was the bodice Lewis had cut away during her panic. Her fingers traced the mess of her tangled hair, still knotted with rogue pins. A flicker of alarm jolted through her. My mother’s ivory comb. Where is it? Vivienne inhaled sharply, then her eyes landed on the dressing table. There it sat, pristine, untouched. Her shoulders sagged in relief.

The muffled sounds of movement drifted from below. She dragged herself upright, her limbs lead-heavy, and trudged toward the commotion.

Lewis sat at the dining table, utterly composed, a clear opposite to the disaster Vivienne resembled. He had laid out a modest spread, a steaming cup of coffee, a meager slice of dry toast, and a spoonful of honey. She hated how infuriatingly fine he looked.

He had changed clothes. Fresh linen, crisp waistcoat. Even his face was smooth-shaven, a picture of effortless composure. Meanwhile, she reeked of sweat, ale, and something far worse she wasn’t ready to identify. With a groan, she collapsed into the chair across from him.

"Well, look who's returned to the land of the living," Lewis chirped, his lips quirking to the side.

Vivienne shielded her eyes from the sunlight and muttered, "How much did I drink last night?"

Lewis sipped his coffee leisurely, as if relishing her suffering. "Remember how mathematics isn’t my specialty?"

She blinked slowly. "So a lot, huh?"

He shrugged. "Once I lost count of your drinks, I stopped mine. Figured one of us should remain functional."

She winced, lifting the coffee to her lips. "I don’t remember much."

"Probably for the best." He leaned back in his chair, looking far too entertained. "You sang, danced, and—" he smirked, "treated the entire tavern to a spontaneous lecture on historical architecture."

Vivienne paused mid-sip. "Singing and dancing?"

"Mm-hmm."

"Was I any good?"

Lewis snorted. "You certainly thought you were."

Vivienne set her coffee down. Her eyes narrowed in confusion. "How did I get back here?"

Lewis crossed his arms. "I told you I could carry you up the stairs. And that was after carrying you home from The Pelican."

She stared at him. Did he seriously carry me across half the city? The Pelican is at least a mile, maybe two, from here. So… gardening does pay off.

Vivienne sighed, rubbing her temple. "Well, thank you. And… sorry."

Lewis raised his coffee in mock salute.

Her eyes drifted to the mantle clock. She squinted, forcing her brain to process the numbers.

Her stomach dropped. "It’s noon?" she gasped. "We leave in less than twenty-four hours, and you let me oversleep?"

Lewis’ brows shot up. "Let you?" He scoffed. "Viv, neither storm nor goddess could have woken you before now."

She buried her head in her hands. Being this hungover when there were a thousand things left to do was an absolute disaster.

Her head snapped up, the motion making her head swim. "Oh, my gods—Briar!"

Lewis leaned back, unconcerned. "Already handled. Picked her up this morning. She’s at the bakery, where Johanna is currently stuffing her with enough pastries to put on ten pounds before she lets her leave."

Vivienne exhaled, relieved.

She hesitated. "Did you tell her about…?"

Lewis shook his head. "I figured that should come from you."

Vivienne nodded, grateful.

Lewis continued, "I explained everything to Johanna, though. She agreed to look after Briar. Didn’t even hesitate."

Vivienne’s chest tightened with emotion.

"We don’t deserve her," Lewis added.

"We really don’t," Vivienne murmured.

She stretched her arms behind her and cringed. The movement intensified the odor clinging to her skin. Gods above. I can’t believe Lewis was willing to sit so close to me.

"I need to clean up before I see Briar," she muttered, already standing. "Meet me at Johanna’s in an hour?"

Lewis drained the last of his coffee. "I’ll be there."

* * *

Vivienne stepped onto the bustling street, the late afternoon sun warming the cobblestones beneath her boots. Her body felt lighter, refreshed. Her headache dulled to a whisper instead of a relentless drum. But the relief was short-lived. A familiar nervous energy curled in her stomach, tangling with anticipation. She had spent months apart from Briar before, but never like this. Never with an impossible deadline hanging over them.

The tinkling chime of the bakery’s bright blue door rang out as she approached. Briar burst onto the street, her dark curls bouncing in the golden light.

"Vivienne!" she cried, her voice bright and unrestrained, her smile radiant.

A matching grin spread across Vivienne’s face. She closed the distance between them in seconds, arms outstretched. Briar barely had time to brace herself before Vivienne swept her up, lifting her off the ground in a crushing embrace.

"Okay, okay! Put me down!" Briar giggled, squirming in her grip.

Vivienne reluctantly let go, stepping back to take her in properly. She memorized every detail—the freckles dusted across her nose, the sun-kissed glow in her deep brown eyes, the way excitement radiated from her like warmth from a fire.

"I'm so happy you're here," Vivienne whispered, pulling her in again, pressing her face into Briar’s curls. "I missed you so much."

The bakery door creaked open again, and Lewis stepped outside. His half-smile did little to mask the heaviness in his eyes. Vivienne knew that look. He was bracing himself for what came next, the moment when joy would give way to devastation.

Briar, oblivious, launched into a rapid-fire monologue, words tumbling over one another. "I've been telling Lewis about everything I learned this summer! He says I can visit the castle gardens, and the greenhouse has some of the plants I worked with in Eboncrest. Did you know that if you want to be a chemist, you have to apprentice for, like, a million years?"

Vivienne forced a chuckle, trying to match Briar’s enthusiasm, even as her heart ached. "A million years, huh? That’s a long time."

"Feels like it!" Briar beamed.

Vivienne listened, nodding along as Briar chattered, letting her words wash over her like a familiar melody. She wanted to hold onto this moment, this unburdened happiness, just a little longer.

"Hey," she interrupted gently, squeezing Briar’s hand. "It’s hot today. What do you say we go talk at Rocky Beach? The sea breeze would feel nice."

Briar tilted her head, eyes narrowing. "You always said I wasn’t old enough to go to Rocky Beach."

Vivienne offered a sheepish smile. "Well, today, I’m making an exception because I haven’t seen you in so long."

Briar considered this, then grinned. "Let’s go.”

The ocean air carried the scent of salt and sun-warmed stone. Waves lapped at the shore, their steady rhythm at odds with the storm brewing in Vivienne’s chest.

Briar flopped onto the smooth rock bench, breathless from the quick walk. She resumed her endless stream of stories, painting vivid pictures of her summer in Eboncrest. Vivienne let her go on, absorbing every word, every gesture, every spark of excitement.

When Briar finally paused to breathe, Vivienne reached across the space between them, taking her small hand in hers.

"Briar…" Her voice was softer now, careful.

Her cousin’s brows furrowed. "Why do you look so sad?"

Vivienne swallowed hard. Tears burned behind her eyes, but she refused to let them fall. "We need to have a… big conversation," she said, her voice tight.

Briar’s smile faltered.

Vivienne shifted uncomfortably, suddenly too aware of the fabric pressing against her skin, the weight in her chest. "You know how Mom and Dad have been traveling for a while?"

Briar nodded, slow and cautious.

"I got a letter," Vivienne continued, choosing each word with care. "They… they’ve been missing."

Briar’s eyes widened, tears already gathering at the edges.

Vivienne pressed on, ignoring the lump forming in her throat. "I talked to the King, and tomorrow, I’m leaving on a ship to find them."

A thick silence settled between them.

Her response was barely above a whisper, "Tomorrow?"

Vivienne winced.

"I just got back today," Briar said, pulling her hand away.

"I know. I’m so sorry?—"

"Why can’t you stay here?" Briar’s arms wrapped around her small frame. "Someone else can go. Someone else can bring them back."

Vivienne shook her head, voice wavering. "I have to go."

Briar’s tears spilled over. "Why?"

"The King said it has to be me."

Briar’s lips pulled into a frown. "What if you don’t come back? What if no one comes back?"

Vivienne opened her mouth, then closed it. It was a possibility neither of them were ready to face.

Briar jumped to her feet, anger flaring in her tear-filled eyes. "You’re going to leave me here? Alone?"

"Not alone," Vivienne countered. "Johanna will take care of you until I come back."

"When?" Briar’s voice cracked. “When will you come back?”

Vivienne stared at her, powerless. "I… I don’t know."

Briar’s tears fell freely now, her body trembling. "I don’t want to be an orphan again."

Vivienne sucked in a sharp breath as the words cut through her, lodging their blade in her heart.

"If Mom and Dad don’t come back…" Briar’s voice wavered. "What do we do?"

"You’d be with me," Vivienne whispered, a tear slipping down her cheek. "And we’d stay together."

What am I saying? I don’t know how to raise a child. I barely know how to take care of myself.

Briar’s lower lip quivered. "Please don’t go," she pleaded. "Tell the King to send someone else."

Vivienne’s chin trembled. "I can’t."

Briar’s anguish twisted into fury. "Can’t or won’t ?"

Vivienne flinched. "It’s not that simple, Briar, it’s?—"

"If you’re going to leave me, then just GO!" Briar shouted, the words raw and gut-wrenching.

Before Vivienne could react, Briar turned and ran.

"Briar, wait!"

She was already gone, sprinting up the beach toward the village. Vivienne chased after her, but Briar was faster, fueled by heartbreak and betrayal.

Lewis stood leaning against the bakery’s outer wall, arms crossed. He straightened as Briar burst inside, her sobs muffled by the closing door.

Through the window, Johanna’s gentle, knowing gaze met Vivienne’s. With a sad smile, the baker gathered Briar into her arms. Vivienne slowed to a stop, breathless.

Lewis’ voice was quiet. "Do you want to talk about it?"

Vivienne shook her head, pressing her lips together as her eyes brimmed with unshed tears. "Let’s just… get ready for tomorrow."