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CHAPTER 1

ELLA

M emories were like stars. Without the stars, the night sky would be empty and dark. And without memories, Ella felt empty and alone. She had hoped this day would be different. That somehow a memory had slipped through the fog of her mind. But the only things that filtered through were the sounds of her new life.

A simple life as a maid in a small inn, in a dying village that clung to the shores of a river filled with broken dreams.

Ella slipped from her bed, shaking out the wrinkles from yesterday’s plain linen skirt and shirt. The remnants of last night’s dreams still clung to her like a spiderweb. The thin silver strands would get tangled in her everyday life, reminding her she was truly not Ella . But until her memories returned, Ella’s life was the only one she had.

And right now, Ella’s life was waking and would need to be tended to. Any thoughts of her forgotten life would have to wait. There were morning meals and guests to be served.

Ella finished dressing and hurried down the dimly lit hall. Most of the guests were still hidden behind closed doors. Their muffled voices mingled with the noise from the morning meal being prepared below. Ella bounced down the stairs, catching her reflection in the large tarnished mirror at the end.

“Dammit.” Her fingers worked to twist the pale golden strands of her hair into a braid. The face that stared back at her looked familiar, but some pieces were not. She didn’t know how she had gotten the scar on her lip. Or why this morning her eyes shone a bright blue green instead of the stormy gray blue they had been last night. But the memory she missed the most was her name. A name made her someone. Someone to miss and someone to love.

“If you are done gawking at yourself, I need more tea.”

Ella tied her braid off before turning to see Mrs . Clark holding up a teapot. Her wrinkled face was twisted into a sneer. Mrs . Clark could walk to the kitchen and ask herself. But Mrs . Clark had a memory, a husband, and belonged amongst these people.

Ella did not. She knew that much to be true.

“Of course, Mrs . Clark . I’ll have someone bring you more.” Ella grabbed the teapot and made her way across the dimly lit dining room to the kitchen. She pushed open the kitchen door with her hip. “ Mrs . Clark needs more tea.” She set the teapot near the large wood stove in the cramped room already warm from the baking of the day’s bread. The other two maids of the Blind Badger Inn , Sissy and Clara , were already busy with the day’s chores.

“How nice of you to join us. I thought you forgot there was work to do,” Clara said, flipping her heavy braid over her shoulder.

Ella brushed off Clara’s remark. Her lack of memory was no secret and the thing everyone remembered about her. “ Not today,” Ella said, pulling a clean apron from the hook. The two girls were the closest things she had to friends. Her “family” was now Ailith , or Mrs . A , the owner of the Blind Badger , and Lillian , Mrs . A’s daughter. They had welcomed her and took her in. They , like her clothing, were borrowed until her forgotten life wasn’t forgotten.

“Clara, that isn’t nice. How would you feel if you woke up and didn’t remember who you were?” Sissy tied a simple cloth over her soft brown curls.

“I wouldn’t come to work here,” Clara retorted. “ I’d build a better life.”

“It’s not that easy, Clara . Who would support you?” Sissy asked, pushing the plate of cheese and day-old bread towards Ella .

Clara straightened her spine and stuck her chin out. “ Me . I’d be my own woman. I’d make up a tale about a dead husband and missing fortune.” Clara looked over at Ella . “ Of all the places, why did you come to Riverton ? Morro would have been a better choice.”

Ella shrugged, picking at the food. “ I don’t think I had a choice.” Somewhere in a different house, in a different bed, one soft and draped in dark silk, Ella had fallen asleep in a black ball gown amidst memories. She woke on the shores of Riverton still in the ball gown, battered and bruised. And didn’t remember why.

“I suggest next time you pick somewhere bigger with more opportunity,” Clara said over her shoulder on her way to the dining room. “ That’s what I would do.”

“Ignore her.” Sissy leaned closer to Ella . “ She wouldn’t know what to do if she left Riverton . Come to think of it, I don’t think she ever has.” Sissy shrugged and walked over to the stove to make Mrs . Clark’s tea. “ Mrs . A left the list of new guests for you. It looks like we will have a full house. Which means more dirty linens and dishes.”

“Great.” At least that was something she was incapable of ruining. Ella had yet to master baking or sewing a simple button on her shirt.

“It won’t be so bad. We can gossip.” Sissy stepped closer to Ella . “ I heard Mr . Clark and Mrs . Clark arguing. Apparently , someone has a bit of a gambling problem.”

Of the two girls, Ella was closest to Sissy . When Ella first came to Riverton , she had been heartbroken. She was unaware of the reason for, nor could she put a face with, that heartbreak. For days she cried over something or someone she didn’t remember. Sissy would come and sit with her and make up stories about Ella’s forgotten life.

Sometimes they amounted to no more than a fairy tale; others had a firmer grounding in reality. Stories of a loving mother and siblings desperate to find Ella . But no matter how silly or real Sissy’s stories were, none of them felt true. And none could explain away the two bracelets Ella wore on her left wrist. Thin gold bangles that had no clasp, couldn’t be removed, and were so delicate Ella had feared they’d break if she moved.

They had to be a key to who she was.

“Where is Mrs . A ?” Ella asked, securing her own head cloth over her hair. She read the names on the list of those checking out. That was the odd thing about memory loss. It picked which memories to rob her of. Ella was able to read but had no memory of who taught her. She hated apples but didn’t know why. She knew she was twenty-seven but not when her birthday was. All pieces to a missing puzzle.

“She’s in the garden.” Sissy nodded to the back door.

Ella ran her finger down the list. “ It looks like we have new guests checking in to rooms two, four, seven, and six.”

“Room six?” Clara asked as she walked back in, setting the tray on the table. “ Are you sure?” The petite girl took the list from Ella .

“You can’t read.” Sissy frowned.

“Who asked you?” Clara scanned the list before handing it back to Ella . “ Who is staying in room six?”

“Not your future husband,” Sissy teased.

“A T . Tenebris .” Room six was the most expensive room Mrs . A rented out. It had a private sitting area and a bathing room. It also had the best views of the Cloud Mountains and the river. The room also meant whoever stayed in it was wealthier than most who passed through. Which explained Clara's desire to clean it. Clara wanted a wealthy husband.

“No Mrs . T . Tenebris ?” Clara raised a brow.

“It doesn’t say if there is a mister.”

“Of course he’s a mister. I know you are new to this life. But only women of ill repute travel alone. And Mrs . A would not allow that type of guest into this fine establishment.”

Sissy finished making Mrs . Clark’s tea. “ He’s not even here, and she’s already trying to marry him. He might be a hideous ogre. I can clean room two before I start the laundry.”

“I don’t care what he looks like as long as he has the means to support me.” Clara smoothed her hair down. “ How long is he staying?”

Ella brushed off Clara’s statement about her not understanding the local customs. Even after a year of living here, she still didn't understand the customs and traditions of Riverton . That was mostly her fault. She hadn’t taken the time to learn them, hoping that she wouldn’t need to because her memories would return and she’d be gone. But now Ella was starting to lose hope that she’d ever remember who she was. “ There is no check-out date.”

“Really?” Clara looked at the list again. “ I’ll clean room six and see to Mr . Tenebris . You two can fight over the others.” Clara reached for the key hanging on the peg.

The door between the dining room and kitchen swung open, and Mrs . A’s daughter, Lillian , walked in. “ You’ll clean all the rooms. You too, Sissy . Ella , Mother wants you to head to the market. Here is a list of what she needs. And there are a few deliveries to be made.” Lillian handed Ella a list and a pouch of coins. “ Be back before dinner. We have a full house, and Clara is no help cooking. She’s no help with serving either but?—”

“I am so,” Clara huffed.

“No, you’re not. Last night you dropped two plates.”

“It was only two.” Clara frowned.

Lillian rolled her eyes. “ You were only carrying two. Gods above, I will be glad when I’m Mrs . Darby Worthington and won’t have to worry about this place anymore. Or the guests. Would you believe Mrs . Clark had the nerve to tell me she was surprised Darby would choose a simple girl like me? She accused me of putting a spell on him. Horrible woman. I’d like to put a spell on her.” Lillian tossed down a stained dishcloth.

“Don’t say that,” Sissy scolded Lillian . “ Death may come take your soul.”

Lillian leveled her gaze at Sissy . “ I doubt Death wants anything to do with Riverton .”

“Death will go anywhere there is a soul to take. And you don’t want to press your luck so close to your wedding,” Sissy reminded Lillian . “ Especially since fate did so much to bring you two together.”

Clara snorted. “ A late spring snowstorm forced Darby to stop. Not some silly god.”

Ella smiled at the two girls. Sissy believed in things like wishes and the gods. Clara didn’t.

“Oh, hush. You’re just upset Death has not come to ask for your hand in marriage,” Lillian mumbled.

“I heard that,” Clara snapped back.

Like the joke about Ella’s lost memories, Clara had her own issues. She had been given the nickname Death’s Bride after two dead and one missing fiancé. The first man died on their wedding day before Clara could say I do . The second one’s heart gave out three weeks before the wedding. And the third was run out of town after rumors of magic beans. Since then, no man wanted anything to do with Clara , no matter her beauty. Which explained her employment at the Blind Badger .

“You were supposed to. Now get to work.” Lillian waved the girls away. “ Ella , may I have a word with you?”

“Sure.” Ella busied herself with trying to decipher Mrs . A’s writing. She had an idea of what Lillian wanted to talk about. Clara had heard rumors about the Blind Badger's closure.

Lillian took a deep breath, letting it out slowly. “ Mother didn’t want me to tell you this before the Moon Festival , but I’d rather you find out from me than Clara . Things have been tough for us. For the inn. And unless we find a small fortune or…” Lillian struggled with her words. “ Then there is my mother. She’s going to be fifty this year. She’s not getting any younger. And the winters are getting colder and harder on her.” Lillian’s face softened. “ What I’m trying to say is we’re closing the inn. I will be leaving after the wedding, but Mother will stay for a few weeks to finish out the reservations and close things up. You’re welcome to stay and help, but she’ll need to leave by Yule . So you’ll…”

“Need to find another place to live.” Whatever that meant. This life might not fit, but it was the only life she knew. Riverton was the only home she remembered. The thought of starting over felt daunting and tiring.

Lillian brushed a few crumbs off the large worktable. “ Yes . Do you have any plans or idea on what you will do?”

“No.” Ella shrugged. Sissy and Clara seemed to have their lives planned out. Marriage , family, death. None of that sounded like anything Ella wanted. At least the marriage and family part. Death was just a part of life.

“Mother says you and the miller’s son, William , have been getting close. Have you given any thought to maybe?—”

“No.” Ella cut her off. She recognized where Lillian was going with this. William had already tried going down that road. The marriage road. That was a road Ella didn’t want to go down. Ever .

Lillian sighed. “ I know marriage isn’t your first choice, but…” Lillian paused, looking around the small kitchen. “ Your domestic skills aren’t very good. I’m afraid no one would hire you as a maid. And if they did, they’d fire you soon after. And you don’t seem to be very motherly, so being a governess is out of the question.”

Lillian’s words hung in the air between them. So that left Ella with the option of marriage or working at a brothel. And even the Riverton brothel faced hardship. Everyone wanted to vacation by the sea or in the mountains.

“Ella, I wish I could be more help but…”

It had been almost a year since Mrs . A had found Ella asleep by the river with nothing more than a black ball gown and the two bracelets. The older woman could’ve turned Ella over to the workhouse, but instead, she gave Ella a name, a job, and a place to live. It wasn’t meant to be forever.

“You’ve done plenty.” Besides , it had been a year, and no one had come looking for her in Riverton . Maybe it was time for a bigger city. “ You and your mother have been more than generous with your home. It’s been a year since the Moon Festival and time for me to move on. Start fresh.”

“But where will you go?” Lillian reached for Ella . “ Wouldn’t marrying William be a better choice than leaving the only home you have ever known? Darby says the mill isn’t doing the best. But I am sure William can turn it around. He’s young and seems smart. It doesn’t take much to support a family here in Riverton . Plus , Sissy is going nowhere, and Clara , well, that poor twit will be here when the river finally dries up.”

Poor Clara . She , like Ella , was stuck. In a different life, neither of them would need a husband. Clara could run a tavern or trading house. She possessed shrewdness and a quick wit. And Ella could read and write. But those weren’t skills men wanted in wives. Nor were they skills that women could use without a husband’s name to go with them. So for most women, marriage was the only way to have a future that didn’t involve servitude. Though a husband still meant servitude, just a different kind.

“I’ll think about it,” she lied. She didn’t want to marry. It had nothing to do with William . He was a nice enough boy. Handsome . He was far better looking than most of the men in the small village. And he had already asked her to marry him. But she couldn’t. Even as much as she enjoyed her time with him, he felt destined for another. And no matter how much he loved her, she couldn’t love him back.

And that was because somewhere, there was the man she loved. She felt that love in the marrow of her bones. She even dreamt of him. Well , most of him, not his face or his name. Those memories still lay locked away. But she had loved someone once.

“Please do. And I’m sorry, Ella . I wish I had a better solution for you.”

“It’s not your problem to fix.” Ella forced a smile. “ I better get going,” she said, grabbing her cloak and the basket before Lillian said another word.

A new city would be a fresh start . But it would also mean she’d have to explain why she didn’t know who her parents were or where she was born. And what if her family came here looking for her? Who would tell them where she had gone? But the real reason dread curled up her chest was a bigger city meant more people. And more people meant more noise, more lights, and more of the strange glow she saw in their chests.

A glow she felt certain no one else saw.