DARKHAVEN | "Three Sisters" Book One

Chapter Thirty-Nine

Roslin

"The fire grows dim," Roslin observed, standing. "I'll gather some more wood before the hour grows any later."

Blodwyn grinned. "You'll look for any excuse to run around these mountains, won't you?"

"You know me too well." Roslin already had her bag slung over her shoulder, ready to sneak down to that beautiful, glittering lake one last time. From their vantage point on the hill, she could see the beauty that was the frozen white expanse. The tents were pressed in closely tonight, ringing the fire in a circle, so surely the comfort of the group was as good of an excuse as any to sneak away.

It was, surprisingly, Gia who vocalised concern with the offer. "It's dark and cold. Perhaps one of the Lords could simply strengthen the fire?" To emphasise this, she glanced at Aleksander.

"We're not the only ones who should be saving our power," Roslin countered, "especially not while out on the road. More wood will keep us going all night."

"I'd be more comfortable if someone went with you," Gia replied, though she herself only pulled her cloak more tightly, clearly keen on leaving neither the heat of the fire nor the heat of her twin flame.

Gia's eyes pointedly wandered to Jon, who was sharpening one of his knives on the opposite side of the fire. Jon, seeing this, cleared his throat. "I'll gladly accompany you—"

"No need." Novak appeared as if out of nowhere, making Roslin jump. "I'll go with her."

"Thank you, my Lord, but I'll be quick about it and don't need anyone to—"

He ignored her and just smiled. "Lead the way."

She led.

They trudged in silence to the near bank of the lake where the sisters had slid down earlier, then disappeared into the treeline. Under the cover of the trees, the dark of the night made it less of a winter wonderland and much, much more treacherous. It was harder to tell what was ice and what was snow, or how far down the cliffs and crags went. Though Roslin stumbled and slid several times—which would have been fun in any other company—Novak never faltered once. It made her feel twice as much a fool as she usually did around him.

"I didn't want to gather firewood, in truth," she admitted for no reason other than to make conversation. "I was more than happy to let Lord Aleksander fuel the fire. I just—I felt like going for a walk. I love it here."

She stooped to pick up an armful of dry-enough kindling from beneath a ledge when Novak grabbed her by the arm. "Hey—!"

"That story you told Wren..." Novak's eyes were narrowed, but wild.

Roslin's mind reeled. "What story?"

"Opening your little heart about your childhood like that, about fairy tales and Princesses and dragons. You think you're so sweet, don't you?" He was studying her face, his breath coming out in white clouds between them. "You even believe it, don't you? That you're good and gentle and—"

"I am!" Roslin wrenched her elbow away. Then, more gently, sadly, "I am."

"You're not—"

"I'm not the sum of the circumstances I've had to face."

"You are exactly the sum of the circumstances you've had to face. I know more about you than you'll ever realise. Why do you think I chose you?" Novak was staring her down. "I know. I know what you're capable of, what you've done to yourself for others. You bury your head in the sand and tell yourself you want to bake bread, grow flowers. You want to be gentle and sweet and good and kind, and you want others to think it, too. But you're not, are you?"