The forgotten garden grew ever more weedy and wild each year. The square of space where the verge still held some vague hint of an orderly pattern had shrunk considerably. Fortunately, a level blanket of snow covered the tangle of dead vines and runners that normally choked the garden’s paths, leaving it a pristine expanse of white.
Radimar hummed in accompaniment to the distant music as he clasped Jahna’s hand to lead her through the steps. Jahna’s insides trembled at the soft look in his eyes, the way his gaze never wavered from her as they circled each other, leaving prints in the snow. His body brushed close against her with each twirl, teasing her senses with the perfumes of woodsmoke and incense and hints of strength hidden under layers of wool.
Her heart beat so hard in her chest, she feared it might break free, and she groped frantically for something to say that would restore her equilibrium. “Sodrin has made our father a happy man thanks to you.”
A small frown line appeared between Radimar’s eyebrows before it smoothed away. He continued to sweep her along with the music’s rhythm. “You give me undeserved credit. Your brother has trained hard these three years, especially this last year. He’s learned many skills to help him win.”
“Like how to listen?”
She loved his thin-lipped smile. “The most useful skill of all.”
“He still couldn’t have done without your teachings. Trained by an Ilinfan swordmaster, he’s proven his ability. The king will likely want him in his personal guard now. A true honor.”
He swept behind her, only to pivot until he stood beside her, his feet moving in time with hers. “How does your father feel about that? Both of you leaving Hollowfell to live here in the capital?”
She had wondered the same thing at first until Uhlfrida assured her it just gave him an excuse to visit more often. “He’ll miss us, but he’s ambitious and very aware of our standing and status. Sodrin in the royal guard would only help the family name.” A sudden thought occurred to her, and she frowned a little. “Don’t you have one more year with us to teach him? What will you and Father do so that Sodrin may continue to train with you?”
The excited flutters in her stomach turned to anxious ones when Radimar halted their dance and faced her. The somber cast to his features alarmed her.
“There aren’t any plans, Jahna. I received a message two days ago from Ilinfan. The leader of the Brotherhood, the Ghan, is on his deathbed. All swordmasters have been recalled and are to return to Ilinfan as soon as possible. Our students will be reassigned as the teachers take new places within the Brotherhood. I would have already left by now were it not for the Exhibition.”
Her throat was so tight, it hurt to speak, and her eyes stung with the threat of tears. “You can’t just come back to us when all has settled at Ilinfan? Sodrin is used to your methods.”
He shook his head, and she didn’t imagine the regret darkening his eyes. “It doesn’t work that way, my lady.”
They gazed at each in silence until Jahna could force more words past the constriction in her throat. “We’ll miss you. You’ve been a part of our family for three years now.”
His hard face softened with an unspoken regret. “And you, Sodrin and your father have made me feel welcomed in your home. I will think of Hollowfell and all of you often.” He captured her hand once more, fingers laced with his as he drew her into another dance. “Come, Jahna. No sadness here. We will dance as we have before in the garden no one remembers and carry with us this moment when we’re far from each other.”
For all that Radimar spoke the words as ones of reassurance, they sounded like those of a lover. Jahna inwardly chastised herself for such silly, fanciful thoughts, forced down her tears and pasted on a smile for his sake, and if she was honest with herself, hers as well. The expression might make her face ache with its insincerity, but at least she wouldn’t break down with sobs.
The faint strains of music changed tempo, slowing, and the two of them slowed with it. The silence, thick with unspoken sentiments, settled between them, and for one fleeting moment, Radimar’s hands settled on her back to draw her closer to him. Just as quickly he pulled away, and his movements lost their fluidity, as if something invisible now stood between them, solid as a stone wall and just as impenetrable.
At the end of the tune, Radimar stepped back, his face shuttered, eyes half closed to hide any telltale emotion there. His bow to Jahna was both formal and stiff. “Come, my lady. I think it best if we rejoin the others.”
She almost begged him to stay—stay in the garden, stay at Hollowfell, but she held her tongue and only nodded. The world outside the garden gates seemed a strange and desolate place to her, despite the laughter and revelry. They didn’t speak as he guided her through the crowd that swirled around them.
Sodrin found them near one of the blessing trees where people hung or tied bits of cloth, dried flowers, and handmade beads as small tributes to the gods of winter. Those deities who held sway through the dark cold would reach the pinnacle of their power the following night before giving way to the gods of spring. The snows would linger, but the nights would shorten as the sun grew in its power once more.
“There you are.” Sodrin wove toward them, a tipsy smile plastered across his slack features. His words slurred a little, and Radimar steadied him with a hand on his elbow as he listed sideways. “I’ve been looking everywhere for you. There’s ale and wine to drink and beautiful women to woo.” He waved a clumsy hand at Jahna. “You’re welcome to join us too, Jahna.”
The strong fumes of someone’s home brew wafting off him made her wrinkle her nose. “I don’t think so, and since when did you learn how to properly woo a woman?”
He patted Radimar’s shoulder before leaning on it for support. “Sir Radimar here teaches other things besides sword fighting.”
Her eyebrows rose. Did he? A flare of jealousy burned itself out in her chest. He was a circumspect man, private and reserved. Whatever relationships he sought or nurtured during his stay at Hollowfell never became the subject of village or estate gossip, and Jahna was glad for it. She really didn’t want to know what lucky woman managed to inspire his affections.
Radimar propped Sodrin up a little straighter. “Already deep into your cups, aren’t you?” Sodrin hiccuped in answer, and the swordmaster sighed. “Come on. We’ll take a walk.” He gave Jahna an apologetic look. “Jahna, can you find your father and let him know your brother is with me and will be courting a soft pillow very soon?”
“Of course, and good luck.” She winced as they staggered toward the palace, Sodrin singing a bawdy song at the top of his lungs and begging Radimar to join him. She hoped he had left their father in a more sober state.
She found Uhlfrida in the great hall, amidst the clamor of good-natured argument with a circle of his friends. He raised his goblet to Jahna when he saw her and motioned for her to join him. He guided her to a spot at the hall’s perimeter where fewer people stood, and they didn’t have to shout to be heard.