The implication was clear. I was leaving, so I didn’t care for Ada. “Wherever I am, I’ll always have you in my heart, Ada.”
“You’re mean.” Huge tears lined Ada’s big brown eyes. I felt like a villain for putting them there. “Veronique and Amelia never want to see you again. I don’t either.” She grabbed Mina’s hand and dragged her away. I watched the pair of them go. Part of me wanted to rush after Ada and promise to stay.
I can’t.
Sister Lorelei stood quietly. A long pause followed before she spoke. “You’ve done amazing things, Elea. You shouldn’t feel guilt for wanting some peace.”
I heard her words, yet the meaning couldn’t break through my guilt. All I could focus on was what Ada had told me. “Is it true? Amelia and Veronique are here, only they don’t want to see me?”
“They need time, as well.”
“I understand.” After everything that had happened, it was to return to Braddock. Alone. I’d thought my life was solitary before. Back then, I’d always had Tristan. Now, I’d gained friends, only to lose them all. Despair wrapped around me, tight as a winding sheet.
“I’d better go,” said Lorelei. Walking away, she followed the path that Ada and Mina had taken a moment ago.
The hallway felt cold and empty without Ada. The small hairs prickled on my neck. I hadn’t heard her approach. Even so, Petra now stood by my side. “You’re still rather stealthy in your old age, Mother.”
“Oh, I have a quite a few surprises left in me.” She gave me the smallest of smiles. “You always have a place here, if you should wish it.”
I wanted to soak up this moment, write it in parchment and save it forever. Mostly because it wasn’t true. I looked around the familiar stone hallways with their murals of laughing skeletons. For years, I’d wandered this Cloister. At one time, I’d been the young girl that all the elder Sisters adopted as their favorite. Now, I didn’t belong here.
“Thank you, Petra.”
“Be well, Elea.”
My eyes began to sting with held-in tears. I couldn’t cry in front of Petra. With a quick wave, I took off in search of a good spot to transport. I needed to return to Braddock Farm. That was the place for me. Some small part of my heart said a prayer to the Sire of Souls.
This time, let that be the truth.
Chapter Thirty-Three
I hiked up the road leading to Braddock Farm. With every step, my heart beat faster. The trees lining the side of the road were tall and lush. I couldn’t believe how much they’d grown in the last five and a half years.
My steps froze. Five and a half years? Had I really been away that long?
Why, yes I had.
I paused at the top of the hill. Here was my favorite view of the farm, right before dawn was about to break. Once the sun rose, everything in Braddock would be cast in a golden glow. I scanned the sky and frowned.
Gray clouds hung overhead. Not a good sign.
A rumble sounded behind me. I swung around to see my neighbor, Wyatt, driving toward me. His wagon was the same as I remembered—an open bed that had been painted white, large yellow wheels, and a small bench for the driver. At one time, I thought this transportation was quite fancy. Since then, I’d ridden in Royal covered carriages. Wyatt’s wagon looked very small and plain now. For some reason, that realization made my chest hurt a little.
As Wyatt drove closer, I noticed the other passengers in his cart. Beside him, there sat a slender woman in a simple blue frock. Her long golden hair cascaded over her shoulders. An infant lay swaddled in her arms. The back of the truck held a small child, a boy of no more than three years old. He had yellow curls and large bright eyes. A chilly realization crept through me.
This must be Wyatt’s family. He’d proposed to me shortly before I left for the Cloister. Well, proposed wasn’t exactly the word. Wyatt essentially demanded that I marry him, being that I was a lowly Necromancer and our lands abutted each other. He swore to marry a local girl. I suppose he did.
The sight hurt. Not that I wanted to marry Wyatt—he was too much of a bully for that—but because if I had stayed here, that might have been my life, too. Perhaps I’d have fallen in love with some kind farmer. I might have children now. I could have a life with someone who was actually available to share it with me.
Not like Rowan.
I held back the urge to groan. Why couldn’t I stop thinking about him? Rowan was engaged to someone else.
Wyatt’s gaze met mine. Like every bully, the man could sense when he’d caused pain, and he thrived on it. After stopping his wagon, he swung off the front bench and sauntered over toward me. I wanted to order him to leave, but this was my home now. Wyatt’s land ran beside mine. Things would be easier if I could control my temper and be as pleasant as possible.