Ironhold (Part 3)

Neve walked through the conservatory, hand-in-hand with Blanche and Wren. She appreciated the greenery, which could only survive in the warmth and humidity provided by the paned glass building. The cold and dry climate of Ironhold sustained mainly pine, and further north of the estate, it was tundra.

The Duke built the conservatory for Neve's late mother as a wedding gift–an apology for whisking her away to a land as barren as the duchy.

The conservatory was something like a sanctuary for the Rosentine children. Whenever they needed to escape from their duties, or needed a moment to breathe, they took refuge in the building. Its warmth and comfort reminded them of a mother's touch, something they once longed deeply for.

That was why Neve knew she could find Vale here, rather than inside the estate. And as she expected, Neve spotted Vale sitting underneath a magnolia tree in the centre of the conservatory.

His eyes were closed, having fallen into a light slumber. His eyes were ringed with dark circles. Even while sleeping, Vale's face was creased with worry.

Blanche detached herself from Neve first, running to join Vale at the tree. Her shoes clacked against the stone path, rousing her brother. He had only a moment to brace himself before Blanche threw herself at him.

"Ouch! Be careful, Blanche," Vale admonished, though his voice was gentle.

"Shut up," Blanche shot back weakly. "This is the first time you've come back in months, and it's to send Neve to the battlefields."

"Don't be a brat," Neve said, taking a seat beside Vale. The grass tickled her legs, but it was still pleasant. "You could've come to the Capital if you missed us."

Blanche wrinkled her nose in distaste. "Why would I go to the Capital? I hate it there."

"I don't blame you," Neve replied with a laugh. "If you go, they might send you off to war, too."

"Don't joke," Wren said quietly. His siblings turned to look at him, concerned by the boy's solemn tone. "Do you really have to go, Neve? Is there nothing Father can do?"

Neve smiled sadly and ruffled his inky black hair. "Unfortunately, House Rosentine isn't in a position to deny the Royal Family. But you don't have to worry. I'll return home safely."

Vale glanced at the founder's sword, which lay at Neve's side, and understood her immediately. They shared a glance, unspoken words exchanged. Vale knew of Neve's magic and could feel marginally reassured by Neve's confidence.

"Hey! That's not fair," Blanche whined. "No secrets. Wren and I can't do the mind-reading thing you two do."

"You just have to practice harder," Vale teased.

"When do you have to leave?" Wren asked, undeterred by Vale's attempt to lighten the mood. His face, still softened by childhood, was harshened by his grim expression.

Neve looked at Vale, unsure of the answer.

Vale sighed, looking into the distance. "The imperial order gives you two weeks from today. Then you'll have to depart to Hell's Gate."

"Hell's Gate?" Blanche repeated, horrified.

"It's fine," Neve interjected. "If I could survive the Royal Court as the Prince's fiancée, I may as well be able to survive Hell."

"I'll have the knights train you while you're here," Vale said. "It's been a long time since you've wielded a sword."

Neve regarded her soft, unblemished hands. They did not seem like hands that could wield the founder's sword. "Yes, I could use some practice."

"You should join Neve, Wren," Vale suggested. "You seem to be much healthier these days. Doing some exercise will be good for your body."

Wren nodded, though he looked uncertain.

"We're not all brutes like you and Neve," Blanche retorted, crossing her arms. "Wren and I are scholars."

"And you call yourself a Rosentine?" Neve taunted.

"Barely," Blanche scoffed. "You'll regret making fun of us. We're going to be the ones who save you when you accidentally start a war without thinking."

"We're already at war, O' wise scholar," Vale reminded her.

"You know what I mean," Blanche fumed.

"Enough fighting, children," Neve interrupted. "We should head back inside. Dinnertime is nearing, and Father will wonder where we are."

The Rosentine children stood, reluctant to leave their small haven. Wren grabbed hold of Neve's hand again, and Vale offered Blanche his. Wordlessly, they left the conservatory. Neve looked back just once, something melancholic tugging at her heart. It would be a long time before the Rosentine children would sit underneath the magnolia together again.

–––

That night, Neve was awoken by the sound of her bedchamber door opening. Disoriented, she sat upright, trying to see through the darkness.

"Neve?" Blanche called out softly. "Are you awake?"

"Well, I am now," Neve replied, falling back onto her mattress. She pulled her heavy blanket up, feeling the mattress dip as Blanche laid beside her.

The dim moonlight caught Blanche's angelic white hair, which fanned around her head like freshly fallen snow.

"Can I join you?" another voice asked shyly.

"Of course, Wren," Neve answered sleepily. She lifted up part of the blanket, beckoning her younger brother to join them. "Come on."

Wren sat on the mattress tentatively, careful not to disturb his sisters. Slowly–ever so slowly–he began to recline. Growing impatient, Neve wrapped her arm around Wren's midsection and dragged him closer to her.

"Hey!" Wren cried out indignantly, only to be shushed by Blanche. He mumbled a quiet, "Sorry."

Neve covered Wren's shoulders with her blanket, burrowing into the shared warmth of her bed. The lull of sleep slowly began to consume her as she mindlessly counted the even puffs of Blanche's breath.

Just as Neve was beginning to dip into a light slumber, she felt Wren shuffle closer to her. He gently grasped the cuff of her nightdress, pressing his forehead against her shoulder.

"I miss you, even when you're here," Wren whispered, his quiet confession carried away by the gentle draft of the room.

Still, Neve heard it all the same. But before she could reply, the world drifted into darkness, and the moment was forgotten as Neve's eyes slipped shut.

When Emilie found the siblings in the morning, curled up tightly together, she could only smile at the nostalgic scene and give them a few extra minutes to sleep.