Total pages in book: 113
Estimated words: 107209 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 536(@200wpm)___ 429(@250wpm)___ 357(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 107209 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 536(@200wpm)___ 429(@250wpm)___ 357(@300wpm)
“Of course.” Maeve poured herself a cup before joining Lyrica at the table. Tonight, Maeve wore a floor-length gown patterned with delicate blue flowers, its waist cinched just so. Her twin braids added a youthful softness to her face, which had pinkened from the heat of the fire. “Did they free the poor lass yet?” Concern coated her tone.
The vision of the poor victim made Lyrica’s heart hurt. “Not yet. She’s still frozen to the ground,” Lyrica replied, her teeth still chattering slightly. The tingling in her feet became painful as warmth began to return to them.
Maeve shook her head, her brow furrowing. “Ah, what a dreadful thing. Who could’ve gone and done this?”
“I don’t know,” Lyrica admitted, gripping the mug tighter. “It doesn’t make sense. No one knows how she got here.”
The two sat in contemplative silence for a moment. Lyrica glanced around the sparkling clean kitchen, gathering her thoughts. “Actually, I was hoping to get a chance to speak with you anyway.”
“Oh?” Maeve tilted her head. “What about?”
Lyrica hesitated, shifting uncomfortably in her chair. “I was…worried about you.”
“Worried about me?” Maeve asked, her eyebrows lifting. “Why? Sure, I’m grand altogether. ’Tis a fine little cottage in a lovely, snowy place. Believe it or not, I’ve a great fondness for the snow. Though, truth be told, I’d take the rain any day.”
Lyrica managed a faint smile. There was something starkly beautiful about these frozen mountains. Still, she pressed on, trying to find the right words. “It seems like Ralstad doesn’t give you much freedom, and…I’m worried about that.”
Maeve scrunched up her nose. “Ah, there’s nothing to be fretting over. I’m happy as can be. Not everyone’s got the itch to wander the wide world, you know.”
“No, but don’t you want your freedom?” Lyrica asked cautiously. She shifted in her chair again, unsure how to broach the subject without causing offense.
Maeve shrugged, taking another sip of tea. “None of us truly has freedom, you know. We’re all tied to somethin’—be it kin, community, or duty.”
“What about love?” Lyrica asked softly.
Maeve’s gaze grew distant, and she nodded thoughtfully. “Ah, love holds us fast as well. Maybe more than anythin’ else, it does.”
Lyrica frowned, uncertain if Maeve truly understood her point. Did Maeve even realize she had a choice? That she didn’t have to stay with Ralstad simply because of a centuries-old deal her father had made? Lyrica leaned forward, lowering her voice. “He just…he seems like the kind of male who’d hurt you if you disappointed him. I need to ask.”
Maeve’s eyes widened. “Ralstad doesn’t harm me, so don’t be puttin’ that notion in your head.”
“Are you sure?” Lyrica pressed gently, her concern deepening. “What about the boot warmers? You wanted them and he said no. Who would keep you from a necessity like that?”
Before Maeve could answer, the door swung open. Ralstad stepped inside, his broad shoulders filling the frame. Maeve stood quickly, setting her cup down. “Would ya like a bit of coffee, then?” she asked, moving toward him.
He shrugged off his outerwear, hanging it in the alcove, and stepped toward her. “I’d love some,” he replied.
“Sure, aren’t ya glad we stocked up earlier?” Maeve hurried to pour coffee from a pot warming on the stove.
Tension spiraled through Lyrica as Ralstad glanced her way. His presence dominated the room, the earlier warmth suddenly feeling stifling.
“Did they free the woman?” Lyrica asked, breaking the silence.
Ralstad accepted the mug from Maeve, his dark eyes sharp. “They’re working on it. They need the UTV to transport her back to the medical facility.”
Lyrica finished her tea and stood. “Did you recognize her?”
“No,” Ralstad said firmly. “I’ve never seen her before.” His gaze flicked to Maeve. “It’s late. You should be sleeping.”
Maeve flushed, glancing at Lyrica. “We’ve a guest, we do.”
“I need to be going anyway,” Lyrica interjected quickly, moving to the alcove to put on her boots and coat. She zipped her jacket with shaking fingers, pulling on her mittens. “Ralstad? You have Kurjan hearing and senses. Did you notice anything odd? Hear anything?” Was it possible he could’ve missed the woman being dumped on his property? She had a feeling he didn’t miss much.
“No,” Ralstad answered, taking a big drink of his coffee. “I have no idea where she came from.”
Lyrica wished she could smell lies. Did Ralstad bring her in? “I noticed a snowmobile to the side of your house.” Not many in the nation had their own snowmobiles yet. Vero had yet to bring a bunch in. “It’s odd to have one, right?”
Ralstad shrugged, his focus solely on her across the short distance. “I requested one since we live so far out.”
A likely story, but if someone was snowmobiling in victims somehow, that narrowed the suspect list significantly. Lyrica forced a smile. “Maeve, would you like to go on a walk tomorrow? I was hoping to meet some of the other new couples.”