A Captive of Wing and Feather A Retelling of Swan Lake - Melanie Cellier Page 0,26

was being deliberately obtuse to his interest, or if she was truly blind to it.

Juniper interrupted them, running over, her face covered in patches of icing sugar.

“Thank you, Ash! It was delicious. Will you bring me another one someday?”

The adults all chuckled. He reached down and put his hands under her arms, hoisting her up and setting her legs swinging around in crazy patterns. She squealed with delight, laughing and calling for more. When he finally put her down, he was smiling almost as hard as she was.

“Ash can’t be bringing you cakes every day,” Wren said, although she had the same smile on her face.

“A Why not?” asked Junie, scrunching up her face.

“I don’t mind,” Ash said quickly. “I just wish all my customers were as enthusiastically grateful.” But his eyes were on Wren, not Juniper, and they looked wistful.

“You’re far too kind, and your actual paying customers might be wanting your delicious cakes,” Wren said lightly.

My heart stung a little in sympathy at Ash’s crestfallen look, but Wren didn’t seem to notice, ushering Juniper back out of the room under Selena’s supervision. Ash watched them for a moment before his eyes fell on me.

He gave me an easy smile until his brow crinkled slightly, the expression changing into one of concern. He took several steps in my direction.

“I’m glad you’re here, Lady,” he said. “I’ve been worried about you.”

I stared at him in surprise. Most townsfolk had taken little note of me when I was a quiet thirteen-year-old sheltering at the haven. I had come and gone among them, running errands for Cora, without occasioning any particular notice. People were friendly enough, assigning me to the background tapestry of town life—as they did anyone who found their way into Cora’s care. Not even the most frightened of residents could look at me as I was then and see a threat.

But then everything had changed. I had disappeared into the forest and come out different. I no longer spoke, no longer attempted to barter at the market or exchanged the friendly greetings they had barely noticed before. Soon enough, I stopped frequenting the market at all. And, worse than any of that, I spent my nights alone in the forest. Not even Cora would think of doing such a risky thing, and my continued reckless behavior only cemented the idea that something was terribly wrong with me.

Now they shunned me, whispering among themselves if they saw me pass and hurrying their children away. It had long since ceased to bother me. Those at the haven had taken my changes in their stride, their initial shock and questions giving way to acceptance when they realized that I truly did not intend to give any answers.

Ash was different, though. He continued to be friendly, even if I often read confusion in his eyes. At first I had thought it was purely because of my close association with Wren, but moments like this reminded me that his concern was genuine, and for my own sake. The knowledge warmed me and unsettled me in almost equal degrees, although I didn’t understand why.

I tried to smile reassuringly at him, but his expression only deepened.

“I don’t like to pry,” he said, and I flinched. Ash had never asked me intrusive questions, but everything in me tightened now—I should have been prepared for their inevitable arrival.

“I’m sure you have your reasons,” he continued. “I just wish you would consider staying at the haven tonight. And for a while. I worry about you out there on your own.”

I frowned. That hadn’t been quite what I expected.

I signed toward Cora, and she stepped closer. She had already been listening, her own face beginning to mirror his concern.

“She says that she cannot,” Cora said, interpreting for me. “But she thanks you and says you needn’t worry about her.”

Ash gave a wry smile. “If only it were so easy to turn off such feelings.” His eyes glanced briefly toward Wren, who was now talking to the newly arrived cook, but he turned back to me. Apparently we weren’t finished with the conversation.

“As I said, I know it is none of my business, but I’ve been hearing some disturbing rumors, and it keeps me up at night sometimes to think of you out there in the dark.”

I smiled and shrugged. I wasn’t alone, of course—I had my swans with me—but I wasn’t going to attempt to explain that to him. He seemed disconcerted by my calm response, but I knew Brylee