Page 15 of Claimed By the Fae Lord

I quickly strapped on the quiver making note to carve some more arrows since I only had twenty left. It was always best to be prepared.

Sofiya made a choking noise and I twisted to check on her. Clearing her throat, she put up her hands indicating she was fine. I nodded and held open the door.

As we stepped outside, the crisp air of Greenhollow hit my face, clearing my lungs and sharpening my senses. I inhaled deeply and hummed, then hopped off the stoop.

Sofiya walked beside me in comfortable silence. I liked that she didn't feel the need to fill it with small talk.

We stayed to the outer border, following a well-traveled path she'd told me Aeryn used to walk daily. I took in every sight and sound, from the pheasants taking cover in the small areas of brush to the small brook at the back of the property.

Rows of burgeoning crops spread out before us, a testament to Aeryn's green thumb—a skill I hoped was contagious. I knewSofiya's parents had been helping out in Aeryn's absence, but they'd insisted all they did was check on things. It had been all Aeryn.

We made one rotation, returning to the cottage from the opposite side. I noticed the lack of crunching under my boots. The frost was already melting under the rising sun.

As much as I loved the cold, I also loved a beautiful sunny day. Which, by the look of things, was what we were going to get.

"Well, Raina, are you ready to tackle Aeryn's garden?"

"As ready as someone who's more used to wielding swords than shovels can be," I answered and followed her to the shed for supplies.

Yesterday, Alistair had suggested starting in the small garden so I could get familiar with the soil, get afeelfor it.

How one did that, I had no idea. I wasn't an earth or woodland fae or anything remotely similar.

I could make ice and swing an ax. Throw a spear. Wield a sword.

I could also sit very still and pretend I was paying attention to others I could hardly stand. I believed it to be one of my more useful skills. Gods knew I'd had to apply it thousands of times over the years.

"See these?" Sofiya pointed to a cluster of leafy greens. "Aeryn insists that talking to them helps them grow. I think it's more about the way she touches them and the soil, like each plant is precious."

"Aeryn treats the plants like pets," I remarked, crouching to inspect the verdant leaves. "Well, if they respond to her voice, imagine what they'll do when they hear my thrilling tales of boring etiquette lessons right before hours of combat training."

"Perhaps they'll grow thorns for protection," Sofiya giggled.

"Or wilt in sheer terror," I retorted.

"Never. You'll have them flourishing in no time." She handed me a small spade. "Now, let's see about planting those seeds. It's all about the depth and spacing."

I'd already had a crash course, but Sofiya patiently took me through it again. It was easier to recall now that I was actually performing the actions.

The act of digging into the soil, feeling its cool dampness, became meditative. My thoughts, which so often strayed these past weeks, were momentarily grounded in the tangible task before me.

"Remember," Sofiya said gently, "it's not just about burying the seeds. It's nurturing them, giving them a chance to grow."

Her words carried a weight beyond gardening advice. They made me consider how closely her magical gifts aligned to her personality.

Did mine?

The rhythm of the day carried us forward, and between watering rows and weeding beds, I felt a semblance of peace. The simplicity of life in Greenhollow was a stark departure from Snowfall Manor, one I appreciated

"Are you excited about Aeryn's visit?" Sofiya asked as we sat on the porch, hands stained with earth, sharing a modest lunch of bread and cheese.

"Mmm."

Sofiya's lips curved. "So you're not excited, then?"

Aeryn had sent a message that she would be coming to collect us in a few days because she needed her friends to help with thewedding. She also said she wanted to spend a little time at the cottage.

"Anxious, I would say." I nibbled on a crust, contemplating. "Mirrelle and Astrid will be with her."

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