Page 60 of Sweetling
Rubbing the red velvet of the gown he’d bought, Molly still couldn’t help feeling…none of this was meant for someone like her. The woman who could occupy this bedchamber and wear those gowns would feel it her due, no doubt, that this was the life she was meant to have. For Molly, though…she’d be waiting for it all to be taken away.
It’d happened before, why not again.
And she wasn’t sure she could live like that.
Morning brought no further answers, and Molly’s uncertainty had grown into a frustrated restlessness. Pulling her arms through the sleeves of her coat, she made her way down through the house.
It was quiet, as if it held its breath for her. Outside, fog had rolled in across the estate, keeping the birds in their beds and blocking out the meager dawn light. Burying her hands deep into her pockets, Molly set off down the drive, hoping to work some of the jitters out of her legs.
The fine gravel crunched beneath her boots as she walked, and the damp of the fog kissed her cheeks. The cool air had a thickness to it from the fog, smelling of water and rich earth.
She kept to the path, not willing to delve into the darkness of the forest that lingered just two trees deep. What light there was struggled to penetrate the fog, let alone the foliage. No doubt something watched her from the shadows, but she put it from her mind. Strange things happened in strange places, and this estate was the strangest of all.
Molly watched her footfalls, for there wasn’t much to see through the fog. The drive eventually gave way to a simple rutted path that followed the gentle curve of a shallow hill. She hadn’t seen how the land of the estate rolled and undulated with hills on their journey here, but then, it’d been night and Molly had been stiff and tired from the ride.
She followed the path up the hill, stopping near the top. The fog hadn’t cleared, but it was a bit thinner higher up, and below, she could spot the tall spires of trees rising out of the gray mist.
Something inside, something innate, told her that not far that way lay the border of the estate.
Molly couldn’t explain it—it was just a kind ofknowing,like when the house creaked and she knew if it was a happy or sad creak.
Was that the magic? Had she been here long enough for it to start affecting her?
Changing her?
The thought lodged in her chest, though not entirely unpleasantly. She wasn’t scared of the idea, but it did make her worry—if she left, would there be repercussions? Like a person who’d had their drink taken away or those whose families sent them to Wards when their love of poppy milk grew too much.
Before her was the way to Dundúran. To the north lay Mullon.
But…did she want to go to either place?
What if…she didn’t leave?
The thought caught in her guts and pulled. Again, not unpleasantly. The idea of remaining on the estate didn’t cause dread or fear, not when she knew she wasn’t being kept against her will. It was just…Molly had survived this long knowing the rules of the world she lived in.
It’d taken years after moving to the city to learn its rules. Those of the tavern and neighborhood also took many experiences to understand. Once she’d learned the rules of how the place worked, Molly was better able to navigate it.
Here, in Scarborough, though, there didn’t seem to be any rules. Or at least, none written in a language she understood.
Go on, then.
Molly jumped, spinning in a circle to find who’d spoken.
From below, the shadows of the forest began to move. Molly wrapped her arms around herself as she watched the unicorn emerge from between the trees, moving seamlessly between light and shadow. Those glowing red eyes pierced her as surely as the tip of his horn speared through the air as he mounted the slope.
There is your path,he thought loudly at her.Go. Leave this place, and don’t turn back.
“So eager to be rid of me?” she couldn’t help sniping.
A low, rumbling nicker echoed through the fog.Yes. You have done enough here. Be the coward that you are and go.
“I’m not a coward,” she growled.
No? Then decide. Put Allarion out of his misery and let him lance the wound.
Her temper dissipated as quickly as it’d formed at the mention of Allarion. His sadness haunted her, even here, far from the house.
Do the right thing and leave him,said the unicorn.
