Page 12 of Once Upon a Woven Wish
Serena pushed open the door.It swung open, banging against the wall, startling both of them.Gone was the sickly smell to the room.Now, the air was fresh and crisp.As though Papa had never been at death’s door.
Papa sat upright against the pillows, the gray of sickness gone from his cheeks.His lips had color.His eyes shone.He looked—alive.More alive than she had seen in weeks.
But his smile—broad, crinkling his eyes—was fixed on Maris.
“You’re up!”Maris said, hopping to her feet.Her voice was too high for the morning.
Her gaze flicked from her sister to her father, who smiled so wide his face lit with joy.But the smile wasn’t for her.It was for Maris.
“Papa?”Serena whispered.
His eyes slid to her, but it was Maris he reached for, patting her hand where she perched beside him.
“Maris was letting you sleep in,” he said warmly.“She told me how you stayed out late, fetching the doctor.”
Maris flushed pink and ducked her head, her hands clasped tight.“It was nothing, Papa.”
Nothing?Serena thought bitterly.She had climbed a mountain alone, carrying only a lantern.And yet here sat Maris, basking in his praise as though she’d been the one to do it.
“I did,” Serena said.“Maris, fetch Papa some fresh water and whatever bread is left.”
Her sister hesitated, reluctant to leave his side, but rose.She bent to kiss his cheek before slipping past Serena and hurrying to the kitchen.
Papa turned his eyes to Serena at last.He held out a hand, beckoning her closer.“Come, child.”
She crossed to the bed, perched on the edge of the chair, and took his hand.His fingers were warm, strong.She searched his face, astonished at the change.
“Are you better?”she asked, tentative.
He nodded.“Whatever the doctor gave me worked.I should thank him.”
“Oh,” she said softly.“That’s not necessary, Papa.”
“Yes, it is,” he insisted.“I hope you paid him properly.”
“Of course,” she murmured.Though the memory blurred in her mind.She remembered only the Well.The man.The golden elixir.Not how she had paid.
“Good.”He slipped his hand from hers, already pushing aside the blankets.“Now, I’ll get up.Too long I’ve been lying in this bed.”
“What do you think you’re doing?”she demanded, rushing to the other side.
“There’s work to be done, Serena,” he said firmly.
“No, Papa.”Her voice sharpened.She placed her hands on his shoulders to give him a firm but gentle nudge.He sank back to the bed.“You should rest.”
He opened his mouth, but Maris bustled back in with a cup of water and the last of the bread.“I brought this,” she said.“It’s all we have.”
Papa’s eyes softened as he looked at her.“You take it, my little dove.”
Maris shook her head, cheeks pink.“No, Papa.”
His stomach growled.Serena crossed her arms.“Eat it.Maris and I will be fine.I’ll bake more bread, and I’ll go hunting later.”
“Hunting?”His brows shot up.“Since when do you hunt?”
Maris piped up helpfully, “She brought home rabbits once.”
Papa gaped at Serena.“Rabbits?”
