The world Aurie was living in was strange. It was as if the earth had split open and tore their peaceful home away to create a new one. Her worries were big, overarching and often overwhelming before. When would she go to the market and barter for spices and herbs? When would she go to Coralin to get her fruits while she waited on her own to blossom and ripen? What coins could be spared for thread and furs from Annabelle Villiers, Balthazar’s wife? Or for cotton fabrics from her sister, Leta? The thought of carrying water from the river was once her most harrowing chores, one she would avoid for most of the week and often placed on Maud for that reason. Laundry and cooking was always her favorite because of how simple and easy they were. But no longer.

  Those were the common ones. The one that once consumed her, and still did, was also who would her daughter marry? Because marriage, Aurie knew, was the easiest way to ensure that her daughter never felt what she had in her youth. Hunger.

  Aurie pressed a needle into the top of her bread to see if any dough stuck to it. The flames of the hearth licked at the bottom of the pan she had suspended over it by thin iron chains. No dough stuck to it. With a cloth over both her hands, she lifted the stiff bread from the pan and set it on a cloth she had laid out on the table. Once it cooled, she would cut it and trickle the greasy broth from the stew over the slices before sprinkling the herbs and powdered spices and adding chunks of the remaining venison. She may not know how to cook the meat, per se, but she did know how to make a sandwich. She had watched the baker in Alcer when she was a child often enough to know that. Often with an aching belly and a mouth so dry that her lips were cracked. The memory made her shudder. Those were the worries that had returned. Memories she had sacrificed everything to prevent and they were back with a vengeance.

  How would they get spices, herbs, and fruits without bartering in Talkro? Where would she get thread, furs, fabrics, or meats from without coin? Without going into Talkro? How can she go to the river for water if her husband’s people were there, waiting for a chance to beat her again? And to send Maud? The girl could be beaten as well and worse. They were supposed to be her matches, her future husband was once hidden among them, merely waiting to catch her eye. But no longer. There was only one in the village who might consider Maud for a wife and he was older than Aurie. Not much older, but that made little difference. The man could be her father. Very well might have been if she had met him before the Ribbon Dance with Balor.

  Aurie bit her lip at the thought. The guilt made her silently curse herself. She hung the cloth on a hook and slid into her chair. They will starve if they can’t find a new way to do everything. Berone is their only option, she knew, but it was a city. Trade was terribly underpaid there. Wheat is the most valuable crop for any city and Balor could sell bales of the stalks as well for the Baron’s Men’s beds and thatching. That might render them enough coin to purchase from their market. Their market had fruits that would keep longer than a day or two after the long journey back, perhaps. Three days is a long journey for anything. She could get seeds and grow her own. It would take years for them to grow fruits. Too long.

  Alden came through the front door and set his spear beside his bed before flopping into it. Maud was shortly behind him with a toss of the basket beside the door.

  “How is Offla? Did he like the socks?” Aurie leaned her head back to look at Maud.

  “He still hasn’t come home,” Alden was lying on his back on his bed.

  “Draka, mother,” Maud went to the garden window and began pulling the pears from her dress pockets, “His name is Draka.”

  “Right,” Aurie found her glance wandering to the steam rolling off the bread in front of her, “Draka. Did you bring back the seasons, then? You put so much in there.”

  “We put it all in the stew,” Alden answered for her.

  “All of it?” Aurie twisted in her chair toward Maud with narrowed eyes. “That’s a bit much, don’t you think? And you went inside without him home again? I thought I told you…”

  Maud slammed the last pear into the wide bowl on top of the others and spun to walk past her. Under her breath, Aurie heard, “As if that matters anymore.”

  “What if Offla doesn’t want you there without him? That is not your home.”

  “Draka! His name is Draka!”

  “People will talk, Maudeline!” Aurie leapt from her chair.

  Maud halted her steps just before reaching her ladder. Alden let out a long, loud breath.

  “If they see you going in and out of his house without him, they’ll think you’re his servant, or worse—his whore!”

  “So?” Maud blinked at her with a wave of her hands. Ever since that night, she had been more challenging than when she first bled. What happened to her calm, quiet, meek little Windleaf? Who glowered at her now was the opposite of all those things. Anger and bitterness were all she could see across her sleek frame. “Let them talk.”

  “Please stop fighting,” Alden shook his head on his pillow.

  “If your reputation is sullied in Berone, too,” Aurie rushed to face her challenge, jabbing a finger toward the ground, “then you won’t be allowed to Ribbon Dance even with your dowry! It will spread to Alcer as well, where will we find you a husband then? Have you thought about that?”

  Maud narrowed her eyes into that fierce glare again. “Have you thought about how little that matters now? What, you think they’ll just suddenly forget that they want to kill us now that the Baron’s Men are here? I’m not looking for a husband anyway.”

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  “Obviously not. Why would you consider anything for your future?”

  Maud rolled her eyes with a sardonic laugh.

  Aurie balled her fists with a stomp, “You can’t live here forever. We can’t keep feeding you like you’re still a child. You have to start thinking about more than what’s in front of you. You want to be seen as a woman, start acting like one!”

  “Will you please stop?” Alden clenched his eyes shut.

  “Like you?” Maud stepped up to her with a stiff jaw and looked her up and down. “Tell me, Aurelie, what future did you think of when you did what you did to him?”

  “You better watch your tone with me, little girl. I. Am. Still. Your. Mother.”

  “You stopped being my mother when you took our home from us.”

  “Stop fighting!” Alden’s voice was a roar that broke into a shrill scream. They both turned to find him on his feet, gripping the spear in both hands and bearing his teeth at them.

  “Maud,” his voice was still breaking between a man’s and a child’s when he looked to her, “she is still our mother.”

  Aurie grinned toward Maud. At least one of her children understood their place still.

  Her gin faded when Alden turned on her. “And when we see Draka, unlike you and Pa, we’re going to tell him and apologize, because that’s what you do when you hurt someone. You apologize and make it better!” His voice pitched nearly to deafeningly high. Aurie’s ears rang from how thunderous he was.

  “You hurt us, Ma. You think we didn’t see what they did to you? We saw everything. Everyone we know, everything, is gone now, because of you and Pa.”

  “That’s not fair.” Aurie tried to stand her ground, but Alden only shook his head, his face squishing to the tears his anger was forcing down his face.

  “None of it is fair!” Alden growled in a scratchy squeal. “Do you know how it felt? How it felt to not know if you were going to wake up? If you were going to live? We’re scared now. Have you noticed that we can’t sleep? Maud tosses and turns all night.” Aurie softened when she saw Maud look to her feet at his words. Alden continued, “I lay in my bed wondering when they’re going to come again. When am I going to wake up to them kicking through our door or the house burning down on top of us? You’re worried about who Maud will marry? We’re worried about if we’re going to wake up again!”

  Aurie wanted to interject, wanted to say something to reassure him, but the words were lost as he shook the spear in his arms with bursts of crying as he forced himself to go on.

  “I’m not safe. I’m not safe in Talkro. I’m not safe in this house. I’m not safe in my bed. I’m not safe with this…stupid…” he threw the spear to the ground with a thud and clank, “…spear! How could she feel safe? Especially with me? Because we know the truth. That Pa can’t protect us. You can’t protect us. The only one who can is Draka!” He pointed toward Draka’s house.

  Aurie gaped. No words. Maud sank away toward her brother.

  “You think she cares about her reputation? They already think she’s a whore, ma! The soldiers offer her copper to share their beds,” Alden drew in a breath and hung his head. “You really think any of that matters anymore? What do you think will happen when the Baron’s Men leave?” Aurie’s throat went dry at the thought. “They’re going to try again. Draka’s is the only place we feel safe, ma. He protected us, stopped them from killing you, and we are going to do whatever we can to make sure that he is strong enough and wants to protect us when they come.”

  Aurie swallowed to slow her heart, to stop the welling in her eyes.

  Alden put a hand on Maud’s shoulder and reached for his spear with sunken shoulders, “Maud won’t say it, but I will. If you do what you did to Pa and make us choose between you and Draka, we’re choosing Draka.”

  Aurie was frozen. It was both of them. The reality of the world she had tried since the day they were born to protect them from had seethed its way into their home and torn it asunder. And there was nothing she could do to take it back. Everything, not just her children, had changed. Marriage, fruits, clothes, none of it meant anything if they always felt under attack.

  “Is that true?” Aurie reached a hand to Maud.

  Maud glanced at her hand and then looked back to her ladder. “I would rather be anything he wants for the rest of his life so I’m never too far away for him to protect me than feel this way for the rest of mine. Even if that means being his whore.”

  As Maud climbed up her ladder, Aurie looked at Alden, who was sliding back into his bed. “I am sorry and I’m trying to make things better.”

  “Try harder,” Alden rolled to face away from her. “We know what we’re doing. Maybe you could help us instead of picking fights with each other.”

  Maud leaned over the edge of her loft at him, “I do feel safer with you.”

  “I don’t.” Alden pulled his bear to his chest.

  Aurie stepped lightly into her room and shut the door just in time. It all spilled out of her at once, erupting from within her rushing veins, her aching heart, her muddled thoughts. She thought if she acted like nothing had changed that it would bring some semblance of normalcy back, but it had only made things worse. Everything she did made things worse. They were right and she felt it in her bones; none of them were safe without Draka.