“I’ll be back, promise you me,” Maud had nearly forgotten to say it when she went out the door but caught herself on the edge of the porch.

  Draka looked…amused, she was pretty sure. His grin was warm, but not full. His eyes were a little narrow at her, but it really seemed like they were smiling. He had a cocked brow and his head seemed forever tilted toward his long auburn hair that glittered with grays draping over one ear.

  She took another step, then turned back, “You’ll be here, right?”

  The grin turned defensive. He looked over his shoulder and back to her with a shrugging shake of his head.

  “Okay,” Maud nodded, smiling.

  She wanted him to be home. To always be home. But he was her protector and he looked ready to go do some protecting with that coat on. She didn’t know if the half turn of her head and the skeptical grin she put on was enticing, loving, flirty, hopeful…it felt natural. “I’ll have hot stew ready for when you come home, then. Promise you me, it’ll be a good one.”

  He beamed and bowed his head. That meant ‘thank you.’ Her barbarian knight. And more. So much more. She leapt down the steps and went to where Alden was swishing water around in the pot.

  “Well, what did he say?”

  Maud had never seen the sky like this before. It was light, but not bright. A color she had never seen. She pointed, “What color is that?”

  Alden stiffened. “The plowing rivers kind of question is that?”

  “I’m serious,” she slapped his shoulder. “I’ve never seen it before. I always thought it was a sort of in between color of white and purple.”

  “Blue, Maud,” Alden blinked at her. “It’s blue. Like Ma’s eyes.”

  “Ma’s eyes are purple,” Maud began doing circles, her head toward the sky. Then to the tops of the trees. She had never seen the leaves this way. When the wind tossed them, they would lighten in color, flickering in a thousand different shades all at once. The trees were even colorful. “That’s why Pa always picked those rocks.”

  “Yeah,” Alden sounded distant. She stopped her circles and looked at him. His brows were pursed and his eyes were narrow at her over a gaping mouth.

  His eyes!

  She grabbed the back of his head and tried to pry one as wide as she could so she could see if he had as many colors as Draka.

  He swatted at her, “Wha—what are you doing? Get off me!”

  “You don’t have as many colors as Draka but your eyes are a lot of different colors of the same color,” she had one eye closed and her tongue stuck out as she tried to lean in closer to see every detail. “There’s a light one in there. You know,” she leaned back only long enough to say matter-of-factly, “your eyes are oddly dark for someone who looks like a carrot with a face.”

  “What are you—Get. Off!” Alden shoved her back. “And they’re green, just like yours but darker.”

  Maud only skipped into her rhythmic sway, “What? I think you have pretty eyes. Not as pretty as Draka’s but pretty. They’re kind of the same color as the leaves. Well, colors. Look at that one,” she pointed, Alden didn’t follow her finger. He fixed on her. “See, light, dark, kind of dark, lighter…that one is a little too light, don’t you think?”

  “Green. Did a spider bite you?”

  “No. Oh, the clouds! Look, they’re white, sort of white, there’s dark white. How is white dark like that?”

  “Gray. Did you fall and hit your head?”

  “No. Alden you’re missing it!” She stomped at him and pointed again to the sky and the passing clouds. “If you look close, some of them are really a light blue.”

  “If I look close, I might actually find my sister somewhere in the madwoman standing in front of me.”

  “I’m not mad,” Maud laughed giddily. She rushed to him and grabbed his hands.

  His brows pushed even closer together at her, but she was undeterred. She held his hands firmly in hers, drawing his eyes to meet hers.

  “Alden, I can see. I can see all of it. Like, I can see that your hair isn’t just one color, but some are darker, some are lighter, some are bright. I don’t know what the colors are called because I’ve never seen them before! But now I can! I think I might have been blind, but I’m not anymore. See?”

  Alden was nodding as she was talking, but his answer was still a resounding, “No. What are you talking about?”

  “Aldy,” Maud smiled as widely as ever, “I can see all the colors. There are so many.”

  Alden blinked. “You were never blind, Maud. You never got colors right—like Pa—but you were never blin…You can see the colors!”

  “Yes!” They both began jumping and cheering.

  This text was taken from Royal Road. Help the author by reading the original version there.

  Alden stopped first, his eyes on her hands, “You’re not shaking.”

  “I’m not shaking,” Maud stretched her neck proudly.

  “You’re not shaking,” Alden lifted her hand. “How are you not shaking?”

  Maud looked to the porch at the same moment that Draka stepped onto it with his metal spear in hand and a quiver of arrows slung at his side. His shield and bow were hanging on his back.

  Maud felt her heart skip at the sight. He’ll be back tonight, she reminded herself as her smile faded. Her stomach turned to knots as he trotted across the road and into the forest behind his shack.

  “Draka,” she said with her breath, her eyes fixed on where he disappeared. She turned them back to Alden, “Draka did it. Well, his God did, I guess. He kept saying he prayed and his God filled me, like a cup. Like I was an empty cup. I didn’t like that he called me an empty cup, to be honest.”

  “Draka? Wait. His God did this?”

  “I guess I should be glad he didn’t say I was the bucket. That would have been just plain disrespectful.”

  “Cup. Why would he call you a cup? Did he make you drink something?”

  “But a cup is kind of, you know, wider at the top, narrow at the bottom. And I don’t like being called empty either. How could you say someone is empty of all things? Why would you? An empty cup. Filled by his God. Well, if I get pregnant, we know who’s the father, won’t we.”

  “Pregnant!” Alden jerked her by her arms. “What did you do?”

  “Hey!” Maud tried to shake from him.

  “You were supposed to tell him you’d marry him, not ‘get your cup filled’ by his ‘god’! The fact that he would call it that…and you go along with it. What has gotten in your head, woman?”

  “No, Aldy,” Maud kicked his shin. He let go of her arms and she rolled her eyes at him. “He didn’t—we didn’t do that. And…gross. If I ever hear of you referring to your you know what as a god, I’ll vomit.”

  She took a deep breath and brushed her hair from where it had fallen over her face. “He thought I was shaking because I was scared or embarrassed. I dropped his sandwich and broke grandma’s plate.” She heard a board tip over and her ears perked. “Race me.”

  “What?”

  “Race me down the path and I’ll tell you!” And Maud took off at a sprint off of the road, along the side of Draka’s house, and into the woods.

  It was a rush of colors. Light colored leaves, bright buds, browns. A thousand different kinds of browns. And greens. She had never seen so many different sorts of greens. The bushes were one kind of green, the leaves in the trees were a thousand. The moss was clusters of even more kinds of green. She put her arms out to her sides and leapt into a spin, into a swirling dance like the one she would soon do for the Ribbon Dance. She can hold onto the ribbon now. She clasped her hands as if they were the most precious things she had ever owned.

  Alden nearly fell to the ground once he caught up to her, trying to catch his breath in between gulping coughs. “You. Little. Shit. I’m. Not. That. Fast.”

  “I always thought the forest was pretty, but I never knew it was this beautiful,” Maud began doing circles, staring up at the canopy of leaves above her.

  “Now, about Draka filling your cup,” Alden leaned on his spear, still heaving for air. He glared.

  Maud laughed. “That’s not—alright, it wasn’t that. He grabbed my hands and I saw this light from them. When the light was gone, so was the shaking. And I could see all of…” She held her hands outward and spun, “this!”

  “You said you were a cup and he filled you. Not going to lie, Maud, I’m waiting to figure that one out before I go to Pa.”

  “I asked him what he did. He kept telling me that he prayed,” she mimicked his signals and pointed to above her, “and his God answered,” she wagged her fingers as she slowly brought her hand down, “that’s how he did it.” She shrugged, “I didn’t understand. So, he kept doing the same thing but then said that I was a cup and he poured water into it from the bucket, which apparently was his God filling me up.”

  “And the pregnancy part?”

  “I was jesting, Aldy, I’m not going to get pregnant,” she looked up to the sky. “Right? I mean, that shouldn’t be what happens. I could, though.” Her gaze fell to her brother’s confused stare, “But not yet. Maybe. Or not.” She laughed again, “I’m sure I’ll figure it out.”

  “Maybe we can start with where his God filled you up.”

  “Ugh, will you stop with that already?” Maud grabbed his hands again, “I’m not pregnant. His God didn’t hump me, he didn’t do anything other than make everything…better. I’m not pregnant.” With a dower seriousness, “Do not tell Pa that I’m pregnant, or could be pregnant, Alden. Please, enjoy this with me. I’m happy right now. I’m not afraid. I wasn’t afraid of the soldiers when I walked outside, I just didn’t want them to hear us. I’m not afraid anymore. I’m happy.”

  “So, you and he are…”

  “Alden,” Maud grabbed his shoulder and leaned her head for their eyes to meet to make certain he understood, “I’m happy. Can I just be happy without thinking about who I breed with? Just this once, can we enjoy what we have, what’s around us, above us, everything and not think about me finding a husband? I didn’t talk to him about my dowry or any of that. Because why would I? I feel amazing right now. If I’m to be his wife, then this will be the day I tell everyone I knew he was for me. If I’m not, then this will be the day that I tell everyone about the greatest, most wonderful, awesome gift anyone ever gave me.”

  Alden nodded, a smile slowly creeping through his confusion. It erupted across his face when Maud threw her arms around him.

  “Second best gift, I mean. You will always be the greatest gift I was ever given. You’re a good brother, Aldy-bear. And you do make me feel safer. I’ve always been proud of being your sister and the man you’re becoming. I love you,” she kissed his cheek, tasting tears. His colorful green eyes were spilling over a wide smile. She pecked his nose. “You’re the best. Now, let’s go home and get some stuff for Draka’s stew.”

  Alden nodded, sniveling. As she turned from him, he grabbed her hand and tugged her into another hug, “I love you too, Windleaf. I’m so happy for you. I am.” He let her go and wiped his wrist across his nose. “But I think we need to go back first.”

  “Why?”

  He was wiping at his tears, “You forgot the basket.”