Page 143 of The Thornwyck Rose

Moonlight caught a flicker of movement at the lake’s edge. The soft outline of a woman came into view as he came closer.

Seren. Her veil lay forgotten, and her slippers were cast aside.

She sat alone. Her bare feet stirred the water, rippling the moon’s reflection. Her skirts were gathered in her hand on her thighs, revealing the leg lines he’d only dreamed of. The moon lit the waves and her light olive skin with equal devotion.

Seren’s braid had unraveled, loose strands glowing like silver thread in the night, long like he remembered.

She didn’t see him, and Margot lay nearby, curled under a traveling cloak like a loyal hound dozing on watch.

He should have turned back to not cause a scandal if they were found together with her so bare. But his gaze wouldn’t leave her. Her shoulders rose and fell with tired breaths. She wasn’t washing or praying, just staring at the water with sad, vacant eyes.

For the first time in all their long years together, she looked entirely unguarded. She wasn’t behind a veil or rigid in her duties and expectations. She wasn’t fighting against a world that caged her free spirit and made her someone she was not.

He remembered Astrid like that.

Watching Seren then, the same ache bloomed in his ribs that said,I’ll take my love for you to my grave.

She dipped one toe deeper, then the others, and her breath hitched—whether from the cold, he wasn’t sure. Her eyes closed. Her arm was loose at her side.

Henry was dead. It was Erik’s camp. Margot was there, too. And if anyone found them together, it was his duty to make sure she was safe. No, he wasn’t leaving, not with so few moments left with her.

He stepped forward, letting his boot brush against a stone so she’d hear. She turned slightly, but not in alarm.

“Is the water cold?” he asked quietly.

She shook her head with a soft smile. “You cannot sleep either?”

“The day wore on for a number of reasons. I needed to clear my mind before sleep,” Erik said.

He stopped a few paces behind her. She didn’t bid him closer, but she didn’t ask him to leave either.

Erik stopped beside her slippers, eyes on the water. “This place is quiet. No one is listening. You don’t need to speak as a lady here.”

She didn’t answer right away. Her toes curled in the shallows.

“I used to dance around a lake like this, when I was free to be who I wanted to be,” she said. “Long before everything changed.”

He tilted his head. “Is that what you see looking into its reflection? You look peaceful. And also close to breaking.”

Seren looked back at him over her shoulder. The moon lit her lashes, and for a moment, he couldn’t breathe at her raw beauty.

“There was a circle dance my mother taught me. We’d spin with our arms out, skirts catching the wind. The steps always returned to the start.” She gave a brittle smile. “It made me think time could be undone. That maybe we could go back.”

Erik moved beside her and sat, his hands folded loosely between his knees.

Silence stretched. The wind pulled at her hair, lifting a strand to brush his shoulder.

“Too bad I was a silly girl with silly thoughts.”

His fingers slipped over hers. Their palms touched—a warmth shared between two who had bled in silence for too long.

“I planned them with you, these dances,” she went on. “One for the wedding—after the church’s, of course. Then the harvest. One for the birth of our child. One for the days our children wed, and one for when we were old and gray.” Her voice cracked. “Maybe we’ll only have the one when we’re old and gray, if the Lord wills it.”

Erik kissed her temple. “Dance them with me.”

She blinked. “Now?”

“I will dance every one of them with you,” he said. “Even if our plans end in ash, I want to carry you with me.”