Reed dug the frozen ground so hard that his hands got numb. His fingers barely obeyed and it was painful to breathe. The frosty air burned his lungs and Reed began to tire, but he couldn’t stop. Nearby, Adrian and Gerard worked at a small wagon, hauling out the corpses. Reed was no idiot. He knew why Salvat had woken them up at night, ordered to leave their armor and finish the task before dawn. The corpses in the wagon were a secret that wasn’t meant to be revealed.

  Six bodies were wrapped in bloody cloth. The blood had already turned to ice, yielding to the night frost. Reddish icicles grew on the wet surface, gathering into bizarre patterns of the life leaked away.

  No one asked questions but they exchanged anxious glances from time to time as they bit into the frozen soil. Adrian, contrary to his nature, did not speak. Gerard looked as if everything they did that night didn’t even surprise him.

  No one wanted to dig a separate grave for each corpse, so they decided to dig a common one. It didn’t matter anyway. It was not even a funeral after all. Why bother if all that was required of them was to get rid of the bodies as soon as possible? Reed did not know who was supposed to vanish without a trace in the Maple Garden that night. Yet he was not sure he wanted to know. The cloth, despite the frost, still stank of blood. Or so it seemed to Reed. He was not new to the smell of blood, but he had not expected to encounter it like this.

  When Adrian finally dropped his shovel, Reed straightened up too. His back was aching and he could barely hold the shovel.

  "That’s enough," Adrian exhaled, leaning over to catch his breath.

  "Not enough," Reed replied. "In the spring, the ground will settle. If the grave won’t be deep enough rain will wash it out. And everything we’ve buried will be scattered across the garden. Worse if some beast finds it. Then, it’ll come bite us in the ass."

  "Maybe they’ll rot by spring anyway."

  "They won’t," Gerard grunted. He belonged to the platinum cloaks and supposedly should not have been here with Reed and Adrian. "Reed is right. By morning, they’ll freeze in the ground and will only begin to melt in the spring, just like the ground above them. And it’ll stink. So fucking dig. The less you chatter, the faster we finish."

  Reed exchanged a glance with Gerard, who only nodded silently and set back to work. They finished only by dawn.

  "We’re late," Adrian groaned, wiping sweat from his forehead.

  "Keep talking and we’ll be done by noon," Gerard grumbled. "Dump them."

  Adrian spat and began dumping the corpses into the pit, while Reed tried not to think about what he was doing. When Adrian threw the last body into the ground, the cloth slipped and Reed saw the body of a woman. Adrian winced and Gerard remained impassive, immediately grabbing his shovel. Everything inside Reed went cold. The woman lying in the damp pit had no hands. He knew only one reason why people’s hands were severed in Forfield and Bradenmain. Her face was calm, as if she were merely sleeping rather than taking her final rest in a nameless grave.

  Reed examined her body and something in his mind did not add up. She certainly could not have died at an execution because there had been no public executions in the capital for a long time. And her hands did not look like they had been severed recently. There was blood on her face and in her mouth but not on the stumps. They looked as if they had been severed several Moons ago. They looked almost healed. Reed stood and stared, unable to move. Monstrous conjectures tormented his mind, but not one of them seemed plausible.

  All of it felt like madness. Old memories of the hunt and how he had killed Meredith’s mother surfaced in his memory, and Reed staggered, nearly falling. He did everything he could to avoid remembering it, but as luck would have it, fate would not let him forget.

  Gerard approached Reed and caught him by the arm.

  "Don’t look at them, kid. Don’t. Try to forget you ever saw them. It’ll be easier that way."

  Gerard returned the shovel to Reed and began to fill the pit. Only when the dirt covered the woman’s face Reed managed to begin. He worked, thinking. He was unable to shake off those disturbing thoughts. Certainly, that woman was a mage, but why was she not executed after her hands were cut off? Who hid her in the castle and why? And why did she die? Why did her death have to remain a secret? A secret so serious that a stray word about what happened in the garden would sign a death sentence for everyone present. Reed turned these questions over in his head.

  This mystery was so terrifying that Reed was afraid to uncover it. One thing he knew for sure: if Salvat was killing mages within the castle walls, Reed would not want to bury corpses again one day and see a familiar face among the dead. If he saw Meredith there, he would probably kill everyone he could reach. After all, someone loved that woman in the grave too. Yet no one would avenge her and no one would even know she was dead or where she found rest.

  When they finished, Gerard ordered Adrian to hide the cart as quickly as possible. Adrian disappeared from sight while Gerard pulled out some tobacco and lit up, and then they slowly walked back.

  "Haven't done this often, have you?" Gerard asked, glancing at Reed who was still pale.

  Reed nodded briefly, a lump forming in his throat.

  "You'll get used to it," Gerard said, and it seemed he did not even believe his own words. Smiling faintly into his thick, gray beard, he handed Reed some tobacco wrapped in thin paper. "Want some?"

  "Why?"

  "It helps."

  Reed silently took the cigarette. Gerard gave him a light and Reed inhaled the heavy smoke, coughing.

  "You do this often?" Reed looked back at the Maple Garden.

  "Not often, but sometimes," Gerard replied. "I started doing this back when I wore a bronze cloak. You won't believe me, but there are more corpses buried in the Maple Garden than there are trees planted. Salvat sometimes orders them to be buried there. This time there were not many."

  "Who are they?"

  "Mages, clearly," Gerard replied. "No one had hands, you saw it yourself. As many graves as I've dug for them, I've never seen anyone with hands. We bury the mages, but if only we knew there was a reason for it."

  "I don't understand..."

  "You don't need to, brother," Gerard took a deep drag, exhaling clouds of gray smoke. "Everyone has their own business here, and the less you know, the safer you'll be."

  "And aren't you curious why they died here? How do they get into the castle and why do they die? They used to be executed, but now they say there are almost no mages left. Is that really so? Are you really not curious why Salvat doesn't want anyone to find out about them? It seems shady."

  "I don’t care. It's not my business. But you're too smart and too curious. Someday, someone will think that for all your wits and curiosity, you are also far too alive. Stop asking such questions. I wouldn't want to end up burying you in the Maple Garden too. Understand?"

  Reed nodded and took a drag. The smoke burned his lungs, but it truly was calming. His head spun and he felt like coughing.

  "Good luck, Reed," Gerard patted him on the shoulder and handed him another portion of tobacco. "Keep quiet and think less. See you."

  "See you," Reed muttered to Gerard, who was already heading for the servants' entrance. He remembered Gray and now partly understood why the old bastard had loved tobacco so much. Reed smirked. Gray could have been a comrade to him if he hadn't been such a bastard. Yet Gray paid the price for being a bastard already.

  Reed threw the smoldering remains of the cigarette into the snow and walked after Gerard.

  ***

  Several days had passed since the night six extra bodies were buried in the Maple Garden. Reed kept quiet, just as Gerard had advised, and continued reporting on Rene to Salvat. He grew more certain that Maró, despite all his secrets and omissions, had a legitimate reason to order the hit. Salvat conducted strange and gruesome business, hiding under the cover of night and behind the backs of those he considered expendable.

  Reed did not need to know all the details. It was enough to piece together what he already knew. Now it was clear why Rene had not been eager to help in the dungeon. Salvat was killing mages and Rene was helping him. How, why, in what quantities or for what reason they did so did not matter at all. Mages were dying and Reed already knew that not every mage deserved death. Moreover, everything was done quietly. The people were told that almost no mages were left and that the hunt had become a rare thing, but only the Mother herself knew how many mages were within the castle walls or buried in the Maple Garden.

  Meredith had to be more careful. Reed had been right to be angry with her for helping in the tournament after all. The hunt for mages had not stopped. It had merely moved into the shadows, and he did not want to find out what happened to them before he and Gerard buried them. Now, killing Salvat did not seem like a whim. Reed hated the advisor for dragging him back into crimes against those he wished no ill. He thought more and more about how his own stupidity had broken Meredith’s life. It was frightening to realize that history was repeating itself, only on a much larger scale. Salvat was turning Reed into someone he did not want to be.

  When Reed realized that the necessity of killing Salvat had become a personal matter and a decent plan had already matured in his head, he was assigned to city patrol again. At that moment, he did not even think about how Maró had never mentioned the murders of mages in the castle. According to him, the necessity of Salvat's death was that the man had found out too much about Maró and his associates. If he had compared these two striking differences in reasons back then, everything would have been different, but Reed did not remember his first conversation with Maró or his words. Now, it no longer mattered.

  Evening was already falling and it was time to return, but Reed could not simply leave. His comrades had already disappeared into the nearest tavern. After the patrol, they had only two hours of personal time and Reed barely shook off Adrian, who persistently invited him for a drink. He did not intend to spend this time on incoherent chatter and cheap swill.

  He knew where to find Hans, knew what he had to say and now he pushed through the crowd of townspeople toward the fish stall. Hans fit the role of a merchant about as much as Reed fit the title of a king. He was too scrawny for a fisherman, looking more like a herdsman. It was surprising that the guard had not noticed him yet. Nevertheless, the boy lively called out to the crowd.

  Reed came closer and gave Hans a short nod. They had an agreement with Maró. Hans would wait for him at the market until dark every two Moons if Reed had something to say. And now, after so much time, Reed finally had something to say.

  He approached the counter, pretending to be interested in the fish.

  "The fish is fresh today," Reed said barely audibly.

  "Of course, sir," Hans beamed.

  "I’m gonna go fishing myself soon," Reed smiled meaningfully.

  Hans smiled even wider. They were talking about fish, but each of them knew that the conversation was far from fish.

  "I wish you luck then, sir." Hans looked around and when Reed was about to leave, he called out. "By the way, my mother used to cook fish with apples. It is a good recipe. You should try it. You won't regret it."

  "Thank you." Reed bowed slightly, catching Hans's gaze for a split second. When he realized what the boy was hinting at, his heart skipped a beat. He managed to mumble, "It really is a good recipe."

  Meredith stood in the crowd, looking straight at him while clutching a basket of apples. Reed gasped for air and all his troubling thoughts suddenly vanished. He stopped thinking about Salvat or the hit. She was near, even if Reed could not touch her. She was near.

  This narrative has been purloined without the author's approval. Report any appearances on Amazon.

  His face expressed no emotion as he moved toward her. Meredith walked to meet him and every step felt infinite. Meredith looked like an ordinary, poor townswoman, but to Reed, she was more beautiful than any queen. When they almost passed each other, Meredith cried out, stumbling. The basket fell from her hands and apples rolled across the snow. The kreyghars around continued their way, bypassing Meredith. Reed thought that he could take advantage of this without causing suspicion. He leaned over, picked up two apples and before dropping them into the basket, he caught her eye. Meredith blushed, giving him a smile.

  "Thank you, sir," she said softly.

  Reed smiled back, his cheeks burning. Their fingers touched for only a moment as they put the apples back into the basket, but that touch was more precious than all the riches one could desire. The cursed apples returned to the basket all too quickly and he stood up. Meredith stood up too. She fidgeted with the edge of her sleeve with chilled fingers, casting fleeting glances at Reed from time to time.

  "What a beautiful day," he said softly.

  "Yes." Meredith reached for the basket.

  Her palm barely touched Reed’s hand and his heart skipped a beat again.

  "May I walk you? The basket is heavy."

  "Oh, you probably have no time for me."

  "Actually, I do," Reed mumbled, chortling foolishly.

  She nodded silently and turned. Reed took the basket from her and they moved together toward the residential buildings. To anyone around, it might have seemed that he was simply going about his usual business in the city, helping, protecting and maintaining order. Reed helping a woman carry a heavy basket should not have aroused suspicion.

  "You live somewhere around here?"

  "For now, yes," Meredith answered quietly, turning toward the poor quarters.

  "For now?"

  "Hans will sell the fish and we are going home."

  They stopped at an old, frail house with one room. Her hand lay on the cold wood and before opening the door, Meredith asked, "Tea?"

  Reed nodded. The room was small and poor. He knew Meredith did not live there, but he still felt a touch of embarrassment. It was as if they were seeing each other for the first time. Their eyes met. Meredith looked at him hungrily, as if trying to understand if he was real.

  She did not have time to say anything because Reed took two large steps and kissed her, cupping her face in his hands. Meredith gasped and pressed against him despite his armor being icy cold. The moments of the kiss stretched out, threatening to break off at any second. Reed wished to prolong them so he held Meredith tighter, and his hold was almost forceful. Finally, she pulled away, gazing at him with her dark eyes. Reed smiled, letting Meredith go, but she did not step back. She only traced her fingertips over his cheek and nose, then moved to his lips.

  "I miss you so much," he whispered, trying to steal at least one more kiss.

  "Me too," her voice trembled as she spoke.

  Meredith pressed her lips to his cheek. The air seemed in short supply, making Reed inhale convulsively. No woman in the whole world had ever kissed him like that. With love. And he’d never reacted to anyone else like that because he loved no one else.

  He leaned to her neck, tracing patterns on the soft, fair skin with his tongue. Meredith almost groaned and when Reed squeezed her waist, holding her closer, she could not hold back. He enjoyed every sound that escaped her lips. He got bolder and pushed aside the collar of her warm dress, his lips descending to her collarbones and chest. Meredith's breathing quickened while Reed showered her skin with feather-light caresses.

  "Hans will be back any moment," Meredith whispered, but she did not pull away.

  "I don't care," Reed breathed heavily, his lips still touching her collarbone.

  "For now," she giggled, struggling to catch her breath. Meredith was flushed and her eyes burned with passion. Her lips said one thing, but her body shouted another.

  "Should I stop?" Reed asked with a smirk, adjusting the collar of her dress.

  She exhaled heavily and he did not hold her.

  "How much time you have?"

  "Not much," Reed winced.

  "As always, right?"

  He nodded awkwardly, looking at her flushed face and swollen lips. It pleased him to realize that this was because of him.

  "I..." Meredith started but could not finish. The words stuck and she could not utter them. Strangely, Reed understood what she wanted to say, for he was thinking the same thing.

  He leaned in and his hands rested on her shoulders. "Don't."

  "Hector, they could kill you." She scanned his face with a worried look and there was more love in it than Reed could ever have dared to wish for.

  "When was it ever different?" He let out a dismal chuckle, tucking a stray lock of hair behind her ear.

  "Now everything is different. I think about it every day and every day I regret dragging you into this. If I could change anything... Every time I asked Hans to take me with him, but you were never there and there was no news. And I was scared, Hector. You have no idea how scared I was." She trembled.

  "Don't think about me. I'll be fine," Reed touched her chin with a light kiss. "You should only worry about yourself."

  "I can't. I'm..."

  "Where would I return then, Dita? Where would I go if you were gone?"

  Meredith sighed and then reached for another kiss. Reed responded immediately but with more urgency. He pushed her toward the old table and when Meredith’s lower back hit it, he caught her, seating her on the worn surface. Her black eyes shimmered in the darkness, studying and enticing him.

  Meredith did not move. She just watched and then Reed, still silent, pulled the cord and his bronze cloak fell from his shoulders right onto the floor. Then he began to unbuckle the armor straps. The heavy metal breastplate shared the fate of the cloak same as pauldrons a few moments later. His fingers tangled in the laces of the under-armor that was similar to what he had used to wear before. Exposing his chest and stomach, he paused.

  Reed breathed heavily, looking at Meredith sitting on the table right in front of him. There were no more doubts, fears or unnecessary thoughts in his head. He thought only of her and how the collar of her dress had slipped from her shoulder. His hand, still encased in a gauntlet, slid along Meredith's waist, forcing her to arch toward him. She trembled and Reed felt her body tense. He saw how tightly her lips were pressed together.

  She covered his hand with her own, her touch moving to his forearm as pulled him toward her. She looked at Reed with such despair, as if her whole life depended on him. He caught her slight smile a second before Meredith kissed him. It was as cautious and soft as always and the longer she touched him, the more he flared up.

  "Tell me you love me, Hector," Meredith whispered, barely touching his lips with hers. "Tell me if you truly love me."

  "I do," he exhaled, closing his eyes. Saying this in a language she understood, he waited for her to laugh and pull away. He was afraid it was all a joke. Meredith did not laugh, did not push him away and did not justify his fear. And it was easy for Reed to tell her the truth.

  "Say it again," her voice trembled. Opening his eyes, Reed saw how she looked at him. With pleasure. Her lips, wet and so desirable, were slightly parted.

  "Love you," he repeated obediently, sealing the word on her skin with a kiss. Showering Meredith's face with kisses, he repeated it like a spell, "I love you."

  Meredith sighed almost inaudibly, and that sigh was full of relief. At that moment, Reed understood what she had feared. Somewhere inside, something pricked painfully. Reed feared the same. And right now, he did not need her to say anything at all. Her request itself told him everything he needed to know. Time and obligations no longer mattered. He was ready to give up everything, endure any punishment or even set up Maró, just to stay with her in that dirty, poor shack.

  Meredith ran her palms over his chest and stomach, tracing the scar on his ribs that he had received many years ago when he fought for a place among the Wasps. Her touch made him tremble and goosebumps ran across his body. Meredith reached under the unbuckled armor. Reed felt her fingers sliding across his back, tracing the old scars. And then she took the edges of his clothing and pulled, baring Reed's shoulders. He helped her, throwing the clothes aside. She lingered on every scar and every curve, and then their eyes met.

  "I am sorry," she said, carefully tracing the scar on his shoulder with her finger.

  An arrow had been there once. Then she kissed the one on his chest, received in that same duel with the Wasps. Reaching his wrists, she noticed the old marks from shackles. Sighing heavily, she touched them with her lips as well.

  "It is the past and it no longer hurts," he whispered, catching Meredith's hand and kissing her thin, long fingers. "Do not pity them."

  His palm slid along her forearm. Moving up to the collar of her dress, he pulled it down, baring her chest. Meredith's breathing quickened, but she did not pull away. She shuddered slightly when Reed touched the pale scar beneath her collarbone. Soon, his fingers were replaced by his lips. Suddenly, Reed pulled away. Silently, looking at her face, he began to undo the remaining fasteners of her dress. He reached the last one and lowered his eyes. The warmth of her skin enticed and drew him in, but he did not want to rush. Slowly, as if in a dream, he carefully touched her neck with his lips and then his tongue, descending toward her chest. His hands wandered over Meredith's body while she gasped for air, breathless, her fingers tangling in his hair as she yielded to his caresses. Soon, she began to kiss him back, covering him with soft touches everywhere she could reach, and Reed's movements became bolder with every passing moment.

  At some point, he realized that he had to either continue or stop. He did not want to stop and his hand quickly dove under Meredith's skirt. He gently spread her legs and she immediately wrapped them around his waist, pulling him closer. With a shy movement, Meredith slid her hand over his stomach toward his belt and then lower. Her hands were driving him crazy. She knew it and she did all this intentionally. Meredith played with his hair, running her fingers through his light locks while he slowly stroked her waist and hips. Then, he covered her breast with his palm and their lips met again. Meredith reached for his pants. Her fingers were stiff and her hands shook. Covering her palm with his own, Reed moved her hand away and unfastened both belts himself, letting Meredith finally bare him.

  What followed, Reed could not have imagined even in his boldest fantasies. It seemed like a dream, but Meredith was real and belonged to him. He spread her legs wider, shamelessly hiking up her skirt. Meredith arched, her chest touching his skin while Reed freed her from the remnants of her clothing. Before Meredith finally became his woman, he paused to give her another kiss. She groaned softly into his lips when Reed pushed forward. Meredith's nails dug into his back, leaving marks, but he did not notice the pain. Reed did not notice anything around him except her.

  She cried out louder when Reed sped up and at some point, a hoarse groan escaped his lips. One hand buried in her hair as the other one held Meredith's hips. He moved at a steady pace. He did not rush, but he did not make her wait either. He caught her lips with his own and pressed her closer, though it seemed that closer was no longer possible.

  He wanted to hold time, but that was the ultimate injustice. When you want it to go faster, time drags like tar, but when you want to hold it, it always slips away. It seemed Meredith was leaving him along with the flow of time and he could do nothing to stop it. A moment would come when they would have to break the embrace and go back into the unknown. In this unknown, there would now be more longing, but the memory of her and this night would also be with him. And for that, Reed was ready for anything.

  Meredith’s breathing quickened and her hands began to slide chaotically over his chest and shoulders while her legs squeezed Reed’s waist almost to the point of pain. He felt her tension, for the same tension built up inside him. The bond with Meredith was like nothing he had experienced before. Meredith herself was like no one else, so why should her love be any different? His lips pressed to Meredith’s neck, even though the skin there was already flushed. For some time, she would wear the marks of his passion. Reed began to move faster as groans escaped his lips. Their eyes met, their breathing intertwined and Meredith bit her lip. Reed was certain there was nothing in the world more beautiful than her taking pleasure in his arms.

  And then she gave a faint cry, hiding her face in the hollow between his shoulder and neck while pressing her whole body against him. Reed felt the waves of her pleasure wash over him as well and could wait no longer. His movements became jagged and chaotic, just like his thoughts at that moment. Reed breathed hoarsely and heavily, trying to maintain some semblance of caution, and then the same wave overwhelmed him. His body grew weak, as if he had cast off a titanic burden. Reed ran his fingers through Meredith’s hair and let out a quiet breath, listening to her heart as it slowed down.

  "I love you," Meredith whispered, still pressed against him. Her fingers traced strange patterns on his shoulder while he tried to catch his breath.

  "I love you," Reed answered briefly, kissing her temple.

  No matter how much he wished otherwise, he had to break the circle of their embrace and let go of her and her warmth. Meredith did not hold him back. While Reed dressed, she sat on the table. Her legs were trembling and goosebumps covered her skin.

  "Are you cold?" he asked. For some reason, he felt somewhat awkward looking into her eyes after everything that had happened between them, but he could no longer turn away. Meredith was not a woman for one night. The longing to love her did not leave him the moment they let go of each other. He still wanted all of her, even more than before. He wanted her forever, not just for one time.

  "No," she sighed almost inaudibly and jumped off the table, adjusting her dress. Reed watched her careful movements and her perfectly smooth gestures. He knew she tried to hide nervousness that way. Her fingers still would not obey her and she did not look at him either. As she struggled with the fasteners, she asked, "What will happen now, Hector?"

  "What do you mean?" He blinked in confusion.

  "What will happen to us?"

  Reed smiled and stepped closer. He helped fasten the disobedient hooks and buttons, gently touched her lips and replied, "Everything will be fine with us. I’m yours, Dita. Even if you have nothing left in the whole world, I’ll still be yours."

  Hearing these words, Meredith lit up. Her cheeks flushed and she muttered something unintelligible.

  "I gotta go. I’m already late," Reed twitched his cheek in annoyance and picked up his cloak, tangling in its folds.

  "Will you be punished?" Meredith straightened the disobedient fabric.

  "Not fatally."

  "Be careful, Hector."

  "Of course," Reed beamed and then briefly kissed Meredith’s cheek. "We’ll see each other soon, I promise. Soon I’ll do what I promised Maró and come back to you."

  "Good," Meredith placed her palm against her burning face.

  Reed was ready to go, but still, he could not. The door seemed like a nightmare into which he had to immerse himself again, voluntarily giving up Meredith and her love. For him, it had all been too fast. Suddenly, Reed froze right at the door.

  "May I ask you something?"

  "Of course."

  "Do you know why Maró wants Salvat dead?"

  "He learned too much about the Order. We can’t act freely and they’re searching for us all over Forfield. Did he tell you about this?"

  "He did," Reed nodded contentedly, adjusting his cloak.

  "Hector, why that question?"

  At first, he was slightly confused. He involuntarily twitched his cheek and looked away, the usual ritual for someone about to lie.

  "I’m trying to find something out. I don’t have a clear explanation. Something’s wrong, but I don’t know what it is yet. Please, don’t tell anyone what I just told you."

  If his words were taken from another perspective, Reed had not even lied. He was simply withholding information, as he truly had no clear explanation. Meredith pursed her lips and hugged her shoulders, worry frozen on her face.

  "Alright," she finally said. "Don’t disappear for long."

  "Deal," Reed forced himself to smile and noticed it turned out quite well.

  Before the door closed behind him, Meredith kissed his lips again and he felt himself blush.

  The frosty air and the evening darkness brought him back to his senses a little. Reed wrapped himself in his cloak and moved toward the castle. Along the way, he noticed Hans, who apparently should have returned long ago and was now diligently pretending to be interested in the scenery of the poor quarters. Suppressing a smirk, Reed sped up.

  He knew what awaited him and wanted to get it over with quickly. He had not returned from patrol on time, but if he had a chance to change everything, Reed would have changed nothing. He would still have gone with Meredith and done what he did because she was worth any punishment.