Selene didn’t know what more to say. Her family wasn’t close, not as close as Damien’s seemed to have been. She couldn’t even imagine that kind of closeness. When her grandmother died years ago, she barely reacted. Perhaps she would miss her father if he passed away, and she would cry over Ophie, maybe even Amara, if they passed. She wasn’t sure how she would feel if her mother died. And she certainly would not be still grieving two years later.

She frowned as she pulled the blanket back over the sleeping mat. What kind of love had knit House Maris together?

Damien’s voice interrupted her thoughts. “We will be heading out soon. Let me know if you need anything before we start back on the road.”

Selene glanced over at him and nodded.

Damien left and the cabin grew silent. Selene made sure everything was put away and straightened up. Jorgen had been kind enough to let them use his home; she wanted to make sure they left it tidy. Then she walked over to one of the small windows and looked out. She spotted Damien, Taegis, and Sten standing in the middle of a small group of villagers near the community well. Thatched homes surrounded the village square.

She studied Damien. He appeared confident and strong as he spoke to those around him. The villagers smiled and laughed. They loved him. She could see it on their faces and hear it in the tone of their voices.

Selene slipped away from the window, picked up her black cloak, and pulled it over her shoulders. There had been a time when her own people loved her. Petur doted on her when she would play in the castle gardens as a little girl. The servant girls would smile when she walked by. Then she started dreamwalking and learned of their darkest secrets. Secrets she buried within her own frozen heart. Then they all whispered that she was the Lady of Ice.

She clenched her hand and held it over her chest. Did her heart even exist anymore? The chilling numbness had become such a part of her that she was afraid it was all that was left.

She pulled her hood over her head and opened the door. Not wanting to attract attention, she made her way along the outskirts of the village to where she’d spotted Karl and Cohen standing on the other side. Only a few people noticed her, but she kept her head low, allowing her hood to hide her features. She caught Damien’s last words of thanks as she reached the men.

“Lord Damien is a lot like his father,” Cohen said quietly, a smile on his face. His light-colored hair stuck out around his head like stalks of hay.

Karl nodded, his arms folded across his chest. His dark, curly hair was damp, and there were circles beneath his eyes. “Yes, he is. And well respected too, just like Lord Remfrey was.” His eyes slid over to Selene. “House Maris has always been respected.” There was a hint of malice in his words.