I looked longingly at the flowers. Oh, how I missed the garden at Keresken; it had been my hiding place.

“Perhaps we should go pick some? For the dinner table?” Aunt Jovana suggested, noting the desire in my eyes.

“Could we?”

“Of course!”

I looked up at her thick hair. “I have a better idea.” I took her arm and pulled her into the heart of the garden, hunting for a bench. “All right, Scarlet. You find the prettiest blossoms and bring them to me.”

“Aye, aye, captain,” she joked, heading into the high walls of greenery. Etan planted himself by the edge of the garden, his back against a tall shrub. He crossed his arms, watching over everything intently.

I got Aunt Jovana to sit, and I started to pull the pins from her hair.

“What in the world are you doing?” she asked with a chuckle.

“Making a masterpiece,” I assured her. “Now sit still.”

I pulled up pieces of her hair, braiding it the way I used to braid Delia Grace’s. I wondered who took care of her now. I wondered if she missed me at all, or if Nora did. The ache of losing my family and Silas had pushed my friends from my thoughts for so long, but now that they were there, I wished I could embrace them both, even if only for a moment.

Scarlet brought back flowers as blue as the Isolten flag, and I placed them in the crown of a braid I’d woven in Aunt Jovana’s hair as she sat there laughing. After we’d filled up her hair, I put the flowers in Scarlet’s and my own, and then I set some aside for Mother.

If we were going to fight, then we needed something to fight for. For the freedom of choosing our own dinner or riding as far as we dreamed. For the hope of tomorrow or flowers in our hair. The grand and the small; it all mattered.

I noted Etan’s eyes weren’t on me anymore; they were on his mother. And he seemed to have a hint of a smile on his face as he watched her, his arms still crossed, head tilted to the side.

I pulled a flower from the pile I’d set aside and walked over to him. When I was halfway to him, he noticed me, and his demeanor changed in an instant. Hesitant, on guard. I reached up and wordlessly looped a flower through a buttonhole on his chest. He scowled at it and then me with those slate-colored eyes. But he didn’t rip it out, and he didn’t make a comment.

I tipped my head and went back to the ladies, happy to make my way through the garden and around the rest of the Northcotts’ lands.

I’d been standing in my nightgown with my door open for quite some time now. Isolte was cold at night, and I needed to start a fire. If the maids wouldn’t light one, fine; I knew how to do it myself. But I’d used all the wood I had, and I didn’t know where to get any more.