The water gave a brief respite. Nothing had made me long for home until then, and even so, it was but a tiny nudge for that familiar, magical comfort. For the glass river that stretched for miles beneath the base of the mountains, winding through the woods to meet with the sea.

The river before us was a royal blue. Sunlight bounced off its gently lapping surface in sparks.

Younglings sat upon one of the small wharfs, attempting to fish. I smiled, slowing where the cobblestone gave way to grass and ferns. “Are they using apricots?”

Scythe, already finished eating, licked more remnants from his fingers as he squinted toward the younglings. He huffed while I struggled to breathe momentarily. “Last time I saw them, it was sugar cubes.”

“Someone is having too much fun,” I said with a husked laugh. “Feeding them false information.”

“You want a babe?”

The question was so abrupt that I stopped moving altogether.

Scythe stopped too, his eye narrowed and assessing, as though worried he’d spoken out of turn.

The clawing need that had grown near painful slipped away and left me chilled to the bone. Though maybe, I’d just done too thorough a job of trying to ignore the different longing I could never quite shake. “I do,” I confessed, all humor gone. “Though I don’t know if that’s what the stars have in store for me.”

We both knew my words hinted at trying—at failing—to conceive but he thankfully let it be with a low clearing of his throat. “It’s not solely the stars who decide what you will have, Aster.”

Wet filmed my vision, but he took my hand as if it had always been his to take, and we continued on toward a smattering of trees at the end of the river-lined street. More woods and more dense than the forest housing the cottage above the city. The trees stretched as far as I could see, clogging the outside of this city like ancient sentinels.

We didn’t enter them. Scythe took a left, then waited patiently while I sniffed and studied the flowers at a cart on the street corner. The vendor smiled as I yammered on about their rare coloring, but she stiffened when Scythe’s form darkened the stall behind me.

“Those fawny brown ones,” he said and dumped some coins onto the window’s counter.

The female gathered the flowers and tied them with twine before handing them over with a shake to her hand. I grinned, bringing them to my nose and inhaling. “I’ve never seen violas this color before.”

“Similar to your hair,” Scythe muttered so quickly that I nearly missed it.

With my fingers stroking the petals, I tried to make my heart settle as we skirted a carriage and entered another alleyway, heading toward the city’s center.

“Still want something sweet?”