A Captive of Wing and Feather A Retelling of Swan Lake - Melanie Cellier Page 0,2

back to your letters?” She sent a stern eye toward the abandoned slate on a small, child-sized table tucked into the corner of the room. I could just make out a single, misshaped S scratched across its surface.

“But—” Juniper began to protest, only to cut herself off when she saw her mother’s unyielding expression.

With a large, dramatic sigh, she hung her head and shuffled off toward the small table and chair. I bit my lip, trying to hold in a laugh.

Wren rolled her eyes. “Anyone would think I was the cruelest of mothers.”

Cora raised an eyebrow. “I can’t imagine where she gets the dramatics from.”

Wren laughed, her eyes lingering on her daughter, but gradually the humor dropped from her face. “She does seem like Audrey, doesn’t she?”

I abandoned my muffin to put a reassuring hand on her arm, despite the stab of pain in my midriff at the mention of Wren’s sister.

“She’ll be back, when she’s ready,” Cora said in a calm tone.

Audrey was sixteen—two years younger than me and seven years younger than Wren who often treated her like another daughter. She had told me once that older siblings couldn’t help taking on that role when they lost their parents too young.

I had refrained from observing that not all older siblings reacted in such a manner. For five years I had refused to mention my home, my family, or even my kingdom—it was habit now as much as intention.

Wren’s mothering had irritated Audrey at times, but I knew that underneath she loved it. And you only had to look at Juniper to see what a wonderful mother Wren made. But I knew she blamed herself for Audrey’s departure. They had fought the night before she left, and it ate her up inside that Audrey hadn’t been back even once for a visit in the six months since she went to work up at the local castle.

I was the only one who knew there was more to the story, but I didn’t dare tell Wren.

Cora met my eyes silently, and my hand dropped from Wren’s arm. I returned to my muffin, keeping my face hidden from my friend. Cora didn’t know the whole story either, but I knew she had at least some suspicions about the castle, and we had a tacit agreement not to mention anything about them to Wren. Wren thought Cora’s antipathy toward Lord Leander was solely because he didn’t send supplies to assist the residents of the haven as his father always used to do. Better that she believe her sister still angry with her than that she worry herself about something worse. Not when there was nothing she could do about it—except get into trouble herself.

Once I had finished Junie’s treat, I flapped my hands to capture both of the other women’s attention and re-signed my question to Cora. Wren looked between us with a raised eyebrow. She had learned some of my more common hand signals, but only Cora fully understood the makeshift communication system she and I had cobbled together.

“So you noticed the townsfolk are getting themselves all tied up in knots, I take it?” Cora’s voice held enough exasperation to allay the worst of my fears.

“It is concerning, though.” Wren kept her voice low, casting a warning glance toward Juniper who had abandoned her slate and was crouched down on the floor of the kitchen, closely examining a small bug. “Why is he here, of all places? And why is he trying to hide who he is?”

I gave them both a look of exasperation. They were as bad as Ash and his customers. I made an impatient gesture with my arms, and Wren gave me an apologetic look.

“Oh, sorry, Lady. It seems we have a newcomer in town. He checked into one of the inns, instead of going up to the Keep, but of course the innkeeper’s wife recognized him. Apparently the innkeeper questioned him about it but was entrusted to keep the secret.”

“Which naturally means the entire town now knows,” said Cora with a roll of her eyes.

I gave them both a look of frustrated confusion. The loss of my voice was most infuriating at times like this. Who had arrived in Brylee? And what was he trying to keep hidden?

“It turns out,” Wren said, realizing my exasperation, “that Brylee’s newest visitor is none other than—”

A loud rapping on the door made her break off. Startled, we all exchanged glances. No one ever bothered to knock at the haven’s door. It