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was a man forming from objects of nature, and they all were warned of the fifth season, the season of solitude. Other than that, no, there is no proof. But that is where faith falls into place. If we had proof of everything, then there would be no such thing as faith or hope or dreams. Or theory, if you’re of the scientific mind.”

“The season of solitude? I’ve never heard of that before.”

“Not many have. It’s something the Advocates choose not to preach because it’s the last season, meaning there will be no others. It is the end of our time.”

“I suppose that makes sense. Though, it’s difficult for me to follow suit to something simply because others believe. Maybe I need to come to these lavish parties more often.”

Arden smiles and pats me on the back. “Yes, maybe you do. We thoroughly enjoy your company.” He knows all too well I’m not a devout follower by now but that I do have a genuine curiosity.

“And I thoroughly enjoy the bread pudding.” I make a break for the buffet to claim the remnants.

A man and a woman were holding hands today. With the amount of greed and hate in the world, I thought maybe family was a thing of the past. I know relationships are nonexistent in my life. It is a good sign. It means not everyone around me is passionless.

17 Stone

K nock, Knock.

“It’s early. Maybe she’s a late riser,” I say to Goose. “Not everyone rises with the birds, you know. Let’s give her a moment.”

“Yeah, she’s getting dolled up for me, no doubt. Let’s not rush her.” Goose smirks and waits patiently, staring at the closed door. “Do you think she’ll notice my new tunic?” He straightens the hem of the dark-green fabric. “I’m thinking I should’ve spent another copper for a second pair of boots. Never know when we’ll get another opportunity. You too. You should’ve bartered for a second pair.”

I wonder if he’s aware of his arrogant nature. He’s an attractive guy but average at best. I don’t quite understand where his confidence stems. No disfigurations, a little taller than average, dark, fine hair that he combs to his right with it shaved below the brow on all sides, creating a hard part. And a strong build, I suppose. His competency is below average, even if he boasts a big game. I just don’t understand.

“Goose, we spent a few silvers as it is. That gold rib is nearly half spent. We never know when we’ll see another in our lifetime. I think one pair of boots is plenty. And when Jay is good and well, we’ll need to freshen her wardrobe too.” I tap my foot on the stoop. “What is taking so long? I’d like to see my sister. If there’s no response, then we force our way in. Jay shouldn’t be left unattended, and Astor’s intelligent enough to know that. I highly doubt she’s out for a morning stroll, and it’s too early for errands.”

“Could’ve at least gotten us some stockings.” He gives me a sidelong glance without turning his head from the door. “These boots are already beginning to chafe.”

I shake my head, ignoring his comment otherwise. Then I rap on the door, a bit harder this time, and wait. Nothing.

“Do you know how to pick a lock?” I ask Goose.

“In this region? Yes.” Goose turns the handle and pushes. The door creaks as he slowly nudges it open. Goose winks with a grin. “That’s why they call me Goose the Great! Country folk are the most trustworthy sort. Give you access to everything, but ain’t afraid to take it back neither.”

“They’re fishermen, not country folk. It could be booby trapped with hooks and nets. And nobody calls you that.” I let Goose enter first.

Quietly enough, so as not to wake their slumber, we enter the common room where Jaymes’s cot is. My heart skips a beat. Neither one of them is here. I shake my head to level out my exaggerated thoughts, knowing it could be as simple as nature’s calling, or maybe Astor moved her into the sleeping quarters. No need to speculate. Calm down.

I start toward the sleeping quarters. Goose pokes around the common space. I don’t know what he’s doing, but it doesn’t appear productive—opening cabinets, fiddling with clutter. I roll my eyes at him.

“Astor?” I say in a loud whisper. “Astor? You here?”

I’m not well versed in the etiquette of invading homes, but I know it’s not polite to force your way into a woman’s sleeping quarters uninvited. I repeat myself, louder this time. Nothing. I hesitate to go farther. I don’t want to overstep my boundaries. She’s already informed us of her sensitivity to our insolence, and I can’t risk losing her help. Despite my predispositions, I poke my head around the corner of the open doorway. I feel relieved. There are two lumps hidden beneath the bed linens.

“Goose?” What is he doing out there? “Goose!”

“Yeah? What?” He turns around with a bottle in his hand.

My face tightens as I lower my brow. “What is that?”

“Fragrance. Her scent, you know.” He sets it down and walks to my side. “Just thought I’d get a whiff. It’s sweet. Honey, and something flowery.”

“You’re an idiot. They’re both asleep back here.”

“What?” Goose’s eyes widen, then he shakes his head. “No. That’s asinine. Jay wouldn’t sleep in the same bed as that woman. Unless…” His jaw slackens. “…the two of them were seeking forbidden pleasures.” A smile stretches across his face.

I throw a fist at his shoulder. It doesn’t faze him, which aggravates me even more. “That’s my sister, you jackass! How does your mind go directly to that scenario anyways?” I ask.

“I’m a man. Of nineteen seasons. And I’ve been living in the wood for the better

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