After that, I broke away from Fade, reluctantly, for a bath. Then Momma Oaks did my hair. For the first time in longer than I could recall, I put on a dress, not because someone was making me, but because I wanted to look pretty, as much as I could, anyway. Life in the field had pared me down, so I didn’t look womanly or even strong but Fade lit up when he saw me.

I hope he never stops looking at me that way.

Whether I wanted one or not, they threw me a party. It was a wild night with piping, drums, and dancing. I sat out because Fade wasn’t up to such acrobatics. The worst thing about this town was the lack of privacy. Late that evening, we crept away and couldn’t find a quiet corner to save our souls. The empty houses had been filled with men who had come from other towns and traveled to Soldier’s Pond with the survivors from Company D. All told, it was probably a good thing, as I hadn’t spoken with Momma Oaks yet about certain private matters. So we came back to the party and nestled close, content just being together.

The days soon fell into a routine with Fade recovering, Gavin and Rex working with Edmund at the workshop, and Momma Oaks keeping busy as best she could. But she wasn’t happy in Soldier’s Pond; and it was time for me to offer a gift in return for those she’d given me.

So two weeks after I arrived, I sat down with her for breakfast. It was late morning—she’d let me sleep in—so there were few people around. The movements outside were so familiar, men running in formation and soldiers sparring. For some people, this probably felt like home, but to me, it was only a place that sheltered us for a while.

First, however …

“I was wondering if you’d tell me the best way to keep from making any brats?”

She startled me by providing the information in detail. By the time she finished, I was bright red, but considerably enlightened. Her eyes twinkled at my expression. This woman never stopped delighting me, so I kissed her cheek and thanked her.

“I don’t want to stay here,” I added quietly.

Her chin lifted in surprise, and I suspected she was braced for me to name some other crazy job that needed doing, which would end with me tired and hurt and her with more gray hair from sitting at home, worried. “Where are you going?”

There were never any complaints from her, no arguments or attempts to change my mind. I teased her a little, though. “A town called Rosemere.”

“Tell me about it?”

So I did. With eloquence I seldom owned, I described the village in detail. Her face softened as she listened and a smile formed. Momma Oaks covered me in questions about the people, the customs, the boats, and the market. She seemed half in love with the place before I concluded my account, and she didn’t even know what I had in mind.

“But I’m not the only one moving,” I said at last. “You and Edmund should pack your things. Soldier’s Pond is a worthy place, but it’s not for us.”

“Will they let us in? Is there enough space?”

She was still thinking like a refugee, like someone who had lived her whole life bound by Salvation’s restrictions. I put my hand over hers. “Momma, there are no walls. Evergreen Isle is huge, and the village has lots of room for new houses. You’ll love it. Trust me.”

“I do,” she said with teary eyes. “I’m sure it’s everything you say.”

“I don’t plan to winter here. If we hurry, we can get there before the first snow. And we might be able to build before the ground freezes.”

With those words it was like I lit a fire under her. “You’d be surprised how fast I can pack when I’m driven.”

“Nothing good about you would surprise me at all,” I whispered, but she was already out the door, ready to uproot their lives on my word.

I don’t deserve to be this lucky.

Fade met me outside the bunkhouse. “I hear we’re moving to Rosemere.”

“Is that all right?”

“It’s a little late to be asking my thoughts, isn’t it?” In the morning light, I couldn’t read his expression. Sometimes I worried that things were different between us, but I hoped it was because we slept in a room with my parents, not because he was mad that I’d left him to heal up alone while I did my duty to the families of the fallen.

“We were so happy there,” I whispered.

Then he smiled, assuaging my anxiety. “I can’t conceive of anything I’d like more. I loved everything about it.”

“Tegan’s still there with Morrow. Maybe she’ll stay.” That would please me mightily, as I’d have all my friends and loved ones close by.

“I hope so,” Fade said.

It occurred to me then that he might be wondering, but feeling too shy to ask. So I whispered, “I’m not breeding, by the way.”

Fade hunched his shoulders. “I think Edmund knows. He keeps staring at me.”

“That only works if you have a guilty conscience, son.” My father’s comment made both of us jump. He stood on the path with his arms folded, tapping one foot. “I thought you said your intentions were honorable.”

I might die of this, not in battle.

“They are,” Fade said quietly.

“Then it’s time to make good on those promises, if you mean to build a life together.”

“What are you talking about?” I demanded.

But Edmund was already calling for Momma Oaks. “You need two witnesses.”

I stared at Fade, wondering what was going on. My mother came out with a bolt of fabric in her hands, looking annoyed at the interruption. “What’s all the bother?”

Edmund studied me with sweetness in his eyes. So whatever he was about, he didn’t have bad intentions. “Fade, do you promise to be hers, always?”

“I do,” he answered.

“And, Deuce, do you swear to be his, forever?”

“Yes,” I said, annoyed. “He’s already mine, and I’m already his.”

Edmund muttered, “Thought so. That’s why you needed to make it official.”

“You have no sense,” Momma Oaks chided him.

Fade and I traded bewildered looks and I asked, “What just happened?”

“You didn’t tell them they were plighting their troth?” my mother demanded.

“They knew.” Edmund showed no remorse.

“A wedding should have more ceremony. She should be wearing her best dress, and there should be food and guests, music, a cake—”

“Did you want any of that?” my father asked.

I shook my head. I’d only ever wanted Fade, and from what I could tell, this didn’t change anything. I’d already promised him forever, just not in front of witnesses, which seemed to be the crucial part. So if Edmund wanted me to tell everyone in Soldier’s Pond, I would.

Fade was mine, and I was never letting him go. As I’d told him once, and as I’d proven time and again, I’d fight for him.

And I’d never stop.

Adieu

Two days later, Soldier’s Pond didn’t want us to leave.

In the end, I talked Colonel Park into it by promising to send letters with the traders when they came to Rosemere. She clutched my hands, more personal than she’d ever been with me. “You’ll advise me if I need it? You’ve dealt more with the Uroch than anyone. I’m worried about offending them.”

“Treat them like people,” I said. “You can’t go wrong like that. But, yes, I’ll help if you need me to.”

I hoped there would be no pleas, no emergencies. The world should sort out its own business, so far as I was concerned. I saluted her and left HQ for the last time to join my family at the gate. The guards had loaded a wagon for us, full of fabrics Momma Oaks had begged or borrowed, Edmund’s supplies, and the few personal effects the rest of us had accrued. Rex snapped the lines and the mules trotted forward. Spence was a reluctant companion on this journey, but we agreed he couldn’t be left on his own. Fade sat in the back with Momma Oaks while Edmund perched up front beside his son. Gavin and I walked alongside because I had rested long enough, and I’d traveled by wagon often enough to be sure I didn’t want to do it more than necessary.

As we drove away, the sentries shouted, “Huntress,” like I wasn’t tired of hearing it.

Rex cast a look over his shoulder. “Doesn’t that get wearisome?”

“You have no idea,” I muttered.

We took the journey in easy stages, and it was nice to journey with my family. Now and then we passed other travelers—and not just traders making supply runs as it had been in the days before the victory at the river. Some were human, some Uroch, and occasionally we spotted small groups of Gulgur, though they seemed shy and didn’t speak.

The days were chilly but not freezing, but the nights dropped down cold, and we huddled together under the wagon for warmth and comfort. Gavin acted a bit nervous at first, like he suspected this was all a trick, and when he got comfortable with the idea of being part of a family, we’d take it all away. But by the time we arrived at the big river, he was cuddling up to Momma Oaks. I knew exactly how he felt because I had walked in his shoes, wary and distrustful, unable to believe anybody could care about me without asking for something in return.

By then, the trees flamed with color on the Evergreen Isle. The name was deceptive, as only a portion of them had perpetually green needles while the rest turned crimson and gold, framing the village barely visible from this side. Rex paused on a rise, the mules shifting nervously in their traces. Edmund’s hand rested on his shoulder and Momma Oaks pushed to her feet to get a better look. She focused on row after row of grave markers in the field nearby. It hadn’t been long enough for grass to grow and it was too late in the year besides, so the graves contrasted sharply with the brown grass.

“So many dead,” she whispered. “It could’ve been any of you, all of you.”

Edmund shifted in his seat and dug for a smile. This was why I loved him; his steadiness kept her from sorrow. “But it wasn’t.”

As they spoke, Gavin nudged me, offering the tattered banner. “This is yours.”

But I had noticed how much he loved it. So I got out my knife and cut away the fabric Momma Oaks had used to sew my token in place. I reclaimed the card. “No, this is mine. The pennant’s yours. You guarded it well.”

Gavin ducked his head and curled up beside Momma Oaks. I could tell I’d pleased him.

“Let’s go,” Edmund said. “I’d like to see the place I’ll be calling home.”

The wagon trundled on, all the way to the water, where sailors worked the river. Rex whistled and I shouted until one of them saw us. He turned his craft, willing to help us cross. I cursed when he recognized me because his manner went from friendly to reverent.

“I can’t take everyone,” he apologized, looking stricken. “But I’ll send more boats to carry the rest, plus all your belongings.”

“You and Edmund go with him.” I hugged Momma Oaks, and she looked so excited as my father helped her into the boat.