Chapter 52: Friendship

Ysabella POV

The basket was heavy on her arm, filled with honey cakes and butter biscuits and a small jar of berry preserves she had made last autumn. Ysabella had woken early to pack it, moving quietly through the kitchen while Emrich still slept and Aileen dreamed in her bed.

She had told her husband she was taking their daughter to visit a friend in the village. He had not asked questions. He never did.

Now she walked down the snow packed path toward the cottage at the edge of the pack territory, Aileen's hand clasped tightly in hers. The morning was cold but bright, the sun reflecting off the white fields, making everything glitter. Aileen hopped from footprint to footprint, her breath fogging in the air, her small nose pink from the chill.

"Mama, where are we going?" she asked for the fifth time.

"To see a friend," Ysabella said again.

"Is it the healer?"

"No, little star. A different friend. Someone I knew a long time ago."

Aileen considered this, her brow furrowed in concentration. "Will she have cookies?"

Ysabella laughed. "I brought cookies. So yes, she will have cookies."

Aileen nodded, satisfied, and returned to her hopping.

The cottage appeared through the trees, smoke curling from its chimney, frost sparkling on its thatched roof. Ysabella's heart beat faster as she approached.

She had been here before, the night of the storm, but that visit had been shadowed by fear and urgency. This time was different. This time she came bearing gifts and joy and the simple pleasure of friendship.

She knocked on the wooden door.

Nessa answered, her grey eyes warm with recognition. She stepped aside without a word, and Ysabella led Aileen into the warmth of the cottage.

The fire crackled in the hearth. The smell of bread baking filled the air. And there, seated on the floor with a wooden wolf in her hands, was Tori.

She looked up and smiled, and Ysabella's heart clenched with love.

"You came," Tori said, rising to her feet.

"I brought company." Ysabella gently nudged Aileen forward. "This is my daughter, Aileen. Aileen, this is Tori. An old friend."

Aileen peered up at Tori with large, curious eyes. "Do you have toys?"

Tori laughed, the sound bright and familiar. "I have a son about your age. His name is Isaac. He has many toys."

"Can I see them?"

"Of course you can."

Tori led Aileen toward the back room, where Isaac was playing with his wooden animals. Ysabella followed, her basket of treats still on her arm.

The children met in the middle of the room.

Isaac looked up from his blocks, his golden eyes wide. He was smaller than Aileen, with dark curls and a solemn expression. He clutched his wooden wolf to his chest, watching the stranger with cautious curiosity.

Aileen planted her hands on her hips. "I am Aileen. This is my mama. What is your name?"

"Isaac."

"That is a good name. Do you want to see what is in the basket?"

Isaac looked at his mother, who nodded. He stepped forward, and Aileen took his hand with the confidence of a girl who had never met a stranger.

"Come on," she said, pulling him toward the hearth. "My mama made cookies."

They sat on the rug together, the basket between them, and soon the cottage was filled with the sound of children's laughter.

Ysabella sank onto the sofa beside Tori, her body relaxing for the first time in days.

"Thank you for this," Tori said softly, watching the children play. "Isaac does not have many friends. It is not safe for him to play outside."

"Then we will come more often." Ysabella took Tori's hand and squeezed it. "Aileen needs friends too. The castle is full of adults and guards and servants. There are no children her age."

Tori leaned her head on Ysabella's shoulder. "It is good to see you like this. Happy. At peace."

"I am happy. Most of the time." Ysabella hesitated. "But I worry about her. About Hecate. About what will happen when the truth comes out."

Tori was quiet for a moment. "She is stronger than she looks."

"I know. But even the strongest can break."

They sat in silence, watching the children play. Isaac had built a tower of blocks, and Aileen was cheering him on, her small hands clapping together. The wooden wolf sat between them, watching over their game like a silent guardian.

Ysabella told Tori everything. About Odette's accusations, about the stolen glances between Maddox and Hecate, about the dinner at her home and the way the king had looked at her friend. She spoke softly, so the children would not hear, but she held nothing back.

Tori listened without interrupting, her expression grave.

"He is falling in love with her," Tori said when Ysabella finished. "With Hecate. Not knowing she is Samantha."

"Yes. And she is falling in love with him again. Despite everything."

Tori sighed. "I was afraid of this. When she decided to go back, I knew it would be hard. But I did not expect..."

"What?"

"I did not expect the bond to pull them together so quickly. So completely." Tori looked toward Isaac, at his golden eyes, so like his father's. "She cannot stay away from him. And he cannot stay away from her. But the longer this goes on, the more it will hurt when the truth comes out."

Ysabella nodded. "I know. But what can we do? We cannot tell him for her. That is her choice to make."

"We can support her. Whatever she decides."

They were interrupted by Aileen, who had abandoned the blocks and was now examining a jar of dried herbs on a low shelf.

"Mama, what are these?"

"Medicine," Ysabella said. "Do not touch."

"But they smell pretty."

Isaac toddled over and tugged on his mother's sleeve. "Can Aileen stay for lunch?"

Tori looked at Ysabella, who nodded.

"Of course she can," Tori said. "We have bread and cheese and soup. And more cookies."

The children cheered.

They ate together at the small wooden table, the four of them crowded around with barely enough room for their plates. Isaac showed Aileen how to dip her bread in the soup without making a mess. Aileen showed Isaac how to make faces in the bottom of her cup.

Tori and Ysabella watched them, their hearts full.

"He looks so much like his father," Ysabella said quietly.

Tori nodded. "But he has her spirit. Stubborn. Brave. Kind."

"The king would love him if he knew."

"The king cannot know. Not yet." Tori's voice was firm. "Samantha is not ready. And until she is, Isaac stays hidden."

Ysabella reached across the table and took her friend's hand. "He will not hear the truth from me. I swear it."

Tori's eyes glistened. "I know."

After lunch, the children played until their energy faded. Aileen curled up on the rug with her head on a cushion, her eyes drooping. Isaac nestled beside her, his wooden wolf tucked under his arm.

Ysabella gathered her things, reluctant to leave.

"Come again soon," Tori said, walking her to the door.

"I will. With more cookies."

"Isaac will hold you to that."

Ysabella looked back at the children, sleeping side by side on the rug. They looked so peaceful, so innocent, untouched by the secrets and dangers that lurked beyond the cottage walls.

"Maybe one day," Ysabella said softly, "they can play without hiding."

Tori followed her gaze. "Maybe one day."

Ysabella lifted Aileen into her arms and carried her to the carriage. The child stirred but did not wake, her small face pressed against her mother's shoulder.

"Thank you," Ysabella said. "For today. For trusting me."

Tori kissed her cheek. "Thank you for coming. For not forgetting us."

The carriage rolled away, and Ysabella watched the cottage disappear through the window. Aileen slept on, dreaming of wolves and cookies and new friends.