Mourn 43

Chapter 43 Hidden Blades 

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+8 Pearls 

Though still ghastly pale, Alexander’s voice never wavered. “I chose to enter the tournament. Whatever happens is on me and has nothing to do with Sadie.” 

Sadie watched him, emotions knotting too tightly to name. 

No wonder he hesitated when I mentioned the tournament. He has known from the start that someone was scheming against the Gates Estate, yet he entered anyway for me. 

Zephyr’s answer was ice cold. “You could never pay that price.” 

The blade slid two more inches, gleaming like a sliver of winter ice. 

The usually reckless youth straightened, seriousness softening his boyish face. “Zephyr, you cannot shield me forever.” 

“I can.” Zephyr answered like an iron oath. 

Alexander shook his head. “Even if you can, I refuse to live my whole life behind your guard.” 

Leaning on his cane, Alexander hobbled to Sadie’s side. 

The silver butterfly hairpin he had given her quivered in the spring night breeze, fragile and soft. The sight stirred a fierce urge in him to shelter both hairpin and girl within his hands. 

He ruffled Sadie’s hair with boyish indulgence, then turned to Zephyr with rare gravity. 

“I have lived under your shield, free to do anything I want. But that ends here. I have someone to guard now -Sadie–and I will keep her safe the way you always kept me.” The last trace of adolescence slipped from his face; even his not–yet–broad shoulders seemed suddenly strong enough to bear a man’s burden. 

“She is not worth your protection,” Zephyr said, his voice colder than drawn steel. 

Alexander’s brows lifted in defiance. “My judgment is enough.” He pinched Sadie’s cheek, smiling. “She is the only sister I have. If I don’t cradle her like a treasure, what else am I meant to do?” 

Sadie’s eyes went scarlet. She tried to dig her nails into her palm and hold back the tears, yet silver drops still slipped free. Pressing her face against Alexander’s chest, she sobbed. “I’m sorry… I used you to strike at Neville. I shouldn’t have.” 

“I did it willingly.” Alexander laughed, wiping her cheeks with a handkerchief. “I’ve never liked him. I would have beaten him at the contest even without your plea. Don’t cry again, little girl.” He glanced at Zephyr. “Zephyr, stop needling her. She is hopeless to console.” 

Zephyr watched them in silence. The faint scent of blossoms drifted through the courtyard, cloying and sweet. He despised the scent, sheathed his sword, and strode away without another word. 

Meanwhile, at the Francis Estate. 

Neville sat beneath the veranda, restless fingers twisting the sash at his waist. Daisy had refused to bind his wounds–fainting at the sight of blood was hardly her fault–yet disquiet gnawed at him. Whenever he pictured Sadie crying in Alexander’s arms, a swarm of ants seemed to chew through his heart. Again and again, he glanced toward the gate, half–expecting her to appear. 

He had bled so much today that he was sure she would hurry home, brew one of her comforting chicken 

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Chapter 43 Hidden Blades 

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broths, and fuss until dawn. She had always been like that. Perhaps, he told himself, the rules at the Gates Estate were strict, and she simply couldn’t slip away. 

Lost in such thoughts, he barely noticed Oliver’s approach until the latter spoke. “Neville, have you realized Sadie seems like an entirely different girl?” Earlier on the training ground, the sight of her weeping for Alexander had shaken Oliver as well. He had once believed she clung to the young lord merely to spark their jealousy, the way she teased them whenever Daisy pouted. Only today had he grasped the truth. Her attachment to Alexander ran deep. 

“What are you saying?” Neville asked, startled. 

“Perhaps,” Oliver said quietly, “she thinks we haven’t treated her well enough. Maybe that is why she is pulling away.” 

Neville shook his head, refusing the notion. “She depends on us–values us more than her own life. She would never abandon us. I’m going to ask her myself.” 

Oliver caught his arm. “Don’t. We caused the problem; we must deal with it. If we show her even a little more kindness, she will turn back to us and once again do anything we ask.” – 

Neville sniffed, indignant. “So you want us to bow our heads and soothe her? Absolutely not. Pampering her will only feed her arrogance. What if she starts expecting it? I have no intention of coddling her for life!” 

Oliver gave a leisurely shrug and let a small smile slip. “Pretend you are placating a puppy, then. Flora Park is putting on its Fish Lantern Night Parade the day after tomorrow. She has begged us to go every single year. Let’s indulge her once. After she tastes a bit of kindness, she will come to her senses and turn back into the obedient Sadie we remember.” 

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