Chapter 2087: A Life by the Hearth (Part Four)

Jocelynn blinked, and Charlotte laughed at something Adala had said, and the moment passed. Saku and Olver knocked over a cup of water, and the whole end of the table dissolved into giggles and scolding. When Jocelynn looked again, Ollie had already risen to clear the platters... and the extra place setting was gone, like it had never been there to begin with.

It was nothing, she told herself. She was tired, and she’d imagined things. An extra place setting for Ashlynn, in case she managed to stop by. Surely that was it, but then, why had it vanished? Maybe it was just something she’d thought of doing and hadn’t done at all. It happened often enough these days, when she was tired and napped through the day...

The lanterns had been lit at dusk, when the shadows began to grow long, and by the time the guests began to drift away, the sun had slipped behind the western mountains. Most lingered, saying their goodbyes to Jocelynn at the table, then a second set of goodbyes to Ollie at the door.

Adala and Charlotte left first.

"Send word the moment anything happens," Charlotte said as she bent to wrap Jocelynn in a careful hug, mindful of her belly. "I mean it. The very moment. I’ll be here even if it’s the middle of the night."

"Especially if it’s the middle of the night," Adala said dryly, though her eyes were soft as she pressed a kiss to Jocelynn’s cheek. "Babies have no sense of decent hours. I’ll come too, and I’ll make sure Charlotte remembers her shoes."

"I would never forget my shoes!" Charlotte protested.

"You would," Adala said serenely, and tucked Charlotte’s arm through her own.

They walked arm in arm toward the stables, intending to ride back to Vale City before full dark, and Jocelynn watched from the window as their lantern bobbed down the lane in the fading light, growing smaller and smaller until the trees swallowed it whole.

The rest went in twos and threes, back down the lane to their own cottages and burrows, with sleeping children slung over shoulders and empty dishes tucked under arms. Old Nan patted Jocelynn’s cheek and told her to sleep while she still could.

"I know you’ll have plenty of minders and nannies, dear," Old Nan said before she left. "But don’t forget to ask for help when you need it. I’m not so old yet that I can’t take a turn or two with the little one to give you and your knight a night to yourselves," she said with a knowing wink before she slipped out the door.

Lilee and Jamys were the last to leave. Lilee kissed her son and kissed Jocelynn and kissed her belly, and then she bent low and whispered to it.

"Be good for your mother, little one," Lilee said. "And don’t keep her waiting too long. Your grandmother can hardly stand it."

"I’ll just have a quick look at the horses on the way out," Jamys said, glancing toward the stables.

"The horses went home with Charlotte and Adala, you old fool, and you tended Ollie’s gelding just this morning," Lilee teased, and Jocelynn had to cover her mouth to keep from laughing at the crestfallen look on his face.

Jamys finally coaxed her out the door with his cap in one hand and his wife’s hand in the other.

Milo stayed long enough to help Ollie and Dalwyn carry the last of the platters into the kitchen. He left with a wave and a cloth-wrapped bundle of leftover grouse tucked under one arm, whistling as he went down the lane.

Dalwyn came back out of the kitchen with a stack of clean plates in his arms, and he yawned so widely that Jocelynn heard his jaw crack.

"Bed, squire," Ollie said. "You’ve done more than enough for one day."

Dalwyn looked at the plates, then at Jocelynn, before he carefully tucked his right foot behind his left ankle and bowed with his right shoulder toward the floor without dropping a single one.

"Goodnight, my lady," he said proudly.

"Goodnight, Dalwyn," Jocelynn said, smiling broadly at the young squire. "Perfectly done," she praised, reminding herself that she should mention how helpful he had been at their home the next time she wrote to his parents in the Ride of Stormbrook. She was certain that Lord Gardener Cynwrig and Lady Cerys would be happy to hear how much their son’s help meant to Ollie’s family.

Dalwyn set the plates on the sideboard and clattered up the stairs to his room, and a door closed somewhere above.

And then the manor was finally quiet.

Ollie banked the fire, and Jocelynn sat in her chair with Zedya’s blankets folded in her lap while she listened to the crickets singing in the garden. The night air drifted in through the open window, cool and damp and sweet with honeysuckle. Down the lane, the lanterns in the cottage windows winked out one by one.

"Are you up to the stairs tonight?" Ollie asked, crouching beside her chair. "Or would you rather sleep down here by the hearth? I can bring the blankets down," he offered.

Jocelynn reached out and laced her fingers through his.

"I’d rather stay close to you," she said.

"That isn’t an answer to the question, you know," Ollie said with a slight smile on his lips. "If you’re not up to climbing the stairs, and you want me close, then I just need to pull up a chair next to you."

"Ollie!" Jocelynn said, swatting his arm playfully. "There’s no reason for you to have a poor night’s sleep in a chair just to sleep close to me!"

"No," he said, giving her hand a squeeze. "But I sleep better close to you than I do in a bed by myself," he said, as if every word were true.

Jocelynn laughed, and then sighed as she looked up at the dark stairwell, debating whether or not she could not only manage the climb tonight, but also come back down again in the morning. Her back ached and her ankles were sore, but...

"Upstairs," she said with a determined look in her seafoam eyes. "I want to sleep in our bed tonight."

"Upstairs it is," Ollie said as he leaned down and lightly kissed her lips, giving her the chastest of touches before he straightened up again. "Give me a moment to turn down the blankets and warm the sheets. Don’t you dare try to climb those stairs without me," he warned.

Jocelynn listened to his footsteps going up, and the creak of the floorboards overhead, and the soft, familiar sound of him humming to himself as he worked. The fire popped. The baby stirred in her belly, slow and sleepy now, and doubtless happy with the meal they’d shared.

Jocelynn rested both hands on her belly and closed her eyes, feeling as though she had never been so warm and content in all her life.

Outside, the crickets fell silent. Not all at once, but one by one, the way they did when someone walked through the garden in the dark. Upstairs, Ollie’s humming had stopped.

Then the fire guttered.

A cold, still presence settled into the chair across from her, the one where Old Nan had sat most of the evening. Jocelynn didn’t have to open her eyes to know what it was. She could smell it. Green wood and rain, and something old and patient beneath them both.

"What a lovely life," the Olive Seed said softly.

Its empty eyes drifted from the hearth to the long table, to the stairs, and back to the woman in the chair.

"Tell me, Jocelynn," the Olive Seed said. "Do you truly believe that a woman like you deserves a life like this?"