Chapter 4

A day later, Michael brought me a slice of blackberry pie. My favorite. He used to make it for me, an old peace offering whenever we had a small disagreement.

"I made this for you, Ellie," he said, his smile hopeful.

I looked at the pie, then at him. I felt nothing. Unmoved.

He then insisted I accompany him to a Conclave social at The Oakhaven Inn, a large, bustling place. "It will do you good to get out," he urged.

At the inn, an older woman, someone whose child I had once secretly healed with a touch of my Radiance, saw me. Her eyes widened.

"It's you," she whispered, her voice full of awe. "A Blessed One walks among us." She bowed her head slightly.

Michael' s friends, standing nearby, heard her. They snickered.

"Blessed One?" one of them sneered, looking me up and down. I wore a simple, homespun dress. "Wearing plain clothes doesn't make you holy, sweetheart."

They laughed. Michael said nothing. He just looked uncomfortable, shifting his weight.

Later, when we were alone for a moment, he said, "I try to keep you away from them sometimes, Ellie. To protect your feelings. They can be... coarse."

Not because he was ashamed of me, he implied. Another lie.

I looked him directly in the eyes. "Michael, will you ever marry me?"

His gaze faltered. He became evasive. "Ellie, you know I love you. But things are... complex right now. There are pressures, Conclave matters you wouldn't understand."

Complexities. Pressures.

I remembered then, a chilling clarity. A few weeks ago, I had gone into his private study looking for a book. On his desk, lay the Covenant Stone, a sacred artifact where Hearthguard members magically inscribed pledges and unions. His name was there, intertwined with Victoria Ashworth' s in glowing script. My name, which had once been linked with his in a simple, heartfelt promise we' d made years ago, was gone. Magically erased. As if I, and our shared past, had never existed.

His evasions now were not just about delaying marriage; they were about a future already stolen.