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Spies

Eventually morning came and Sebastian felt the bed dip as Elsabet rose.

She was pulling on her gown and doing the fastens down the front.

“Where are you going?”

She glanced over her shoulder. Dark lashes fluttering over her nearly purple eyes. “I’m heading out to tend what’s left of the garden. The frost has been hard on it.”

Sebastian knew she’d planted one in early spring, he’d seen her doing it, but he kept forgetting to peek at it when he came back from his errands and now snowfall had been coming and going for many months. Likely all that was left in her garden was a few berry bushes.

“You could lay back down.” He patted the bedding next to him.

“That would be unlikely.”

“Why?”

“Alazareth slid a missive under the door at first light.”

“I didn’t hear it.” He sat up.

She handed him the bit of parchment. “You were in that…trance.”

I was Chavias. He mentally corrected. Feeling his stoma

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