Chapter 34: A Home at Last

The doors slid open and a shaft of moonlight illuminated the tacky floor. He saw her golden hair spilled out around her, her hand outstretched towards it. He collapsed near her and stroked her swollen face, being careful to not hurt her. Her breathing was shallow. His fingers trailed down her arms and ribs. Nothing felt out of place. She stirred and groaned.
“It’s okay. I’m here. You are safe now,” he whispered. He slipped his arm under her head to lift her so he could carry her back to their home, but her body wrenched away, and she lay on her side whimpering. The moon cast a bright white light that shone onto the carnage that was her back. Tears sprang to his eyes as he saw the damage that had been done to her. If he could kill the Baron again, he would. A hundred times over.
Mindful of her back, he gently lifted her and carried her into the forest. He had tied Huxley there after he followed her from the apothecary earlier. They left the town of Gilramore, Saffron cuddled close to his chest.
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Saffron’s eyes fluttered open. She saw distant stars shining through the treetops. Her body was jostling but something held her firm. It was him. She could smell him. She leaned towards his chest. “I love you, Elric,” she said and fell back asleep.
“I love you too,” he replied, but she was already back under.
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“Yes, those ones. They just need to be ground and mixed with the liquid in the white bottle,” Saffron instructed Elric as he mixed a poultice for her back. After he was done, he applied the stinging ointment to the gashes that marked her body. Saffron took a sharp intake of breath as it touched her tender skin. She knew she would forever be scarred. She had not been sad when Elric told her what he did to the Baron.
“We should head to Avolire,” Elric said as he wound the bandages around her torso. She watched his ministrations.
“Is it safe? We haven’t heard from Wulfstan,” Saffron replied, slipping her dress back over her head. Her cuts protested against the movement.
“I have a feeling that he will meet us there. For whatever reason, he did not come here. I believe he was probably being watched. After what happened in Gilramore, we should put some distance between us and your former home. This place has served us well, but we cannot stay here forever,” he said, brushing a few strands of her silken hair away from her face.
“If you think it is wise,” She agreed.
“I do. We should leave in the morning.” He said, his eyes serious.
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The sky was still dark as they left their cabin. Saffron looked at it wistfully. She would forever be grateful for their time spent there. She cuddled closer to Elric who slipped his arm around her, pulling her close. “It will take us two days, three at most if the weather turns,” he said and pressed a kiss on her temple.
Their journey was blessedly uneventful. Saffron marveled at the beautiful countryside. She had never traveled this far from Gilramore and so the sight of the towering mountains in the distance brought a strange ache to her heart. She felt as if she had always been meant to live here, in their shadows.
Tears ran freely from her eyes as the Avolire Estate came into view. It was a simple manor, grander than most, but not quite a castle. It was made of a cheerful light grey stone with two towers that rose from the front corners. From here, she could see the walled garden that Elric had spoken of. There was something about this simple place that felt like home.
They pulled to the front of the manor and a grizzled old man opened the door, watching them with an expressionless face as they clambered from the cart. “Æðelfrið!” Elric called and rushed to the man. His face broke out into a smile and embraced the prince, his hand pounding roughly on his back.
“It has been a too long,” Æðelfrið said, still smiling as he looked over at Saffron. “You must be Saffron. Wulfstan has told me about the help you lent the soldiers.” His accent was thick and warm. She flushed slightly.
“It wasn’t much,” she replied demurely.
“That is not what I heard. Come, Wulfstan is waiting for you inside,” he said and went into the house.
“I told you,” Elric whispered to her. She swatted him playfully and followed him into the manor.
Whereas the castle of Runswick was grand and opulent, the manor was open and friendly while also exuding an air of comfort. Everything was light; the walls were whitewashed, and the floor was made of a cheery light pine. On every available surface, there were roses. Saffron touched one delicate petal as they walked down the hall. This place felt safe. It felt happy.
The walls were lined with colorful art, no moody portraits of dead ancestors. They were taken into the drawing-room which had large windows that overlooked the garden. Saffron felt herself smiling as she stared out the window at the garden that stretched as far as she could see. A few stubborn winter roses clung to their trellis as the icy wind buffeted them.
Elric came to stand behind her, his arms around her waist. “What do you think?” He asked.
“I think it's home,” she replied, her heart full.