The General Who Took My Lantern and Broke My Heart Chapter 15

The General Who Took My Lantern and Broke My Heart Chapter 15

For a moment, Aveline could only stand there in silence.

Then she turned back to Rafferty.

He stood by the counter without rushing her, waiting as if her answer was the only one that mattered. His smile was open and clean, with no flirtation in it, no hidden test.

Aveline lowered her eyes.

Then she looked up again.

“All right.”

They went north together, and Rafferty kept his word.

He introduced her to purchasing managers for several old Vesper City families and helped her get a meeting with the statehouse purchasing office. Rook & Ember grew from a small coastal shop into a name people recognized across three blocks of the city.

One botanical blend Aveline developed was clean, lasting, and delicate enough to be selected for the statehouse supplier list.

Aveline was no longer a woman who needed someone else to survive.

She had her own brand, her own staff, her own bookkeeper. Every month, she sent bank drafts and letters to her parents and to Tamsin.

Two months later, a courier brought back a reply.

Her father said everything at home was fine. Her mother told her to take care of herself, then mentioned that the Caulfield girl had been turned over to the sheriff by Bram himself.

Aveline finished reading the letter without feeling much at all.

She had once thought those memories would stay in her like a thorn buried under the skin, catching every time she moved.

But at some point, Bram’s face had become something she had to force herself to remember.

Life went on. Little by little, seeing Rafferty became part of it.

Every few days, he came by the shop. Sometimes he brought a tin of new tea. Sometimes he brought a book he thought she might like. They talked about business, about Vesper City, about the strange rules old families lived by, and sometimes about what they had been reading.

He never pushed past what she was willing to give, and she never pretended to offer more than she could.

For now, that was enough.

Aveline liked that.

For the first time in a long time, she felt herself becoming a person again.

One afternoon, Rafferty invited her to a small reception at a private conservatory on the south side of the city. A few writers, collectors, and old-family patrons would be there for the winter exhibition, and he asked if she cared to come.

Aveline said yes.

They had just reached the garden gate when she saw a familiar figure standing near the entrance.

Thorne.

He stood near the glasshouse, as still and severe as she remembered.

Then he saw her.

His face tightened, and for one brief moment, the distance in his eyes broke.

Aveline did not stop walking. Her face stayed calm.

Rafferty glanced at Thorne, then at her. He asked nothing. He only stepped forward, placing himself neatly between them.

Thorne’s gaze settled on Rafferty, then shifted past him to Aveline.

“Aveline.” His voice was rough. “I need to talk to you. Can we… just talk?”

Aveline did not answer right away.

She looked at Rafferty.

Rafferty paused, clearly reluctant, but he still moved to a nearby tree and turned his back with practiced manners.

Aveline looked back at Thorne.

“What do you want to say?”

Thorne opened his mouth. For a moment, it seemed too many words were trapped in his throat.

He started with Cressida.

Aveline listened without speaking.

When he finally finished, he lifted his eyes. They were hollow with regret.

“Aveline,” he said, his voice dry, “I regret it.”