I could hear his lute as Wil and I hiked our way to their spot on the mountain. As we approached, a girl their age named Elana leaned forward and kissed Brahm. I couldn’t breathe. Wil and his friends giggled while calling me Schwesterchen. Little sister. Brahm spotted me, red in the face, right before I left.
“Why don’t you stop him?” Mitzi asks, pulling me back into the moment.
I glare at her but soften my face. “He’s not mine to stop,” I whisper, fanning my eyes, so I don’t cry.
“He could be.” Mitzi pats my shoulder. “You know, it’s you he was talking about earlier. It’s so obvious he loves you. Go tell him how you feel.”
“I wouldn’t even know what to say. I didn’t know I still felt this way about him.”
I glance at Brahm with my heart tumbling in my chest. He strums his lute as Willa whispers in his ear. Brahm’s eyes shoot to me. Snapping my head to Mitzi’s bloody leg, I squeeze my eyes shut. If they kiss or leave to do more, I’d rather not witness it. The enchanting music stops.
“You’re distracting me,” I whisper to Mitzi and wipe the tears from my cheek. “When we need to focus on the matter at hand!”
“What matter at hand?” Brahm plops down on the other side of Mitzi with his lute.
My mouth hangs open. He didn’t go?
Willa snatches the Schnapps from Gunther’s hands and chugs. She glares at Brahm before taking her blanket from her satchel and going to sleep.
“Mitzi’s leg. She won’t let me stitch it.”
“It’ll be fine,” she says.
“No, Gisela’s right, it’s too deep. You’ll need it stitched so we can be on the move tomorrow.”
“You didn’t go with Willa?” Mitzi asks.
“You’re deflecting.” I flash my eyes wide at her and add, “And, that’s really none of our business, is it?”
“Wait, wait, wait,” Brahm says. “Willa told you what she was doing?”
“Yes.” Mitzi giggles, but her ashen face looks anything but cheerful. “Why didn’t you go?”
Brahm hangs his head, but it doesn’t hide his rosy cheeks. “Uh, I guess I want to be in love with the person I do that with.”
“I agree. I was looking forward to my wedding night with Otto. I…I love him.” A sheen of sweat glistens on Mitzi’s forehead.
“Well, isn’t this all lovey-dovey and mushy? You’re not fooling me, Mitzi. We have a wound to stitch up, or you won’t make it if the fog chases us into a trap tomorrow. Luckily, I have an idea,” I say and lean toward the other side of the fire. She can’t possibly be asleep yet. “Willa? Did the apple make you hallucinate?”
She huffs, throws her arms in the air, and sits up. “What?”
“Did the apple make you hallucinate?”
“No. What are you talking about? I was asleep.” She flops back down.
I open my satchel to retrieve the apple. I hold the shiny, red orb before Mitzi’s eyes. “Bite into this, and you’ll fall asleep. You won’t even know I’ve stitched your leg.”
Brahm’s eyes gleam as he nods. “That’s a really good idea. You kept that?”
“Thought it would come in handy.” I raise an eyebrow at Mitzi. “Now, take a bite. I’d like to get some sleep soon.”
“Alright.” Taking the apple, Mitzi sucks in a deep breath. She crunches into the fruit and immediately collapses. I swipe the apple from her hands and return it to my satchel.
Brahm stuffs Mitzi’s bag under her head as a makeshift pillow. Opening the wooden box, I study the needle and spool of black thread. A wave of nausea rushes from my head to my stomach, and I squeeze my eyes shut. Brahm touches my trembling hand, and I look into his warm eyes.
“Will you play that nameless song again?” I ask. “It was so beautiful. I think it will calm my nerves.”
The side of Brahm’s lip curls up. “Anything for you, Freckles.”
Brahm positions his lute and begins playing the soothing, delicate tune. It drowns out the misery we’re in, and I watch him strum for a moment before turning my attention to Mitzi.
“Here we go,” I whisper, holding up the shiny, silver needle.
I loop the black thread through the eye. Almost on its own accord, the needle pierces Mitzi’s smooth, brown skin. With swift, delicate stitches, I manage to close up the wound without feeling nauseous or lightheaded. I surprise even myself with how quickly I get to the last stitch and knot the black thread. I finish by wrapping a clean strip of blanket around her wound.
Brahm watches me as he plucks out the last of the notes. I use the extra thread to mend a few of the larger rips in Mitzi’s dress. I take what remains of Mitzi’s blanket and cover the petite, sleeping girl with it. Brahm sets the lute to the side and takes my hand, rubbing his thumb inside my palm.
“I’m so impressed.” He gestures to Mitzi’s leg. “You did a great job. Now it’s time to get some sleep.”
Grabbing my satchel, I find my own tree to lean against. I take off the floral crown and tuck it into my bag. Brahm sneaks to the other side of the fire and snatches the bottle of Schnapps from next to the unconscious Ferdinand. He leans against the tree next to mine. I giggle as he offers me a drink.
“I’m not a fan of Schnapps, but anything will do.” I take a swig, grimace, and hand it back.
Brahm points the bottle at me. “To you. If you hadn’t broken the spell of the magic mirrors or if we hadn’t worked together to save Mitzi, I’m afraid all of us would be dead.” He takes a long pull and scrunches his face as he swallows. “Yeah, this shit’s not for me either.”
Brahm sets the bottle down and brings his knees to his chest, shivering a little. I forgot he doesn’t have a blanket. His satchel had a net, and he asked the priestess for the lute.
That night of the bonfires, Brahm had chased after me, but I was too stubborn to listen. And I wouldn’t speak to him again until the next year when I was fifteen. It was a lonely year. I don’t want to be lonely anymore.
“We can share. If you want.” I hold up my blanket.
Brahm scans me with wide eyes and nods. I crawl between his legs and spread the blanket out as I lean against his chest.
“Good goddess,” he whispers.
“What? Am I hurting you?” I sit up and look back at him.
“No, no. That was a good good goddess. I just assumed you meant side-by-side.”
“Oh, I’ll mo—”
“Don’t.” His arms wrap around me, one hand on my waist and one on my chest above my breasts but barely. “This is perfect,” Brahm whispers in my ear.
My heart races against Brahm’s palm. Flowing from his breath as it tickles my neck, a primal warmth courses through me. I close my eyes as goosebumps tingle over my entire body.
Brahm guides me to lean against his chest more heavily, keeping his arms wrapped around me. I curl up and snuggle into him. The primal need fades but doesn’t entirely disappear. It settles in my heart as returning feelings for Brahm.
“Gisela?”
“Yes?”
“That song tonight…I wrote it years ago. And I lied to Gunther earlier; it does have a name.” Brahm clears his throat. “It’s called Freckles.”