Dominic stepped out from the shadows, his voice a sharp command. "Caleb! Stop groveling to her. Get back to the barracks!"

But Caleb was too far gone in his desperation for comfort to listen. He ignored his brother and hissed under his breath, "Dominic, think about it! If we live here, we can have our own kitchen. We can eat whatever we want, whenever we want."

Thanks to the Spirit Spring, Evelyn’s senses were now as sharp as a hawk's. She heard every word of their whispered conspiracy. So, she thought, a cold smile touching her lips, Caleb doesn't just want to steal my roof; he wants to move his accomplice in, too. They really do think I’m already in the grave.

She reached out, grabbed a piece of firewood from the pile, and hurled it. It caught Caleb squarely on the shoulder.

"Dammit, Evelyn!" he shrieked, clutching his arm. "What was that for?"

"Isn't it obvious?" Evelyn replied coolly. "I’m telling you to get lost."

Caleb’s jaw set with a stubborn, youthful arrogance. "You gave me a choice, didn't you? Well, I haven't made my decision yet!"

Evelyn opened her mouth to snap back, but her eyes suddenly narrowed. In the distance, a small group was approaching along the muddy path. At the head of the party, being led by a village guide, was a woman who could only be Serafina.

Evelyn leaned back against the doorframe, a predatory glint in her eyes. "Fine then. How will you choose? You’re obsessed with Serafina—are you really prepared to cut her out of your life?"

Dominic, who harbored his own secret flame for the girl, felt a prickle of annoyance. Caleb is just a boy, he told himself. He doesn't know what love is. He just admires her like a sister.

Caleb’s mind raced. Serafina was hundreds of miles away in the city; she’d never know what he said here. If a few lies bought him a warm bed and a private room, so be it.

"She ruined your wedding, Evelyn," Caleb said, his voice dripping with feigned indignation. "How could I still like her after what she did to you?"

Evelyn tilted her head. "Talk is cheap. If you want me to believe you, say something bad about her. Make me smile, Caleb, and maybe I’ll consider your offer."

A wave of guilt washed over Caleb. It felt wrong to insult someone as "pure" as Serafina, but he looked back at the squalid dormitory behind him and hardened his heart. Serafina is so kind, he reasoned. If she knew how much I was suffering, she’d want me to lie to save myself.

Dominic glared at his brother, his silence a warning not to cross the line. But Caleb was done with the communal barracks.

"Serafina... Sister Serafina..." he started.

Evelyn snorted. "Is that the best you can do?"

"Serafina! Just Serafina!" Caleb corrected himself quickly. He didn't notice the figures drawing closer through the morning mist. "To be honest, Evelyn, she’s not even that pretty. She always has that miserable, hangdog look on her face, like the whole world owes her a debt."

He paused, a sudden chill creeping up his spine. He brushed it off as nerves.

Evelyn’s smile widened—not because of the insult, but because she could see the color draining from the face of the woman standing just ten yards away.

Caleb took the smile as encouragement. He thought he was winning his way into the house—and perhaps a servant in the form of Dominic to do his chores. "They say a girl changes when she hits eighteen, but look at you, Evelyn. You’ve been in the sun for weeks and you’re actually getting... fairer? More beautiful?"

He scrambled for more ammunition. "But Serafina? Before she was eighteen, she was a little bridge troll. Now that she’s eighteen, she’s just a bigger, uglier one!"

Evelyn’s laughter rang out. "Go on. If you keep this up, I might even cook you some meat. Maybe some braised pork belly or a spicy stir-fry."

"Evelyn! That’s enough!" Dominic growled.

She shot him a look of pure ice. "Mind your own damn business." Then she turned back to Caleb with a sugary grin. "Keep going."

Caleb saw the finish line. He’d get the house, the meat, and he’d just tell Dominic to keep his mouth shut later. "Serafina is useless," he sneered. "She can’t cook, she can’t clean, but boy, can she eat. If you hadn't found her that job, she’d be back home eating husks and drinking dishwater!"

Evelyn’s expression turned unreadable. "You don't think she's a delicate flower that needs protecting?"

"A flower?" Caleb scoffed. "If she’s a flower, then even the cows would stop eating grass!"

"Caleb..." a choked, sobbing voice broke through the air.

The sound—frail, aggrieved, and hauntingly familiar—turned Caleb’s blood to ice. He went rigid.

Dominic spun around and saw her. Serafina stood there, trembling. He didn't stop to wonder why she was there; he only felt a surge of protective instinct. He shot a murderous look at Caleb and rushed toward her.

"Serafina! You’re here?" Dominic stammered. "Listen, Caleb was just... he was talking nonsense. He didn't mean a word of it."

Caleb turned slowly, his face ashen. It wasn't a nightmare. She was really there.

"Caleb..." Serafina’s eyes were brimming with tears. She bit her lip, looking like a wounded bird.

"Serafina, I... I’m so sorry!" Caleb tripped over his own feet as he ran to her. "Evelyn made me do it! She forced me! She said if I didn't say those things, I’d have nowhere to sleep and nothing to eat!"

Serafina looked at him through her lashes, her voice trembling. "Is that really the truth?"

"Yes! I swear!" Caleb nodded frantically. He turned back to Evelyn, his eyes pleading for her to play along. In the past, whenever he’d screwed up, he’d give her this look, and she’d always take the fall for him.

But the old Evelyn was dead.

"I didn't force a thing," Evelyn said, her voice echoing clearly across the yard. "And don't pretend you didn't see her standing there for the last three minutes, Serafina. Are you really going to play the 'ignorant victim' now?"

Dominic felt a wave of relief that he hadn't joined in the insults. Caleb, however, looked ready to faint.

"Serafina, please..."

Serafina prepared to milk the moment. She would hold out just long enough to make her forgiveness seem like a divine act of grace. It was how she kept them all on their leashes.

Evelyn didn't give her the chance. "Oh, don't worry, Caleb," she drawled, her voice thick with sarcasm. "Your precious Serafina is far too 'kind' and 'pure' to stay mad. You could dig up her ancestors' graves, and she’d still find a way to forgive you through her tears."