Carry Me Sweetly – Laney Arden

But all of the details blurred together, he couldn’t even recall what they had talked about yesterday. He’d be so distracted, always eager to get back to Soren. He meets Fierge’s eyes, her eyebrows raised in anticipation. “If she did, it slipped my mind.” He rushed out, not wanting his distractedness to reflect badly on the kind mouse. “Are you alright? I might be able to help.” “It’s always worse today, I’ll be fine.”

She dismissed him with a wave of her hand. “Today is the anniversary of the day my father died— it’s a mandated day of mourning.” She began moving to the large wardrobe next to her window, and Tumbrel finally took a look around her room. It was simple, yet elegant. Heavy fabrics dyed every shade of green hung from every wall, a large bed sat against the far wall, trinkets and baubles decorated every surface, and twisting vines of ivy stretched across the whole room, presumably growing from somewhere in the ceiling and the cracks in the walls.

His study of her chambers is interrupted by a heavy bundle of fabric being tossed at his chest. “Put this on.” Fierge instructed, straightening her own cloak. “The Queen didn’t even want you to come today. Afraid it would send the wrong message. But you’re here now, so put these on. Quickly.” She turned around, busied herself with straightening out the blankets on her bed, re-tucking in an already perfectly flat corner.

The clothes she gave him were thick and baggy, but she seemed so panicked, entirely not herself. He had already made this bad enough by dozing off in clearly important lessons with Muria and showing up here today, he wasn’t about to let Fierge get in trouble with her evil mother over his mistakes.

“You, um, can turn around now.” He felt very childish, standing in her room, baggy clothes sitting uncomfortably on his lanky form. When she turned around, her face softened. She stepped forward and began messing with his hair, running her fingers through it and straightening the errant strands of barely that never seemed to sit quite right. “Much better.” She hummed, flattening out the cloak where it sat crooked and crumbled against his shoulders. “I’m sorry.”

Tumbrel rushed out quickly, before she went back to being angry and anxious. “For your dad. And showing up here.” “It’s okay. I’m glad you’re here.” Her smile was soft and sad, and Tumbrel finally realized her hands were still on his shoulders.

This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, businesses, events, and incidents are the product of the author’s imagination. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, or actual events is purely coincidental. The book or parts thereof may not be reproduced in any form, stored in any retrieval system, or transmitted in any form by any means, electronic, mechanical, photocopy, recording, or otherwise, without prior written permission of the author, except as provided by the United States of America copyright law.

This book may not be used to train AI models, or input into any AI model in part or whole. No generative AI was used in writing or editing of this book. Cover design by Enchanted Ink Design Internal Art by Laney Arden and Abigail Schmitz 1kitap1.com/en To all my LGBTQ+ friends— here’s a fairytale for us. 1kitap1.com/en The soft stars are shining The moon is alight The folks of the forest Are dancing tonight O swift and gay Is the song they sing They float and sway As they dance in a ring O seek not to find them The wee folk so fair They’re shy as the swallow And swift as the air If you come they are gone Like a snowflake in May Like a breath like a sigh They vanish away -The Fairy Dance Katherine Davis (1892-1980) 1kitap1.com/en CHAPTER 1 Tumbrel A biting cold wind blew in through the garden, rustling the leaves of rosemary and thyme that surrounded Tumbrel.

Soon it would be time to roll out the burlap tarps to keep the plants safe from the oncoming cold season. For now, the perennial herbs were holding strong, the roots of the vegetables were healthy, and the recently planted aconite and snowdrops had even begun to bloom. Thick layers of mulch and pine needles had been laid atop the garden beds as an added layer of protection for the winter. Tumbrel had spent all morning elbow deep in the soil, fingers barely reaching the shortest roots, imbuing the more delicate plants with his healing magic.

As a result, his overalls were covered in dirt and the smell of soil and pine had sunk deep into his pores. Hopefully, it would all be worth it. He couldn’t do much, but he prayed these small boons of life and light would help the garden survive when the snow and frost moved in. Tumbrel stepped out of the plant bed and onto the well-worn cobblestone path. The sun had risen high in the sky, nearly at its apex.

Beams of light poked through the overcast sky causing pillars of sunlight to dance across the garden. The clouds shifted and Tumbrel felt warm sunlight on his face.

This is a short excerpt from the opening of “” by Unknown, quoted for review and introduction purposes. All rights belong to the copyright holders.

Book Information

• Unique ID: 2a727edc40d61e08
• File Extension: .pdf
• File Size: 1,761,366 bytes (1.68 MB)
• Title: –
• Author: Unknown
• Pages: 156
• Language: English (en)

Reading & Word Statistics

• Estimated Reading Time: 259.55 minutes
• Total Words: 51,909
• Total Characters: 290,959
• Average Words per Page: 332.75
• Average Characters per Page: 1865.12

Most Frequent Words

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