This Is Wonderful 

The comfort of a predictable schedule—and figuring out how to do her job, thanks to Stephan’s new involvement in Coven business—felt like loosening a corset; Mildred took her first real breath in years. Forward movement in her life had never felt so wonderful, even if it rolled on the wheels of meetings, paperwork, and caring for Stephan while also doing most of his job.

“I’m leaving early today,” Mildred announced on the warm summer evening of her twenty-fifth birthday. She set a vase of fresh flowers from the gardens on the windowsill, rearranged them so two of the same color weren’t side by side, and stepped back to survey her work with a satisfied nod. A beautiful birthday gift from Marten. “The reports from all Coven Leaders were in on time this month, which means I’m giving them a luncheon in Hampstead as a thank you.”

She knew he didn’t really care, but saying it out loud helped her feel accomplished. Stephan waved her out from behind his book and grunted.

“Your dinner is ordered and will arrive at promptly six,” she said, tucking the blanket in around his legs despite the uncomfortable warmth in the room. “I ordered the steak with extra gravy, just the way you like it, and a separate container of salt so you can season your own potatoes.”

His cup of milk remained full, kept cold by a spell from a grimoire Mildred found in the library a few weeks before. If it warmed at all, he would send her a message demanding she return and bring him a new glass. A stack of scrolls on the best method of growing annuals waited at his fingertips, and a plate of cookies rested within reach. He reached for one and left a trail of crumbs on the pages of his current read, Growing Grass in the Southern Covens. It held his rapt attention. Mildred had gone all the way to a library in the Eastern Covens to find a book he hadn’t read yet.

With one last glance to make certain he had enough firewood for the evening, Mildred grabbed her bag and slipped into the hallway without a word. After being cooped up inside all day, she’d left enough time in her schedule to walk to the tea house for their annual birthday tradition. Stretching her legs and inhaling the crisp tint in the air that signaled the impending autumn felt like the most glorious birthday present of all. She arrived on the exact minute she’d planned.

“Happy birthday to me,” she murmured with a pleased smile. Nothing felt as satisfactory as arriving on time.

A little bell on the door chimed when she stepped inside, welcoming her to the quaint shop that still smelled faintly of glue. Charles and his wife waved from behind the counter.

“It’s all yours, Miss Mildred,” he said, hailing her with an uplifted hand. “Cake is just about ready, and you’re the first one here. A bit early, aren’t you?”

“Yes, I have some letters to read before Stella and Evelyn arrive. Thank you, Charles.”

She started up a narrow set of stairs in the back corner. The square table by the window of the second floor awaited her with a pot of iced tea, three cups, a bottle of wine for Evelyn, and small plates for the cake. The window had just been cleaned, giving her a pristine view of the sunset and the bustle of Chatham City below. Mildred sat down, let out a contented sigh, and pulled out Jorden’s latest letter.

Dearest Mildred,

I received your letter and apologize for not returning it sooner. I’m a lax brother. My latest assignment in Ashleigh has kept me busy, but—no. That’s not entirely true. Are you ready to hear the truth? Of course you are. You’re always prepared for anything.

Mildred read the words with a rueful chuckle. Jorden always had a great deal more faith in her than she had in herself.

This is the truth, sister: I’m madly in love. I met a girl named Imogen while on patrol last fall, and I can’t tear myself away from her. She’s poor, and has worked the vineyards her whole life. Her father is a man named Elijah and runs the DeAngelo vineyards. I love her. Luckily, I should be stationed in Ashleigh for the next six months, so she and I can spend all the time together we want. I plan on teaching her to transport, as she doesn’t know how, to make it easier for us to be together when I do leave. She’s wonderful, Mildred. Quiet, but incredibly smart and learns fast. I know you’ll like her.

I plan on marrying her. I’ll send you notice of when, for you must be there. I could never marry without you at my side.

Your brother,

Jorden

PS- Happy 25th birthday, dear sister.

Mildred read it twice before folding the letter together in relief. Knowing that Jorden had someone to love released a burden of worry she felt for him. Whether the girl was rich or not didn’t matter a bit, so long as she would be good to him.

I want to be a Council Member one day, but I don’t want to do it at the expense of living. Stella’s voice called from the depths of her memory. I could never be High Priestess. Forbidden from marrying! What about children? What about family? No, I shall live my life and have a career.

First Stella, now Jorden would settle into a family life, something Mildred still had difficulty comprehending. Was there something wrong with her? She couldn’t help but wonder if the assumptions she’d carried around about careers and marriage were wrong. Could she be brave like Stella and Jorden and give herself permission to love? The very idea tightened her chest.

But then Marten’s warm hazel eyes and thick eyelashes swam through her mind. She associated no panic or fear with him. Just calm strength.

Hadn’t she already fallen in love?

Emotions don’t always have the rampant grip over rationality I imagined.

She lost herself in a rare moment of daydreaming, imagining herself in a quiet little cottage with Marten at her side. Jorden would visit whenever he wanted, and she could pursue teaching. She felt more alive when she taught. No busy castle. No messages awaiting her immediate attention. No meetings or taxes or forced social interaction. For the first time in her life, she wondered if the path of Council Member on which she’d adamantly decided as a little girl wasn’t actually the best path after all.

Being with Marten and teaching does sound wonderful, she thought ruefully. But to change? To alter every expectation? She was good at running the Middle Covens. She knew, without a shred of arrogance, that she was skilled at leadership, but she didn’t love it—wasn’t passionate for it. Paperwork and messages and meetings didn’t give her the same buzz of life that teaching did.

“Milly?” She caught a glimpse of Stella’s baby blue eyes in her peripheral vision. Stella’s forehead furrowed in concern. “Oh, I’m sorry! Have I interrupted your private time?”

“No,” Mildred said, grateful for a distraction from her unexpected thoughts. “You’re fine. Please have a seat.”

Stella sat across from her with a weak smile. “Evelyn should be here soon. I sent her a message this morning but haven’t heard back.”

“The Ashleigh Covens are keeping her quite busy. I received a letter from her yesterday when she canceled our lunch meeting.”

Stella didn’t respond, staring at the cup and saucer in front of her without making a move to pour. Mildred set her cup down and waited. When a span of silence stretched for several minutes, she asked, “Is something bothering you, Stella?”

Stella lifted her luminous eyes to Mildred. “Can I tell you a secret?” she implored, wrapping her hands around each other and setting her elbows on the tabletop. “I have something on my mind, and it’s . . . it’s heavy.”

“You may.”

“I’m pregnant.”

Mildred’s heart stuttered.

“Oh, I’m so confused,” Stella cried, putting her face in her hands. “I’m so excited and so happy and so scared and so sad that I don’t even know what to think. I don’t even know what I feel!”

Mildred searched for an appropriate reply, but her brain seized. She’d never known how to say the right thing at the right time, and she’d rarely felt the burden of comforting more strongly than right then.

“Stella . . . this is wonderful.”

“Yes, it is,” she said from the muffled cave of her hands. “But it’s also frightening. What if I’m not good at it? What if I’m not happy being a mother? What about my career? I don’t . . . I don’t even know what to think anymore.”

“Then don’t think,” Mildred replied, although she would never have taken her own advice. “Just go from here, and do what you can.”

“I have to think about it. I can’t stop thinking about it. Oh, Mildred. How complicated life gets!” Stella pulled away from her hands and stared out the window. Tears clung to her eyelashes

“Have you told Dale?”

“No,” Stella whispered, her eyes welling up again. “Not yet. He’s on a month-long mission and returns in a week. I wanted some time to think everything over, but . . . perhaps you’re right. Maybe I am thinking too much. Rand is going to fire me; I just know it. All my hard work will be for nothing!”

“Your five-year contract is up in the spring,” Mildred said, grateful to switch to something concrete and less emotion-laden. “You must be due around then anyway, right?”

Stella perked up a bit. “Yes,” she said, wiping at her eyes. “Yes, I am. I believe I’m due the third month of winter, and my contract is up the first month of spring.”

“Rand doesn’t have to know yet,” Mildred said, relieved to find a vein of logic to travel. “Talk to Dale about what he thinks, and see how you feel. Maybe you can work up until you deliver and fulfill the contract instead of leaving early. Fulfilling the contract will certainly look better on your resume. Of course, leaving Chatham Castle may mean you never get back in.”

The cold, hard truth, while unsympathetic, had the intended effect. Stella’s labile emotions ebbed, at least for the moment. Her crumpled face straightened.

“You’re right, Mildred. You always are, aren’t you?”

“I like to think so.”

“I could cry all day,” Stella said, the tears returning. Her voice hardened, becoming resolute. “But I won’t, I can’t.”

“You’re having a baby,” Mildred said in a dry tone. “You’re not dying.”

Uncertain of what to do, and knowing there was nothing she could say that would change the situation, Mildred reached out and put her hand on top of Stella’s. Stella swallowed and gave her a teary smile.

“It’s going to be okay, Stella.”

“Thank you.”

A message fluttered between them, appearing with little more than a pop to announce it. Mildred’s forehead scrunched, recognizing Evelyn’s handwriting. She tore it open and read aloud.

Very busy today. The Ashleigh Covens just can’t function without my leadership, you know. These poor people are overrunning my vineyards. Save me a slice of cake. The part with the number.

—E

Stella’s eyes widened. “She’s rarely too busy to come for our birthday tradition!”

“Except for when she went to the opera with Grant instead,” Mildred said with a roll of her eyes. “I’m not quite sure what to make of Evie anymore.”

Evelyn’s absence wasn’t what bothered Mildred the most. Truth be told, Mildred wasn’t in the mood to deal with Evelyn’s mercurial emotions and strong opinions. But the line, these poor people are overrunning my vineyards, made her uneasy. She read it twice, then set the message to fire with an incantation. The paper disappeared in a puff of smoke.

“Well,” Mildred said, picking up her fork and setting her troubled thoughts of Evelyn aside. “I believe we have our twenty-fifth birthdays to celebrate tonight, don’t we? Let’s have Charles bring up the cake and change the frosting to yellow. Evelyn isn’t here to demand it be purple, so let’s take advantage of it.”