The smell of dried feverleaf and moonmint reached us before we opened the cottage door. I had made the place into a home and a second dispensary. Inside, wood scraped hard across wood.
Two of Selene's personal servants were dragging Asher's moonstone bed from his room. The constellations carved into its headboard gave off a faint blue glow, the only light that stopped his night terrors.
One bedpost gouged a fresh line through the floorboards. Beside the door lay the wooden sword I had spent a week carving for him, snapped through the middle at the painted wolf's-head hilt.
Selene stood near the emptying shelves while a servant tossed Asher's clothes into a basket. "We're taking down this wall. Zane needs a proper study now that he's the heir. This room has the best morning light."
Ashe
