Jacin Clay stood just outside the door, his hand outstretched as if he had been reaching to pull it open. He wore a dark, fitted uniform with a red sash across the front, his white-blond hair tied back at the nape of his neck. His strong, angular features betrayed a mixture of shock and something Winter couldn't quite identify, something that made her knees go weak and her breath come more quickly.

"Mr. Clay," she choked out. "It's—it's good to see you again."

Mr. Clay's eyes drifted over to Selene as if just noticing her. He nodded. "Lady Selene."

"Mr. Clay." Selene looked between her cousin and the young man, a hint of a smile playing on her mouth. "Lady Winter and I were just about to walk back to our home. We thought we'd take the path next to the creek, since the weather is so fine. Perhaps you could accompany us."

Winter shot Selene a glance, but Mr. Clay answered immediately. "I would be honored."

As they walked up the road, Mr. Clay took Winter's arm. A tingle went through her, though their skin never touched. She held to the rough fabric of his uniform and looked back at her cousin, who had discreetly fallen into step several paces behind them. Selene raised her eyebrows at Winter but said nothing.

Winter turned back to Mr. Clay.

"I've missed y—"

"How is Lady Bl—" he began at the same time.

They both stopped and looked at each other, hands dropping to their sides. It was the first time she'd met his eyes since they'd started walking. They were so blue. She imagined herself diving into their ocean-like depths, swimming through his irises like a dolphin.

To her surprise, he seemed equally as entranced. He so rarely let down his guard when they were together, but after so many months apart, he looked as if he could drown in her.

And then the moment was over. He turned forward and offered his arm again, moving further down the path once she accepted.

He cleared his throat. "Is Lady Blackburn well?"

"My stepmother's health is impeccable," Winter breathed, still a bit lightheaded from the intense moment. "As it always is."

"And your education?"

"I think you'll find I'm becoming quite accomplished," she joked, hoping to bring some levity to the situation. "I've read so many poems this winter I have half a mind to call myself Lady Byron."

The edges of his mouth turned up but went no further. "You'd make an admirable poet."

Winter glanced once more at Selene, who had fallen back enough to be out of range of hearing. She thanked her cousin furiously in her head. That wonderful girl.

She shook her head. "I fear I would only write poems about ice-blue oceans and soldiers with yellow hair."

To her dismay, his slight smile fell into a frown. The expression made his angular face look harsh, demonstrating why Selene and Cress called him Sir Surly behind his back.

"Lady Winter," he said, his jaw tight. "I meant what I told you before. I should be nothing to you. The daughter of a baron doesn't spend her days thinking about a common soldier."

This daughter of a baron does, she wanted to say. Every lucid moment is engulfed by thoughts of that so-called 'common' soldier.

Instead, she simply said, "I've never been good at listening."

He ran a hand down his face and looked away from Winter once again. They walked without speaking for a time, the only sounds the burbling of the creek and some chirping birds. Winter imagined the creek overflowing to above her knees, the water sweeping her and Mr. Clay away, Selene clinging to a tree as they passed her.

"Lady Winter."

It was not a question but a statement, resigned and hopeful all at once. Winter smoothed her dress down as they walked; she dared not look up at him.

"Yes, Mr. Clay?"

"I—" He stopped, glanced around them. They stood at the edge of the grove, Artemesia Manor rising above them. Selene continued past them, smiling slyly as she walked across the yard and into the house.

"I—I'm not good for you," he said finally, though there was little commitment in his voice. "We're not a good match, can't you see that?"

"I'm incapable of seeing that, because it's not true," she said. "You are the ocean and I am the sky. Though we are not the same, it's impossible to separate us. We belong together."

"Winter—Lady Winter—"

She reach out suddenly and took his hand. They both stared at their intertwined fingers, neither person breathing. Winter slowly raised their two hands until they were eye level.

Gently, Mr. Clay pulled her hand to his lips. He held her eyes as he kissed her knuckles, then he just as gently extricated his hand from her grasp and stepped back.

"I must bid you farewell, Lady Winter." He bowed slightly and disappeared back down the path.

Winter still held her hand up, and she stared at the spot where Mr. Clay's lips had touched her. A wind blew through the trees and broke her out of her trance. Finally, she took in a shaky breath and began to walk toward the towering manor.