Free Heart of Stone by Anya Monroe Page B

to see him sullen when she had the ominous fortune looming over her. Henri hadn’t spent the night having his life unravel.
    They walked in silence through the trees. The night heavy, and the mood heavy too. Sophie clutched the still warm moonstone necklace. She had no plan of what would happen after Beznik dropped her off in the North, but she’d start her trek east, believing that she would find what she looked for one way or another.
    When they reached the clearing where Beznik’s wagon corralled, they both stopped instinctively. Bohèmes hitched their horses as early morning yawns crossed the mouths of men preparing to leave. Five wagons were getting hitched to go.
    Sophie looked at Henri. His eyes brimmed with tears, his face soft in the places hers was strong.
    “Don’t cry, Henri. You’ll embarrass yourself,” Sophie scolded.
    “No. It would be impossible to feel embarrassment when all I feel is longing. You are leaving. The girl I have spent my days with, the girl I want to spend my life with, is leaving.”
                  Henri took a small box from the pocket of his jacket and offered it to her with a trembling hand.
    “This is for you. I wanted to give it to you with the promise of forever strung between us, but I know now that isn’t happening. You never had me in mind when you planned your future.”
    “Henri, don’t.” Sophie shook her head. The words he said couldn’t be taken back. Speaking them would change everything between them, forever.
    “This is a gift from me to you, no strings attached.”
    He held it so solemnly, so un-Henri-like; that she grabbed the box so he would stop looking at her like that.
    “Alright.” She stuffed it in the pocket of her dress. “I will keep in touch. Obviously. Letters and such. Okay? Just get over me, all right? Find some silly girl I would hate and fall madly in love to spite me.”
    “That is exactly why I love you.”
    “Ugh. Henri. No. Don’t say that. I promise you, when we cross paths again; we will have the champagne toast we were supposed to have last night. Until then, bonjour .” Sophie leaned in and kissed his cheeks gently, and stole away through the bushes.
    Sophie determined to not look back. Looking back would make her weak, and now she needed to be strong. She discreetly walked through the campsites, passing fires with cooling embers. Everyone prepared to leave.
    Herself included.
    Finding herself outside Beznik’s wagon she smiled with fake enthusiasm, because leaving, without Henri, assumed so much uncertainty. Before, when she imagined becoming a miner, not much changed about who Sophie was. Now everything felt different.
    Who were her parents? Did they long for adventure as she did? Sophie wanted to hold onto the notion that they left for a noble cause, but Sophie was a bit too jaded for entertaining those sorts of notions for long. The truth was, Sophie’s parents left. Her. She only wanted to know why.
    “Sophie!” Beznik called as she walked toward him. His dopey lopsided grin genuine, and Sophie knew she’d be safe in his company.
    “Is Emel here?” Sophie asked biting her lip. She wasn’t interested in starting the trip with that girl.
    “No, I think she … err … she is sleeping with a friend tonight. It’s you and I, dearie.
    “This is more generous than I deserve. I just want to avoid … her.” Sophie pointed to the wagon that turned her world upside down.
    “Come on, you can sit up here, keep me company while I drive.” He took Sophie’s hand and helped her up the wooden ladder to the painted wagon’s bench. He walked to the back of the wagon to drop off her bag.
                  Beznik took the reigns as the caravan’s line began to move. “I’d best be sitting if I were you. And keep quiet. The others wouldn’t very much like us taking a Gemmes girl with us.”
                  “Well, I’m wearing Miora’s moonstone, I must not be all that