The cold winter sun shone prisms in his frosty breath over Leo’s—properly hooded, this time—head, and at his side sat Michaela on her own horse. She was singing them away from the castle wall, down the road that led toward the sea, and her voice was angelic.She must have sung the song to the boy before, for Leo joined in sporadically. It was a lovely duet. Roderick was mesmerized.Not a word had been breathed between him and Miss Fortune about their discussion of the previous night, but Roderick could see the faint purple streaks in the delicate hollows of her eyes, and could feel the distance she’d placed between them.She would accept it. She must.Because Roderick could feel himself improving. It was madness, he knew. Or magic, or devilish sorcery, mayhap. He didn’t understand it, and he didn’t care. A maddening idea had seized him that perhaps once day, his entire leg…But he would not let his thoughts go there in the daylight. He still wore the old brown leather shoe on his right foot, under his own bulky riding boot.
