With a sad smile, I trailed my fingers over the last two words, Love, Devina.

  Is she saying that she loves me?

  I wasn’t sure how much to put into it, but it was the first time she’d used the word love, and there had been a constant stream of letters going back and forth between us.

  I had brought a pen and pad and wrote my answer to her while the puppies lay sleeping on the grass next to me.

  Dear Devina,

  We will see each other again and we will repeat that night. It’s all I think about!

  I hate these last chapters of the book – simply because they are the last.

  My only hope is that your editing phase will be long and keep you here. My life has come to revolve around our letters and the answer to your question is a big yes.

  Being with you exceeded everything I’d ever envisioned intimacy could feel like.

  Love, T

  PS: I’m enclosing a flower from my garden. It’s called mountain phlox and is one of the wildflowers that grew in the meadow. For the rest of my life, at least once a day, I’ll close my eyes to remember you on that bed of flowers in the meadow. Also, Wilma sent you a letter that I’m passing on.

  I folded the paper and plucked one of the small purple flowers beside me. Picking up Wilma’s letter, I read it one more time.

  My sweet Devina,

  So sorry that I’ve only written you a few letters but I can’t tell you how busy I am as a married woman.

  Emmerson is on me all the time and we’re learning about marriage together. I’m not saying it’s easy because there are days when he annoys me more than Tyton with his know-it-all attitude. Like for instance, he postulated that all women in the Motherlands have short hair and look like men. Since I’m the only one with a Motlander friend, I consider myself an expert and I told him that you have long hair and that you’re very feminine, but guess what; Emmerson thinks that I made you up, and you want to know why? Because Tyton and my parents shook their heads like they had no idea what I was talking about when I asked them to confirm that you came to our wedding. Can you believe that shit?

  Emmerson thinks it’s cute that I have an invisible friend and when I showed him your letters as proof, he suggested that I’d fabricated the letters myself out of boredom or because I long for a female best friend.

  Do you know how stupid that makes me look now that I’m sitting here writing you?

  Anyway, men can be fools and that’s why I’m happy I have a sound friend in you who knows how real you are and that I’m not crazy.

  I love you, my dear friend, and I hope you understand that once the weather permits it, you must swim over again so I can prove to my husband that not all Motlander women have short hair.

  Big hugs and lots of kisses,

  Wilma

  It was a good thing that my parents had kept to our agreement of never telling anyone about Devina. Wilma seemed to think of their friendship as something that gave her bragging rights, but people talked and there was no reason to let the rumor reach our unstable king, who was unpredictable, dangerous, and greedy.

  A woman was worth more than all the gold in the Northlands, and who knew what twisted ideas he would have when it came to Devina?

  As I threw over the letters, I felt a pang of fear in my chest that one day Devina would pick up and move on from our letters and me. She had told me from the beginning that she wouldn’t stay forever, but I couldn’t bear the thought of losing our connection.

  CHAPTER 27

  Editing

  Devina

  My steps felt extra slow and heavy when I walked to the border that morning in December. Brushing fallen leaves off the catapult, I noticed how the wood had turned greenish and slimy from months out here in the forest.

  I squatted down next to the catapult in the same spot where I’d found Wilma’s first bottle and stared at the border wall. I hated every brick that kept me and Tyton separated.

  Nellie sat down next to me with her tongue hanging out and her eyes watching me. It was cold and her breath was showing like a cloud of moisture.

  “Don’t look at me like that. It’s been three and a half months since I saw him. This has to be done.”

  Sending this bottle off would feel like letting the catapult rip my heart apart. This was the letter Tyton feared the most. It was my goodbye.

  As a way of prolonging the moment before I had to send what felt like an arrow straight to his heart, I read my letter one last time.

  My dearest Tyton,

  As I already told you, I’ve never written a book as fast as I wrote Forbidden Letters from the North.

  With our love story as inspiration and our constant stream of letters, it felt like the story wrote itself.

  With all the times you’ve offered to come to me, the temptation grows. But the wall was never what truly separated us. It’s our difference in culture and the fact that you would be feared on this side and I’d be auctioned off on your side.

  I wish we could find the same kind of happiness as Mark and Deidra found in our story of them. But then Mark paid a high price and even if you were willing to give up on your family, the warm welcome Mark received in the Motherlands was fictional.

  The truth is that for the last months, I’ve edited the book again and again. The glimpses of happiness when I'm picking up a letter from you has made it a precious time in my life. But I can’t lie to myself any longer. It’s clear that I’m searching for things to edit so I can justify staying a little longer although I know it’s long overdue for me to go.

  Loving you is like loving a ghost that I can sense but never touch.

  My publisher loved the script I sent her and I’m bringing her the final version today.

  I’m not taking Nellie with me to the city. She wouldn’t like it there, and the forest ranger has agreed to adopt her. She already has three other dogs that Nellie likes to play with.

  I’ll be back to give over the house on December 30th. I doubt a new family will move in anytime soon since most considered us crazy for being willing to live this close to the border in the first place.

  Letting go of the house with all the memories of my family and our night together is going to be the hardest thing I ever had to do, but I can’t keep holding on to it.

  Tyton, I don’t know how to say this and I’ve written at least fifteen versions of this letter, but once I close down the house and leave, I can’t promise you that I’ll ever be back.

  I hope to find a last letter from you when I return on the 30th, but I fear that you’ll be too mad at me to write me back. In that case, I want you to know that I’ll carry the memory of you with me forever and that no matter what happens in my future, I’ll never forget you or the love we shared.

  Love, Devina

  Standing up, I took a long breath to steady my heart. My throat was itchy from the tears running down my cheeks and my hands trembled when I placed the letter in the bottle and sent it off with the catapult.

  Long after the bottle was out of sight, I stood motionless, rooted to the ground by the immense pain that filled me from knowing my words would hurt the man I loved.

  And then I heard it in the far distance. A long howl of sorrow with the word “Nooo” screamed out like someone was ripping out Tyton’s soul.

  He had read my letter and even if I’d wanted to scream back, I couldn’t with the way my throat closed, and I couldn’t breathe.

  My tears clouded my vision and Nellie whined next to me when I fell to my knees and sobbed.

  “Noooo…” The distant roar from Tyton was cutting my chest open and making my heart bleed.

  Holding my hands to my belly, my shoulders bobbed as I sucked in air between sobs.

  I had lost so many in the last six months and now I was losing Tyton too. He couldn’t guarantee my safety on his side of the border and the only thing that I could guarantee on my side was that I would love him. I didn’t for one second believe that would be enough when everyone else would loathe everything he represented. In the book, Mark had faked his own suicide in order to live with Deidra, but the pain that would inflict on Tyton’s loved ones made that unthinkable.

  Ever since I found out that I was pregnant, I’d wanted to tell him so badly. But if Tyton knew about it, he would have climbed the wall and refused to ever leave me.

  I should have told him, the selfish part of me blamed myself but in all his letters he’d talked about fishing with Frederick and his father, hiking and racing with his friends. Tyton was social and had people he loved and who loved him in the Northlands. I couldn’t fill all their shoes and if there was anything I understood, it was loneliness.

  There was a reason no Nman and Motlander lived together. It was simply because it only worked in a romance.

  CHAPTER 28

  Publishing

  Devina

  “This is outstanding work, my darling.” My publisher, Ebony, had her short curly hair under control with a yellow hairband that contrasted with her dark skin. “When you first spoke about an Nman, I thought you were joking, but this story is like something out of the olden days. It’s like you’re writing with a completely new, fresh, and unique voice, and the steamy scenes were so unexpected.”

  “Do you think the audience will like it?”

  Ebony leaned back. Resting her elbows on the side of her chair, she let her fingertips meet and form a triangle in front of her. “They will either love it or hate it. It’s one of those books. Oh, but don’t look so scared, I was up reading it all night, and I’ve already passed it on to three people here at the office. If they are as impressed as me, we’ll go all in and push this baby so far into the world that everyone will know about Forbidden Letters from the North.” Ebony narrowed her eyes. “This could be your big breakthrough.”

  “You think?”

  “Yes! I don’t want you to get your hopes up, but I’m thinking of swapping your release date with Anisa’s. She’s on a mountain somewhere meditating and I’m not convinced she’s up for the press tour.”

  My eyes found the pictures of Ebony with Anisa, one of the most famous authors in the Motherlands. The two women were smiling at some book-signing event.

  “Okay.”

  “If we work fast, your book could be going out to librarians next week. If they like it, they’ll share it with the reading groups and we’ll be golden.

  “Why rush it? You always said it’s better to take our time.”

  “I know, but when you have something like this, it’s too good to sit on.” Pursing her lips, she gave me a mischievous smile. “We’re so close to beating the other publishers, and your book could be our winter miracle.”

  “All right.” It was all going so fast and I’d never seen her so enthusiastic about any of my books. “That sounds good.”

  “Great!” Standing up, she moved around her table. “But I have to ask you. How in the world did you come up with the idea of mixing romance with an Nman? It’s so bold. I mean, you might as well have written about a demon or Lucifer himself.”

  “Maybe Nmen aren’t as bad as we think.”

  “Ha!” Ebony shook her head. “As long as they stay on their side of the border, I don’t mind playing pretend games, but if I saw one in real life, I’d run for my life.”

  I furrowed my brow. “You wouldn’t even give him a chance before you ran?”

  “Nooo. Can you imagine?” She laughed.

  “So what if, on a hypothetical level of course, my book wasn’t based on my imagination but on an actual experience? What if I knew an Nman and wanted him to live here with me?”

  Ebony stared at me like I was talking in a dead language.

  “What if I was in love with an Nman?” I specified.

  Her whole face fell and she walked over to take my hand. “Darling, this happens sometimes, you know. All great authors have artistic souls and your characters feel real to you. I should have known that being alone in that forest for so long wasn’t healthy for you. Especially after what happened to your family.” Lifting her hand to her collarbone, she looked ridden with guilt. “How awful that we didn’t insist on your coming back here.”

  “I’m fine.”

  “Okaay…” She dragged the word out and it dripped with skepticism. “Then you understand that Mark is just a character, right?”

  I pulled my hand back. “Of course.”

  “Good.”

  “I’m just asking you if you think our society could embrace and welcome an Nman if he decided to live here.”

  “In theory, yes.”

  “But in reality?”

  She shrugged. “Well, as long as he was willing to shave and fit in with the rest of us, I suppose it wouldn’t be impossible. But he would have to give up everything that makes him an Nman and where’s the fun in that?”

  “But Deidra accepted Mark for who he was.”

  “What would it matter, if the things he enjoys are illegal here? He couldn’t fish, hunt, eat meat, or wear leather. And he would have to give up alcohol, which he seemed very fond of in your book.”

  “Yes, but they would have each other.”

  Ebony sat down on the edge of the table. “You know what, when readers ask you, just stick with the answer that it’s possible. It’s better if you don’t get too realistic. Let them love the fantasy of Mark as the dangerous demon.”

  “He’s not a demon. He’s a man.”

  “Who can hurt you.” Ebony winked. “I felt almost filthy for loving the book so much but I suppose even we modern women can dream of fixing corrupted men.”

  Pushing the chair back, I got up from my seat. “He’s not a demon!”

  “All right, calm down. I didn’t mean to upset you.” Ebony rose to her feet and took my hand again. “You seem stressed. Why don’t you go and get a massage? That helps.”

  I wanted to scream that I could never have a massage again without being reminded of Tyton and it would hurt too much.

  “See your friends and go out a little. It’ll do you good, my dear. Once we’ve had an internal meeting about your book, I’ll tell you what the plan is and we’ll get you all set up for the press tour.”

  A few hours after I’d left Ebony’s office, I met up with two of my author friends whom I’d studied with. After the initial kissing and hugging we caught up and talked about their current projects and when it was time to talk about me, I suddenly got uncomfortable.

  “Didn’t you say you had a meeting with your publisher this morning?” My friend Tina blew her nose and it made her large blonde curls bounce around her head. “I’m so sorry but my nose is stuffy. I thought about canceling, but it’s been so long since we saw you and I’ve missed you.”

  I smiled. “I missed you too. And you’re right, I met with Ebony today.”

  “And did it go well?”

  “I think so. She was excited about the book and called it fresh and unique.”

  Amber, who had been in an accident as a child and sat in a wheelchair, leaned in. “I’m dying to know what it’s about.”

  “It’s a romance.”

  “A romance?” The surprise on Tina’s face was followed by Amber's wrinkling her nose up and tossing her many thin braids over her shoulders. The bright colors of pink, yellow, green, blue, and purple yarn in her braids complimented her caramel-colored skin.

  “Who writes romances nowadays?”

  Taken aback by Amber’s negative tone, I arched an eyebrow. “I do.”

  “But why? Is there even an audience for that?”

  Tina shushed Amber, and focused on me. “What’s the book about?”

  I told them about Forbidden Letters from the North and Tina moved further to the edge of her chair. “And then what?”

  “Then Mark’s brother follows him and climbs the wall too. He’s jealous and waits until Mark goes home that night and then he sneaks into Deidra’s house.”

  “Oh no.” Tina gasped while Amber covered her ears. “If he hurts her, I don’t want to hear about it. This is getting scary.”

  “Relax, it’s a romance. They always have happy endings.”

  “What kind of happy story involves a woman in danger? I’m surprised your publisher didn’t tell you to remove that part.”

  “A little danger can hook your audience.” I blew down at my cup of tea, which was too hot for me to drink.

  “You mean traumatize them.”

  “Amber is right. You have to be careful not to write something too upsetting.”

  I stared at them. “What’s wrong with you two? I’ve been gone less than six months and you talk like you’ve forgotten everything Professor Maddison taught us at the university: good writing makes your blood boil, your head spin, or your pulse speed up. You may hate what you read, but if words can affect you that much, the author did well.”

  When they just exchanged a wary glance, I groaned. “You do remember those words, right?”

  Amber fiddled with the armrest of her wheelchair. “I’m not sure I believe those words anymore. The Council has been collecting data on the effects of emotionally loaded entertainment and it’s alarming. I mean people used to love horror stories and now everyone knows that they are toxic for your brain.”

  “Still. Isn’t it our very job as authors to provoke and excite readers? How can I write a book if I’m scared of upsetting their feelings?”

  Amber shrugged. “Tina and I both write mystery novels, and we’ve had to adapt after the ban on horror came out. Now we just make sure it never gets too much.”

  I frowned. “So, you’re okay with the Council censoring our writing?”

  Amber nodded. “I think they have to. I would be devastated if I traumatized or upset anyone.”

  Leaning back, I sat down my tea and hooked my hands under my thighs. “That’s bonkers.”

 

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