Gethin, Ebony, and I headed back to my kitchen. I let the door swing shut behind us. The kitchen was like a cocoon. It smelled of freshly baked bread and herbs. I wondered who had been cooking because it wasn't me. I looked over at the tulips in the vase on the windowsill. The petals were a mixture of vibrant orange and yellow, like shards of captured sunrise.

I touched the blooms. The petals felt soft against my skin. I took comfort in their simple beauty. Amid all the recent chaos, they were a reminder of normality.

The door creaked as Agnes entered the kitchen. "I'm sorry. The villagers are talking, Evie. They think it's your fault what happened to me," Agnes said, looking worried. "Maeve heard what I said and made the wrong assumption, and now." She stopped, wringing her hands in her lap.

I felt sick. I had felt the distance between me and the villagers yesterday, like the turning of a tide against me. But hearing it from Agnes made it real and more painful. I felt Gethin place his hand in the small of my back.

"You know what their like May, this will all die down. Evie is still the new shiny thing for people to talk about."

"I wanted none of this," I said. "I never wanted to cause any trouble. "

Agnes reached out and put her hand on my arm. "I know you didn't," she said. "But people fear what they don't understand. And right now, they don't understand you and your connection to this land."

"I'm not sure I really understand. Surely they understood how May's gifts worked." I looked at Gethin, feeling lost and overwhelmed. He met my gaze with a steady, reassuring look that seemed to ground me.

"Come on," he said softly, guiding me towards the kitchen table. "Let's sit down for a moment."

I sank into a chair, aware of how tired I felt. Gethin took the seat next to me, close enough that I could feel the warmth radiating from him.

"Evie," he began, his voice low and calm, "I know this is all a lot to take in, but I am amazed by the grace you are handling all of this with. The villagers are will come around, they always do. They just need time to understand."

"But what if they don't?" I whispered, voicing the fear that had been gnawing at me.

Gethin reached out and took my hand in his. His touch was warm and comforting.

"Then we'll face it together," he said firmly. "You're part of this community now, Evie. And I promise you, we will get through this together."

I looked up at him, surprised by the intensity in his eyes. For a moment, I forgot about the villagers, the threats, even the mysterious symbols. All I could focus on was the sincerity in Gethin's gaze.

"Thank you," I said, my voice barely above a whisper.

Gethin squeezed my hand gently. "You're stronger than you know, Evie. And you have friends here. Agnes, Gideon, me, we're all on your side."

I felt a lump form in my throat, touched by his words and the unwavering support in his voice. For the first time since the chaos had begun, I felt a glimmer of hope.

"Now," Gethin said, a hint of a smile playing on his lips, "how about we make some tea? I find it helps in times like these."

I couldn't help but let out a small laugh. "Tea sounds good," I admitted.

"I'm worried that my injury and all this attention is making things worse for you. You've not had a chance to grieve for your gran, and now this is all happening to you," said Agnes. I seemed strange that a nymph who'd been around for centuries was worried about making my life worse.

"It's not your fault," I said. "You've been great since I arrived. If anything," I hesitated. "If anything, I would have fallen apart ages ago if it wasn't for you."

Agnes held my gaze, and the air between us filled with unspoken fears. "Evie," she said. "There's something else I've been meaning to talk to you about."

I leant in. I could tell whatever she was about to share was serious. The room seemed to hush, the only sound the soft ticking of the clock on the mantelpiece.

"It's May," Agnes said. "Your gran, there were things that happened before she passed. Strange things we couldn't explain."

My heart skipped a beat. I still remembered my gran so vividly, her laughter echoing through the halls of the Willow Grove Inn.

"What kind of things?" I asked, curiosity battling a knot of anxiety.

Agnes looked out of the window for a moment, as if collecting her thoughts. "Objects moving on their own, whispers in the night. It was like there was a restless energy in the air around her."

I shivered. I'd felt something similar since I'd been here, like there was an underlying tension to Llyncroft.

"And you think, what? That May was murdered?" I said, the words tasting bitter in my mouth. I couldn't believe I was even saying them.

Gethin cleared his throat, giving Agnes a meaningful look I didn't understand. "We couldn't find any evidence May was murdered, but her death was sudden."

I felt a chill run down my spine. "Sudden?" I echoed, my voice barely above a whisper. "She was healthy, wasn't she?"

Agnes nodded slowly. "Yes, she was. She had some minor ailments, but nothing life-threatening. Her death caught us all off guard."

I swallowed hard, trying to process this new information. "What about these strange occurrences you mentioned?" I asked, turning to Agnes. "Did they happen before or after she passed?"

"Both," Agnes replied, her eyes filled with a mix of sadness and concern. "In the weeks leading up to her death, she mentioned feeling watched and hearing whispers at night. After she passed, the disturbances grew more frequent."

I felt a lump form in my throat. My gran had always been a strong woman, grounded and unshakeable. The thought of her feeling scared and vulnerable was heartbreaking.

"Did she ever tell anyone else about these things?" I asked, my voice trembling slightly.

"She confided in me," Agnes said softly. "But she didn't want to worry you or anyone else. She thought it might be her mind playing tricks on her."

"Was Gran ever warned off like I was by the stranger we saw?" I asked, my voice trembling slightly as I remembered the menacing figure by the tree.

Agnes exchanged a glance with Gethin, her eyes filled with a sadness that seemed to age her. "There were incidents," she admitted quietly. "May received anonymous letters and warnings to stay away from certain parts of the land. But she never let it deter her. She was stubborn."

I took a deep breath, trying to steady myself. The idea my gran had faced similar threats and continued on undeterred gave me a strange sense of strength. "Did she ever confront anyone about it?" I asked.

Gethin leaned forward, his piercing blue eyes fixed on mine. "She tried to find out who was behind the threats," he said. "But whoever it was, they were careful. They covered their tracks well."

I nodded slowly, feeling a surge of determination. "I need to know who's behind all this," I said firmly. "For Gran's sake and for mine."

Gethin gave me an encouraging nod. "We'll get to the bottom of it," he said confidently, standing up, stretching slightly as he did so. "Let's make that tea," he suggested with a smile.

"Why didn't she let me know what was happening?" I asked, catching Ebony's eye, who sauntered over to me and rubbed her head against mine.

Gethin placed a reassuring hand on my shoulder. "Evie," he said gently, "none of this is your fault. You couldn't have known."

I looked up at him, tears stinging my eyes. "But what if I could have helped her? What if?"

"Stop," Gethin interrupted firmly but kindly. "You can't blame yourself for this. We need to focus on finding answers now."

I took a deep breath, trying to steady myself. He was right; dwelling on what-ifs wouldn't help anyone. I looked at Agnes. "You think whatever happened to May is happening again?" I asked, trying to make sense of everything.