He led me down the large steps into the castle courtyard, twirling me as we went. I carefully balanced on the balls of my feet as I spun down the steps. Skirts danced around my ankles, as I was forced to grip my skirt as I came to a stop opposite him.
“Are we dancing Lord Tomas?” I asked, smiling. He eyed me carefully, wondering how I had kept from falling. It amused me that he played such games, wanting to reaffirm his position over my captain. Men were petty when it came to women.
“In my hurry I forgot to watch my steps. My apologies.”
I wafted it away, looking into those daring eyes, “no harm done. What were you wanting to show me?”
“Ah!” He turned to the guards standing by the gate, “bring our horses to the gate, I have a city to show my Lady.”
They rushed to his service, scampering about like little mice. The thought reminded me of last night’s conversation and I smiled. He turned to my smile, his face softening.
“I enjoy your smile Madelaine; it brings out your dimples.”
The comment reminded me of my younger self sitting on the kitchen bench, legs swinging as I convinced the cook to pass over the cookie tin. She had said that.
The horses were brought out, my dappled mare watching the men with a curious expression in her eyes. I walked over, eying the side saddle. Lovely. I took off a ribbon pinned to my sleeve and braided my hair to the side of my head, tying it at the end.
Lord Tomas swung up into his saddle, his own chestnut pawing the ground. He watched me mount, Sarah coming out of nowhere and producing a step. I silently thanked her and pulled the reins in, raising an eyebrow.
“Shall we?”
He nodded and flicked his reins, leading me out the castle walls into the city. People stopped to watch us, children flying out of the way. I smiled and nodded a greeting, receiving smiles covered in grime. A child ran up to my horse, holding up a bunch of white flowers. Lord Tomas moved to dismount when a young man picked up the child, presenting her to me.
“Pretty Lady.” The girl murmured.
I accepted the flowers and ran a hand down her face, gently pulling down her chin to kiss her forehead.
“You have such beautiful eyes little one.” I said, smiling and thanking the young man for his assistance. Lord Tomas pulled in next to me, taking some of the bishop’s lace and tucking it into the pocket of his jerkin. It peeped out, watching the world from his breast. He took the rest and gently pressed them into my hair, slipping them between twining locks.
“I fear this has become your flower,” he said as our horses circled, “it will become valuable indeed.”
“It is beautiful, delicate and simplistic.”
“You are far from simplistic,” he said, frowning, “perhaps we should plant rose bushes in the city.”
I laughed, the sound startling the people around us. Do nobles never laugh? “I like this flower. Do not rob me.”
He held up his hands in surrender and I pulled out of the ever-closing circle. As I passed him his hand flicked out to run across the mane of my horse, his eyes finding mine.
“Where are we going?” I asked, “You have told me nothing!”
“You will see Lady Madelaine.” He purred, spurring his horse. I followed, gazing at the little shops I passed. Raised on an estate, it was all curious to me. Butchers, bakers, carpenters, grocers… endless shops. Side streets skittered into view and disappeared before my eyes. It was a busy, cluttered and exciting. A young man leaned against the wall of an inn, watching us pass. His face was carefully turned so I could only see one side. His black hair was flung around his shoulders, masking his eyes. Yet something irked me about him, as though he was a thorn hovering over my flesh. We passed him too quickly, and I fought the urge to turn in my saddle.
“What distracts you my Lady?” Lord Tomas asked, a small furrow forming on his forehead.
“I am simply gazing at your city Sir,” I smiled, using the words to turn my head a fraction. The young man had turned to sneak back into the streets, revealing his torn cheek as he flicked his hair away. I gasped and turned it into a hiccup, covering my mouth. Lord Tomas turned to catch the darting movements of the scoundrel, slowing so we rode side by side.
“What ails you Madelaine?” he asked quietly, “what is that man to you?” He smiled, as though we were exchanging flirty verses, relaxed in the saddle.
“I think, the rats have come into your city of mice.” I said softly, peeking coyly from my eyelashes.
“Better sharpen my cat’s claws then.” He said, taking my hand, and kissing just above my knuckles. Despite our conversation, a shiver ran up my arm and he looked at me sharply. I could feel the place he had kissed me like a sunburn, fading away as my skin climatized.
“Are you cold?”
Before I could deny it he had swept his cloak from his shoulders, placing it around my own. A crowd watched this display, hiding in the pockets of streets, stalls, and verandas around us. He went to button the top and laughed at how dwarfed I was within the folds. The crowd laughed along with him, two children dancing in a circle.
“We wish ye well in your wedding Sir,” The blacksmith yelled out between his hammering.
“Beautiful maiden within your cloak Lord,” another laughed.
“Kindness within her smile.” An old woman croaked, the others around her nodding. I glanced back at Sarah, watching her smother her own giggle. She shrugged and walked her horse up an inch so I could hear her, “use this Madelaine, make them love you and none can come between you.”
I gripped the handholds tightly, and in a whirl of skirts and fabrics I descended my horse. Lord Tomas turned to my movement and moved to help, almost falling off his chestnut. The crowd laughed, but stepped back as I came forward.
“Are you Lord Tomas’s people?” I asked, receiving a roar in response. “You must love him.”
“As much as ye’ll ‘ave us.” A woman smirked, winking. I laughed, reaching out my hands to grip her course fingers. The touch of a lady made her eyes widen, and I smiled, “your hands are testament to your love mistress.” watching her grip my white gloves firmly.
“Thankyou.” She mumbled as I swept past her, returning to my horse. A solider appeared and cupped his hands together for my foot. Delicately I rested my hand on his shoulder as the other found the hand hold.
Lord Tomas watched my display, a curious smile on his face, “we have hardly left the castle, and already my people love you.”
The crowd agreed as he moved to grip my reins, moving me around, “it grows late in the day, and I have much to prepare.” He said, “thankyou kind people!”
“Blessings to you,” they chorused, returning to work.
"What of your surprise?"
"We have tomorrow to play," he said, "the flags on the castle wall says we have a messenger."
We returned back the way we came. Though I glanced at where the man had been, he left no trace.
_______________________________________________________________________
Hamish:663Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡRPYKzcSiqP
I watched them return, watched as she allowed him to grip her waist and lift her down to the ground. She could get down without a ladder – even from side saddle, by herself. But she was playing her part well. She would marry this man, and I could not, and should not stop it. I banged my fist on the wall beside the window, cringing when the wound sent a spike of pain up my torso.
It had never felt real, that she would be sent off. That she would belong to a man. Jealously flared in my chest, forming a resentment I knew would turn me bitter if I let it.
“Any woman” Sarah had said, as though it was easy to acquire the connection, the understanding, the endearment. Love. I scowled, returning to my bed as I heard hurried steps. I knew nothing of it.
“Hamish,” Laine called, her face showing a slight blush along her cheek bones, “are you feeling better?”
“Do you always run to your servants like this?” I demanded.
“I just-” The shock on her face sent regret through me, forcing me to glare at the ceiling.
“I do not want to talk to you.” I said coldly, “I do not wish to get in the way.”
“Of what?” she snapped, “I am here to make sure you have not further injured yourself.”
I threw the sheet off in barely controlled rage, showing her my naked, bruised torso and bandages. “I am coping.”
“I see.” She said. The pain laced in her voice snapped me from my self-pity and I looked down.
“I’m sorry Laine,” I sighed, “I am not myself.”
“No,” she whispered, turning to walk out the room, “you’re not.”
ns 15.158.61.20da2
