Chapter 25:
Westfield
“If I read one more sentence about how many calves were born to whoever… I may go crazy,” Madelaine remarked from her armchair, thrusting out her arm holding my report book.
“It’s my job.” I reminded her, reaching for the book.
She snatched it back from my grasp, grinning at me. “You, have an incredibly boring job.”
I heard the laugh come out of my mouth, one that matched my heart. She was a joy to talk to, using different regional accents and languages while reading the reports. At one point she read it in a language I had never heard before, laughing at my confused face. I felt elated, watching her slowly shed identity after identity. She had kicked off her shoes, her dainty feet swinging merrily beside the armchair.
“This room…” she said softly, as though she read my mind, “it feels like a pocket in time. Nothing can touch us here.”
“The world outside my study is a hard one.” I agreed, smiling at her, “you seem to have lost a burden.”
She swung her legs back to the floor, her skirts gliding neatly with her. “And I shall pick them up again when I leave.”
“Thankyou… for being here with me.” I said, a moments decision resting in my mind. Standing, I went to the bookcase, taking out my hidden book. In the centre a small keyhole was inserted. Taking out the ancient key I knelt beside her chair, watching her draw her feet up. The gentle peach colour of her dress dripped down to the floor, though she tucked her feet away.
“There are only two keys to this room,” I said solemnly, “it is my haven. I bestow this gift upon you trusting that you will not abuse your right to my152Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡV9bZtMwXSx
sanctuary.”
I presented the key to her, watching her eyes fill with a soft glee. “Sir,” she said, pulling me up so we were face to face, “I will treasure this gift for all152Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡXMVkkV3Nkb
time.”
Then she leaned into me, pressing her lips to mine. I smiled into the kiss, feeling her wrap her arms around my neck. 152Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡTEUtusviIV
_____________________________________________________________________________________________________
Hamish
“So,” William said slowly, pouring me a drink. We sat in a knight’s tavern, the only one I had ever been admitted to. They had been famous when I was a child, a place where all knights and soldiers were welcome, no matter their differences. But they were dying out, this being of the few left.
“Yes Captain?” I asked, “what’s on your mind?”
“A certain lady.” He replied evenly, watching the inhabitants of the tavern. We sat in a darkened corner, though I doubted any of his men would listen in, such was their loyalty. William clicked his fingers and a man holding a fiddle jumped onto the slightly raised platform. Music flooded the room, the men turning their backs on us. They talked and laughed, eating their fill.
“Lady Madelaine,” William said, “is too…. beautiful.” He said finally.
“Indeed?” I asked, “I hope the lord finds favour in her.”
“Too poised, too clever, too demure. She knows the minds of men, how to act, how to speak.” He argued.
“Have you never met a noble lady before?” I asked, amused, “you’ll find they have had training.”
He made a small, annoyed sound, eyeing me. “How much is the cost of intel?” He asked.
“My life.” I shrugged, “I am loyal to her through it all.”
“Even to that end? Surely you answer to a higher master?”
I grinned, “clever Will trying to get it out of me.”
“What of a blood pact?” he asked.
“That’s a serious solution,” I answered, surprised, “you want to know that badly?” A blood pact between two Aseavielians’ stated that, should one disclose the agreed upon information to another they would bleed to death. The other’s blood would eat at them until they bled from all crevices. Magical blood sure didn’t pull any punches when it came to loyalty.
He nodded, eyeing me. “I have a Saol vow to Lord Westfield.”
My cup hovered near my mouth, watching him. A saol vow. The kind that binds you to another person, whatever harm falls upon the master it will be reaped upon them. A servant’s vow. A blood pact would insure he would not use the information to harm me, or those I nominated. Vows were held to such a degree in this mana infested world that lives hung in the balance. A blood vow would allow me to tell him more without breaking loyalty to the Elwood house.
“You linked your life to him?” I asked, putting my cup down, “that’s insanity!”
“We have been through much together,” he shrugged, “it is not so surprising. He is my master.”
I remembered my own vow, being so young I had not fully understood it. Did not understand how my life was weighted by her safety. Every breath was in service to the Elwoods.
“Meet me at dusk by the forest at the end of the city.” William said, standing, “we have much to gain from each other I think.”
I watched him go, his men in tow.
“And much to lose.” I muttered. ____________________________________________________________________________________________________________________152Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡ5bXZrn7DJq
152Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡ9fmHsWa74B
Madelaine.152Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡ0a2puKzeoR
“Marry me.” Westfield breathed, gazing at me.
I smiled down at him, curling a hand around his cheek, “I am.”
He was on his knees by my chair, like a child. “No, you are marrying Lord Westfield. Marry me.”
“Both of these people are you.” I replied, giggling, “two parts of a whole. Stop looking at them as separate. I will marry you for both parts, not one.”
“Will you tell me something?” He asked now, a deep furrow deepening on his forehead. We had been in his study all day, reading, laughing, and enjoying each other. I had never had the chance to explore a man’s soul as much before. He bathed in my presence, watching me with jealous eyes. It elated and worried me that his perception of me was so.
“Of course.” I replied, “but I cannot promise to answer.”
He gave me a wry smile, resting his head on my lap. I instantly felt his vulnerability, his life completely in my hands. Was this how Hamish had felt when I cried in his arms? That sense of complete power over me in that moment?
“Captain Hamish,” Justin said, as though his mind could peer into mine, “are you in love with him?”
He pulled himself from my lap, looking up at me. “Is that why you cannot give me your heart?”
I looked at him, stilling my face as I wondered how to answer.
He stared back, a strained amusement coating his voice, “Madelaine, when you still your face like that you look like a doll. Like your mind is ticking behind a blank clock face.”
“I’m considering how to answer you.”
“A simple yes or no would suffice.”
I shook my head, “no. It wouldn’t. My silence would perhaps say a thousand wrong things. While a no would be a lie.”
Hurt flashed across his face, the moment reminding me of Sarah’s warning long ago. I pushed the chair back, coming to sit on the rug before him. My dress sighed as it fell around me, his piercing blue eyes never leaving my face. I had no easy answer to give him.
“I have been raised to use love as a bargaining chip. A tool. A weakness best left to commoners with less to lose. I have no experience with love. Enjoyment in another? Yes. Trust and loyalty? Yes.”
“But Hamish loves you.” Westfield said softly, “he is afflicted with it as much as I.”
“Even now, you speak of it as a sickness!” I cried, frustrated, “and I the cause!”
He smiled softly, taking my hands, “and yet, love elates us. Our beings wish for a chance to touch that that gives us warmth. It is no wonder love is spoken of in such flowery language. It is the phenomena that ends kingdoms, and when it cools, leaves blood in its’ wake.”
“You make me fear it!” I replied, considering, “and yet touch it – if only to learn the churning of my own heart.”
“Do you love him?” He asked again, “for if you do Madelaine – send him away.”
I frowned, “He would never do anything to harm me.”
He smiled crookedly; his gaze filled with affection. “No. But your presence both warms and burns his very soul.”
ns 15.158.61.20da2
