FOREVER KNIGHTS: #16 To Keep Her

Browning Village, Isle of Wight

LUCIEN

Lucien had assented to let Meralee cross the Isle with him. To greet our guests.

He told her to ready herself. And unlocked the door so she could emerge when she had.

She’d made it most of the way to the stable.

But as a rock crunched underfoot, he saw her stop and stiffen. Though she didn’t turn.

“I knew you’d never let me roam without monitoring my movements.”

“Going to see your mare?” He queried. Stopping a few feet behind her and talking to her back.

“I wanted some time with her before we left.”

“What do you think of Browning so far?”

“It’s quite lovely. It’d be pleasant to be part of. Far from the rudeness and quick pace of LandingTown.”

“You were somewhat an outcast.” Lucien recognized. Though she was always invited to the galas due to her name and the popularity of her brothers, her wild escapades and flagrant disregard for society had made her someone far from the usual social gatherings.

“Many gentleman have objected to the sharp edge of my tongue and my bluntness which they construe as ‘rudeness’.” She rolled her eyes disgustedly. “Yet you seem amused.”

“I rather enjoy a woman saying precisely what she thinks. Leaves little to guessing.” He shrugged.

She’s right.

“Which is why it was so easy to annoy you with sweetness.”

Back on the Ezra.

“I knew you did it apurpose to aggravate me.” He charged.

“Certainly.”

“It bored me to tears.”

“I’d guessed so.” He could sense her smirk.

“My brothers would have loved to see me thus. They pleaded for me to be for years.” There was heart ache in her voice.

She misses them.

Drake and Noran Carter. He recalled.

“You’ll not be snubbed here.” Lucien chuckled. “You’ll soon be the queen of Browning.”

“Really? Why?”

“Because you’ve aligned yourself with me.”

“That’s not precisely the way of it.” She said darkly.

Not liking the sound of that. It amused him to know.

“It’s how they see it.” He said dismissively. Rotating on his heel, he headed back toward his room in the Lion’s Head. “Hurry your visit. We’ll soon be heading into Whitwood.”

Mera murmured greeting to Nina.

The horse whinnied in response. Shaking her mane as she neared the stall door to be closer to Meralee, nuzzling her hand in greeting. The animal’s beautiful white coat sparkled beneath fingers of sunlight creeping in to shine on dust flakes which moved on an imaginary current.

Mera was being watched. Hearing a rustle in the corner, she looked around.

A man stepping into the stable drew her eyes. “Michaelmus.”

“I tried to warn you, back at the Wanted Man’s Tavern.”

She cocked her head at him.

His face blurred in and out. Moving when he did not.

She squinted at him, attempting to focus her gaze.

“My Lady.” He whispered urgently. Gaze darting before landing on the gold necklace hanging around her neck. His eyes brightening upon the trinket. “Where is your Fogdragon this day?”

“He’ll be back soon. What is it you want, Michaelmus?”

“I came to remind you of the danger you’re in by allowing yourself to remain with him. You’re far too sweet to be exposed to his evil.”

He appeared sincere.

“Have you been with him yet?” Old Michaelmus on impulse.

She was aghast at the question. “How is that any of your affair?” She demanded.

“Don’t le’ him buy ye wit’ such baubles! If ye tell me where ta find his treasures, I’ll help ye escape.”

She gave him her back.

Michaelmus followed her.

She fled into the sanctum of the Lion’s Head. She pulled a shutter but only saw a boy outside. Mera stared out a long while, but never saw Michaelmus again.

At length, a younger man exited the stable.

She blew out a heavy breath. Leaving the window she was met by the innkeeper with a tray of tantalizing meat.

“Would you like some roast duck this morn, Mum?”

“Thank you.” She plucked a piece. “Why so kind?”

“You’re royalty in Browning Mum. Mate of the Fogdragon. In all the generations my family has lived on the Isle, he’s never taken one afore.”

“Thanks.” Mera said sarcastically. Grabbing a leg of meat and putting it on a scrap of cloth from the tray before heading upstairs. Glaring at the innkeeper virulently.

Tonight, found Meralee reading his journal while she sat next to the fire. Waiting for the bit of driter meat Lucien turned on a spit, to cook through.

“It’s very strange having you read it whilst you sit next to me. You keep giving me the oddest glances.”

“It’s intriguing being in your mind.”

“Well that’s delightful to hear.” He said dryly.

“Forever Knights and Fogdragons…”

“That is me.” He sighed as he pulled a bit of meat apart.

Still far too pink inside.

“You are rather fascinating.” She murmured.

“I’ll take that as a compliment from you.”

She nodded. Still reading.