“Oh, my love, how I’ve missed you,” he says in heavy breaths.
“From just this morning?” I question, but now unwrapping a truth that was hidden from me before. Seeing Ry as someone completely different.Something. Hickory, I think, trying to piece the last puzzle part together.
“Since before either of us knew.” His sure remark places a permanent stitch in my heart. And any silly disillusionment of what my visions played out dissipates.
We fall in an exhausted heap of limbs onto the floor. And that’s when I know his touch has woven into the very fiber of me, like trees growing too close—entwined, tangled, beautiful. Dangerous, even as one could so easily choke out the other. But that won’t happen to us.
FLASHBACK
SCOTLAND 1416
It started with a rip in my apron. A rip that led me to make an unexpected trip into town to spend my wages on an unnecessary expense: thread, a needle, and extra fabric in case it tore again. Getting into town is mostly done on foot if you are of lower status, such as myself, which proves to be a two-day journey. So, you have to hope the weather is in your favor.
I work for the lord of a castle that sits just behind the English border in Scotland. Although poor, I have more than many. So, I find myself in no position to complain.
The first day of travel is near perfect weather, but that doesn’t last. As my luck has it, the next day changes into a torrential downpour. Rain comes out of nowhere, so I take cover under a large hickory tree to wait it out. While I sit there, I collect some of its nuts that have fallen to the ground, knowing I will need more nourishment on the rest of my journey that may turn longer due to the given circumstances.
A lone thistle plant sits in the nook of a protruding root of this old hickory, and I can’t help but examine its purple flower. The petals themselves are a drastic contrast to the rest. Thistle is bountiful here, and mostly used by the locals to ward off evil around one’s home.
My mother thought otherwise. She warned me of the so-called devil’s plant that lured one in with its bright purple bud, only to pierce your skin if you got too close. She said that if itdidhappen to make you bleed, the devil would have ownership over your soul.
My mother was full of these tales, handed down through centuries of tradition and religion. I didn’t believe in such things, but I didn’t let her know. To appease her, I told her I would never touch one.
My mother wasn’t here now though, and curiosity does always have a way of getting the best of me, especially within the boredom of the monsoon coming down everywhere except my protected canopy. I carefully go to stroke one of the thorny leaves and am poked almost instantly. Sharp little buggers.
A drop of blood falls down my finger, and I wipe it away on the grass at the base of the tree. It barely hurts, and the clouds didn’t darken over me, which I’ll take as a good sign. Just as I suspected, my mother’s tales were a bunch of rubbish.
I wait under the tree for what seems like half the day when finally, a carriage comes by. It stops before me, a hand reaching out its window to wave me over. With my bonnet tight around my face, I make my way over to the carriage and the mysterious hand that beckoned me.
The door opens as an invitation. I step inside, thankful to get out of the rain. You can never not heed someone of higher ranking, so it wasn’t much of a question of what my next steps would be when invited into such a blessed opportunity like this.
Once I wipe the rain from my lashes, I glance up to show my good graces to the person extending their kindness to me, but I am left without words. Before me is the most bonnie lad with dark brown hair. Two faint scars mark his forehead, but they don’t distract from his beauty in the least. He doesn’t look much older than me, so I can not believe my luck.
I finally get my words about me, and thank the man who reaches his hand out to me. This is an unexpected action, because a man of his status would never acknowledge a lowly servant girl like me. But Ioblige, and the moment I do, I never look back as he places a soft kiss against my knuckles.
“What is your name, sir?” I fumble out. It is the only thing I can think to ask.
“Carya, although some call me Hickory. You, my little succulent, can call me Ry.” You would think his nickname referring to my name would make me uneasy, but it does the opposite. It feels undeniably natural. The only unnerving part about it is how he knows my name to make a nickname of it? Maybe it is merely a coincidence.
“My name is Jade.” I announce, even though he shows no signs of asking.
“I know,” is all he says after. I should be unsettled, but that reaction doesn’t reach me. Instead, I stare unapologetically the entire way to town. Quiet and unassuming in our study of each other. A reciprocation I feel in every part of my being.
I do not know many in town apart from the shop owners I visit when I come here every other month for supplies. However, it seems as if all eyes are on me today. Or maybe not me, but focusing on the man who takes my hand, directing me through town as if he were my own personal escort.
I stop into the seamstress shop and grab what I need, while the gentleman waits outside for me. Why he waits for me I cannot fathom, but I am not about to object to his forward attention. That is until I hear the whispers of the women in the shop. Something about the Englishman.
English. His accent. I should’ve known. I didn’t even think to ask what he is doing here, but I see now the crest he wears. The crest that shows his loyalty to King Henry.
My lord would fire me immediately if he found out I was conversing with an Englishman. I decide to let him know we will have to part ways when I leave the shop. I look at him directly as people passing by still look at us in disgust, so I bring himinto an alley.
“I greatly appreciate your gesture towards me, but I must be on my own now.” I say in the most respectable manner I can muster up.
“Is that so?” he smirks. Oh, those lips. I blush at my meddlesome thought. My gaze trails to his neck, mostly hidden beneath his coat. Strange markings just barely showing under his buttoned collar.
“It wouldn’t be because of the crest I bear on my jacket, would it? Oh, Jade, I thought you would be a little more rebellious this time around, not care about what a few townspeople thought.” He looks disappointed and seems to mock me. And this time around? What could he mean by that?
“Well, I’m afraid my job is at stake here, and the good name of my family, so I must bid you farewell.” I say and go to leave. Having already gotten what I need in town, I am about to find a place to stay for the night before my journey back to the castle. But before I can leave, I am pulled back into the alley.
