“Well, I havenae spoken to her much beyond tellin' her that she has nay reason to worry about it,” Leo said. “But I also havenae spoken to her since yesterday.”
“Ye’re nae concerned about her parents’ threats?”
Leo wrapped the wet cloth around his neck, letting the cold water trickle down his shoulders and back in rivulets. The castle was frigid as always, but he had spent the day riding and training and fighting in thick gear, so he relished the chill in the air and the cool water streaming down his torso. He stood bare-chested in the drafty room and soaked in it the way other people did freshly drawn baths.
“Nay. Anyone who sends threats on parchment doesnae concern me,” he answered. “I’m more concerned with the ones who send threats with weapons.”
He wrung out the cloth and headed out into the corridor, still naked down to the waist. Beatrice hadn’t been far from his thoughts for the past few days, but he had also made a point not to go hunting for her.
I willnae trip over meself for a lass, nay matter how bonnie she is.
But there were several moments where he thought he saw her across the courtyard or could have sworn he heard her voice behind him, and each time his pulse sped up, and he felt a pulse between his legs that embarrassed him to no end.
When he had been a younger man and had had no control of himself, getting hard was a fact of nature he used to try to hide. As a leader others turned to, it was the last thing he wanted to deal with.
The lass doesnae ken what she’s doing to me.
Having grabbed a shirt from the laundry, he now went from room to room in search of Effie. She was doing much better, but was still quick to grow weak and tired. He had assumed she’d be back to her normal self by then. It was impossible for him not to imagine the worst happening.
A jangle of female voices drifted out of the parlor by the Great Hall. Leo recognized Effie’s crystalline laugh right away, then waited as the adult voice spoke again.
Beatrice.
They were in there together, the two of them, sitting knee to knee by the hearth and close to the window, where Beatrice was holding something up to examine it in the sunlight.
“Does it nae look like a spider web to ye?” she was asking Effie as Leo drew closer to the doorway, keeping close to the wall so they wouldn’t see him.
Effie let out another crystalline laugh. “A spider web? Nay, it looks too pretty to be a spider web.”
“Spider webs are quite bonnie, Effie. Ye’ve never seen one with little raindrops on it? It looks just like this.”
Beatrice was holding a cut of delicate white lace, and Effie was leaning in so close to examine it that she was practically sitting in Beatrice’s lap.
Me God, she doesnae look ill anymore.
Beatrice began to tug at a section of the lace, then tied it to another piece, stringing the whole thing together in a gorgeous, intricate design. Effie’s eyes followed every move. Leo could tell she was dying to replicate this magic if she could remember how.
“Do ye think I can learn to make lace as bonnie as ye do, Bea?” Effie asked.
Beatrice answered with a spritely laugh and bent over to kiss the girl on the crown of her head. “I’m hardly makin’ it any bonnier than it was. Ye can learn to do it better, I’d imagine.”
Effie crawled even closer to her and began chattering in her childlike way about topics no adult truly had an interest in. She spoke to her about fairies and trickster creatures she found hiding in the garden, and secret rooms hidden in the walls of the castle where these beings did their magic. After each story, Beatrice told her how wonderful it all sounded, and how much fun it must be to grow up around these enigmas.
Tender sadness bloomed in the pit of Leo’s stomach. Watching the two of them together felt familiar yet bittersweet.
If only Effie could have the mother she deserved. But to find a woman who could actually be that is nay small task. Nay, it’s an impossible task.
Shaking off the creeping thought that it might not be an impossible task after all, Leo stepped away from the doorway, not wanting to alert either of them to his presence.
The sound of their voices chirping together trailed him, stepping on his heels and sinking deep into his mind, the entire way back to his study.
“The weddin’ has to happen soon, aye?” Violet asked. She sat across from him at the table in the Great Hall, half-sunk into her chair like a man. “The elders gave ye a month."
“Ye shouldnae sit that way, Violet. It isnae ladylike.”
Violet barked out a harsh laugh and adjusted her posture so that she was sitting very straight, then folded her hands in front of her. “Better?”
“Aye,” Leo muttered, narrowing his eyes at her. “Now ye only look like a man rather than sittin’ like one.”
