He found the young heiress in the garden, sat by the pond with a book in her lap. The air was warm with springtime and Marcus Lecuyer breathed in the heavy scent of flowers as he approached his charge, regretting that the rattle of his mail disturbed the quiet.
"Lady Emmalie, your father wished to speak to- Is something the matter?"
The frown that graced Emmalie's face as she turned to him was possibly the longest Marcus had ever seen.
"Oh, hello. It's nothing, I just..." She paused to fiddle with a curl of dark hair, "I was thinking... You've served by my side for three years now, and I consider you as close as a brother..." She let her hand drop and her expression turned pitiful. "I... I need your advice."
Pride and duty swelled within him and Marcus straightened, one hand planting decisively onto the hilt of the sword at his hip. "Of course, my lady. What is it?"
Emmalie nodded. She chewed her lip. "The newest squires; there's a red-haired lad among them with a hint of the Brume in his accent. You know the one?"
"Reynaud?" Marcus pulled an image of the boy into his mind. He was loud, overly friendly, and had once been accused of stealing a Sohm Al tart from the kitchens but there had been no hard evidence. "What of him?"
"We ran into each other yesterday by the fountain. I think he was trying to sneak extra rolls back to the other squires," Marcus bristled, though Emmalie didn't notice, "but he didn't count on running into me. He..."
Her frown deepened further and Marcus's mouth twisted itself to match. "Was he disrespectful? He dared speak against-"
"No! Nothing like that, he was actually very kind, and I... I just... Marcus, I think I fancy him!"
Her declaration stretched into a silence that filled Marcus with cold, iron dread. He blinked. "You what?" he managed to squeeze out.
"I'm in love!" The knight's lack of comprehension seemed to stir Emmalie to great passion. "He's just so charming, and funny, and I... I need your advice on how to talk to him. How to get him to return my feelings! You're a man, surely you know what men want from women. What can I offer him?"
The chill spread from the top of his head to the tips of his toes. Marcus suddenly felt he'd rather be fighting a dozen wyverns single-handedly than having this conversation.
"I, uh, don't know that I'm qualified to-"
Emmalie clapped her hands together with such vigor that Marcus jumped. "I know! You're fond of the fig jelly from Jacobus's shop, yes? I'll buy some and give it to him; he'll love it!"
Beaming, the young woman wrapped Marcus in a quick hug before she scurried off. She was out of earshot before he found his voice. Instead, he sighed and picked up the tome she'd left behind. The 10 Pillars of Romance was scrawled in golden ink across the cover.
"Perhaps a sister would've kept Lady Emmalie better company than me..."
"Lady Emmalie, your father wished to speak to- Is something the matter?"
The frown that graced Emmalie's face as she turned to him was possibly the longest Marcus had ever seen.
"Oh, hello. It's nothing, I just..." She paused to fiddle with a curl of dark hair, "I was thinking... You've served by my side for three years now, and I consider you as close as a brother..." She let her hand drop and her expression turned pitiful. "I... I need your advice."
Pride and duty swelled within him and Marcus straightened, one hand planting decisively onto the hilt of the sword at his hip. "Of course, my lady. What is it?"
Emmalie nodded. She chewed her lip. "The newest squires; there's a red-haired lad among them with a hint of the Brume in his accent. You know the one?"
"Reynaud?" Marcus pulled an image of the boy into his mind. He was loud, overly friendly, and had once been accused of stealing a Sohm Al tart from the kitchens but there had been no hard evidence. "What of him?"
"We ran into each other yesterday by the fountain. I think he was trying to sneak extra rolls back to the other squires," Marcus bristled, though Emmalie didn't notice, "but he didn't count on running into me. He..."
Her frown deepened further and Marcus's mouth twisted itself to match. "Was he disrespectful? He dared speak against-"
"No! Nothing like that, he was actually very kind, and I... I just... Marcus, I think I fancy him!"
Her declaration stretched into a silence that filled Marcus with cold, iron dread. He blinked. "You what?" he managed to squeeze out.
"I'm in love!" The knight's lack of comprehension seemed to stir Emmalie to great passion. "He's just so charming, and funny, and I... I need your advice on how to talk to him. How to get him to return my feelings! You're a man, surely you know what men want from women. What can I offer him?"
The chill spread from the top of his head to the tips of his toes. Marcus suddenly felt he'd rather be fighting a dozen wyverns single-handedly than having this conversation.
"I, uh, don't know that I'm qualified to-"
Emmalie clapped her hands together with such vigor that Marcus jumped. "I know! You're fond of the fig jelly from Jacobus's shop, yes? I'll buy some and give it to him; he'll love it!"
Beaming, the young woman wrapped Marcus in a quick hug before she scurried off. She was out of earshot before he found his voice. Instead, he sighed and picked up the tome she'd left behind. The 10 Pillars of Romance was scrawled in golden ink across the cover.
"Perhaps a sister would've kept Lady Emmalie better company than me..."
