the Tale of Sir Isaac

lycanthropelahey:

iamthefirechild:

“Please don’t give him ideas,” Summer pleaded. “Serfs cannot become knights.” She looked down at their hands, linked together by Laurence’s determination, and the colour in her cheeks spread to her throat. “He hasn’t learned how cruel the world can be,” she murmured. “Or that sometimes, one must do what is best for someone despite their protestations.”

“He could if I put in a good word for him, surely? We need people like him — strong and valiant, putting others’ safety and well-being before his own…” Sir Isaac smiled tenderly at the boy, before seeming to finally notice that they were holding hands, a slight blush staining across his cheeks. “Maybe we should try and keep him innocent for as long as possible, then? Perhaps we should not let him see his sister die due to her own stubborn nature and a grudge from Sir Stumpy.”

A startled laugh escaped Summer before she smothered it. “Where are you from, that serfs can rise to become knights and whole villages be moved for the safety of one person?” She tried to withdraw her hand from his. “If I give myself to Sir Kit, no one else will be hurt. He has promised me that. Please, my lord, you must understand.”

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