“You’ve all but kidnaped me, I think you can leave off the honourific, my lord,” she said wearily. Her legs ached from the unaccustomed effort of riding a horse. Looking down at her hands, she went on, “I understand too well what drives your action — is it not the same as what brought me to my decision? I can’t hate that. After all,” her voice fell to a near whisper, “have you not done the same as Sir Kit, but from a purer motive? I would have been reft from them anyway.”
“Only if you return the favour,” he stated pointedly, arching an eyebrow to add to the effect before pushing back a wayward curl as it flopped over to twist across his forehead. “I can’t watch anyone I care about die, not again. Too many have…” He trailed off then and shook his head, before he stiffened and whirled to face her. “I am nothing like him! I’m trying to save your life, not end it!”
“Do not shout at me!” she snapped back. “Weren’t you listening?” Summer gritted her teeth and clenched her hands into fists. “He was going to rape me, not kill me. Fine, you have no designs on my virtue, for which I suppose I owe you my thanks, but you have taken me away from my family just as he would have.”
She reached out and put her hands on his shoulders, sliding down from the horse. Standing there, that close to him, she couldn’t hate him. “No,” she said softly. “No, I do not hate you.” Her legs trembled, and she sank to the ground. “I’m not sure how I feel.”
Sir Isaac’s eyes widened slightly and he felt silent, the slight breeze continuing to ruffle through his curled locks as he simply stared at her. Deciding not to wear his helmet so as not to cause her more discomfort, he slid down off of Buttons some time later, but took a step back to allow her as much room as he could. “You should hate me. I’m a stranger who just took you away from the only family that you have left. But I…I couldn’t leave you there, Miss Summer. It’s hard to explain…but I can’t just watch any more people die. I can’t stand by and be helpless and afraid, especially not now. So I’m doing everything I can to honour the promise I made your little brother, and I hope that in time, you might decide to forgive me.”
“You’ve all but kidnaped me, I think you can leave off the honourific, my lord,” she said wearily. Her legs ached from the unaccustomed effort of riding a horse. Looking down at her hands, she went on, “I understand too well what drives your action — is it not the same as what brought me to my decision? I can’t hate that. After all,” her voice fell to a near whisper, “have you not done the same as Sir Kit, but from a purer motive? I would have been reft from them anyway.”
“Yes, sir,” the boy said solemnly. The two siblings looked at each other, and Summer gave a short, sharp nod, which Laurence returned. Then she resolutely turned her face forward, holding on to the saddlehorn.
Squeezing her hand only briefly, he murmured lowly to Buttons before setting off, trotting near silently through the forests as they headed towards the Hale lands. After quite some time, he sighed despondently and brought the horse to a stop, needing to stretch his legs. “Do you hate me, Miss Summer?”
She reached out and put her hands on his shoulders, sliding down from the horse. Standing there, that close to him, she couldn’t hate him. “No,” she said softly. “No, I do not hate you.” Her legs trembled, and she sank to the ground. “I’m not sure how I feel.”
Summer knelt, holding out her arms, and several of the children crowded forward to hug her, patting her hair and face. She closed her eyes, tears sliding down her face. “Be good,” she whispered. Laurence, who seemed to be a leader of the small band, coaxed the children away from her, and they stood in a cluster.
She stood up, brushing off her skirts, and turned to Sir Isaac. “Quickly. Please.” She kept her eyes down.
Sir Isaac watched the scene before him with a sad little smile, wishing that he could have that, but he quickly shook the thoughts away, repeatedly reminding himself that he had a job to carry out. He hated the fact that she was crying though, but it had to be done. Despite the fact that they’d only just met, he felt connected to her, to the point where he couldn’t leave her here.
He nodded and scooped her up to sit on the saddle, before clambering up behind her. “Laurence…should you ever need me, send word to the Hales, alright? I will ride through the night to get here if I have to.”
“Yes, sir,” the boy said solemnly. The two siblings looked at each other, and Summer gave a short, sharp nod, which Laurence returned. Then she resolutely turned her face forward, holding on to the saddlehorn.
She was reduced to spluttering in frustration, because he /was/ wearing armour (which was poking her in uncomfortable ways), and a trained warrior, neither of which was true for her. She had no hope of getting away from him. Colour ran up in her cheeks as a traitorous thought whispered, ‘you don’t want to get away from him.’
“I will not attempt to escape, my lord,” she said stiffly. “You must do as you like.”
“If you’re truly against this, then please let me know. I’m nothing like Sir Kit…in fact, the very thought of being compared to him sickens me.” He grimaced and somewhat reluctantly lowered her to the ground, exhaling a deep sigh. “Now go and say goodbye to the children and I’ll pack your belongings in the saddlebag. We leave in five minutes if you’re coming with me.”
Summer knelt, holding out her arms, and several of the children crowded forward to hug her, patting her hair and face. She closed her eyes, tears sliding down her face. “Be good,” she whispered. Laurence, who seemed to be a leader of the small band, coaxed the children away from her, and they stood in a cluster.
She stood up, brushing off her skirts, and turned to Sir Isaac. “Quickly. Please.” She kept her eyes down.
Summer glared, although attempting to glare at someone when you were hanging over their shoulder was quite difficult. She kept looking at his rear — which was annoying, because he had a nice rear. And she shouldn’t be thinking about that right now! “You put me down this instant,” she said, belatedly tacking on, “my lord.”
“I’m sure I’ll manage — I am wearing armour after all, Laurence.” He grinned and then chuckled softly at the expression on Summer’s face, already creating ways to apologise to her later on, should she choose to accept them, of course. “I think not. You’re going to stay here, and then I’m going to take you some place safe.”
She was reduced to spluttering in frustration, because he /was/ wearing armour (which was poking her in uncomfortable ways), and a trained warrior, neither of which was true for her. She had no hope of getting away from him. Colour ran up in her cheeks as a traitorous thought whispered, ‘you don’t want to get away from him.’
“I will not attempt to escape, my lord,” she said stiffly. “You must do as you like.”
“Wh—no!” Summer yelped when he tossed her over his shoulder, breath knocked out of her. “No, what are you doing? Put me down!”
Laurence, his grin wide and mischievous, darted off into one of the cottages, a few moments later emerging with a bundle of clothing a little else. He handed it up to Sir Isaac, saying solemnly, “I’ll tell everyone.”
“Laurence!” she gasped.
“Don’t worry. I put your comb and spoon, and I remembered to put your necklace.” The boy nodded very seriously, the smile falling away.
“It is my duty as a Knight to protect those in need, Miss Summer, and I apologise — but to me, you seem like you are in need,” he stated, not sounding at all sorry as he wrapped his arms around her legs.
Smirking knowingly at the boy, he nodded and bowed as best he could with the protesting girl upon his shoulders, before he allowed them a tender moment. Nevertheless, he refused to put her down for fear she should run away.
Summer glared, although attempting to glare at someone when you were hanging over their shoulder was quite difficult. She kept looking at his rear — which was annoying, because he had a nice rear. And she shouldn’t be thinking about that right now! “You put me down this instant,” she said, belatedly tacking on, “my lord.”
“Why, nothing.” She lifted her face from her hands to gaze at him in shock. Did he truly not understand? “I stay in the village because I am commanded to, not because the children need me to.”
“Well, that solves it then,” he stated shortly and strode forwards, taking a moment to slide his sword into the saddlebag attached to Button’s side. As he approached Summer, he scooped her up and threw her over his shoulder, before settling her down on the horse. “Laurence? Would you be so good as to gather up your sister’s belongings while I ensure that she doesn’t escape?”
“Wh—no!” Summer yelped when he tossed her over his shoulder, breath knocked out of her. “No, what are you doing? Put me down!”
Laurence, his grin wide and mischievous, darted off into one of the cottages, a few moments later emerging with a bundle of clothing a little else. He handed it up to Sir Isaac, saying solemnly, “I’ll tell everyone.”
“Laurence!” she gasped.
“Don’t worry. I put your comb and spoon, and I remembered to put your necklace.” The boy nodded very seriously, the smile falling away.
Summer buried her face in her hands, overwhelmed by conflicting emotions. “I spoke out of place, my lord. I am sorry.” She wished he would just go, stop tempting her with the prospect of escape. Stop tempting her, period. She had never felt this way about anyone before — certainly not the pestiferous and loathsome Sir Kit.
“Don’t call me that!” he whispered fiercely in obvious agitation and turned away, sighing as he gazed up at the heavens for help. And then, the idea filled in his mind and refused to budge, and he wondered if she’d hate him for it, or if she could forgive him in time. “What happens to the children if you’re not around, Summer?”
“Why, nothing.” She lifted her face from her hands to gaze at him in shock. Did he truly not understand? “I stay in the village because I am commanded to, not because the children need me to.”
His words were so outrageous, she simply stared at him for a long moment, before turning away. Her voice was wretched as she replied, “I have no other choice. I don’t live in your world, where everyone can be protected, happy — I was not meant for happiness. Please, please go, my lord. I beg you.”
Sir Isaac suddenly snorted in indignation and shook his head, eyes darkening just a little bit. “You’re wrong if you think that — my entire family is gone, and a lot of my people too over the years. I know all too well from experience just how much unhappiness and trauma the world can offer…I apologise for attempting to offer you some.” He stood up then and gazed down at her, chewing on his bottom lip. “Are you really sure about this, Summer?”
Summer buried her face in her hands, overwhelmed by conflicting emotions. “I spoke out of place, my lord. I am sorry.” She wished he would just go, stop tempting her with the prospect of escape. Stop tempting her, period. She had never felt this way about anyone before — certainly not the pestiferous and loathsome Sir Kit.