“In Paris, the ladies of the court content themselves with embroidery, pastries, and gossip. It was stifling and suffocating. I am so glad to return to the sea.” Gabrielle inhaled deeply, her eyes closed, savoring the tangy brine of the crisp, salty air.
The brisk September breeze blew a long red lock across her blissful face.
Bastien barely resisted the urge to brush it away from her soft cheek. He swallowed and spoke instead. “Our horses are ready. A royal escort awaits, to aid me in defending you as we gallop across the moor. I thought you might like to ride out to the ledge where we used to practice. Perhaps watch the ocean.” He smiled softly as his eyes met hers, the green depths as enticing as her alluring velvet gown.
He lowered his gaze deferentially—a respectful, dutiful knight. Yet, fiery blood raced in his raging, rebellious veins.
“I would love that, Bastien. It’s perfect. I’d like to resume my riding lessons. And weaponry training. After four years in Paris, I am completely out of practice. I want to regain my ease in the saddle. And skill with the sword. May we begin today?”
He had not expected that she’d want to practice with weapons today. With a curt nod and a brisk command to two nearby stable hands, he quickly obtained a sheath and a sword. “Of course, Your Majesty. Let me help you with the strap.” As he secured the belt at her waist, a jolt of desire shot through him as he gripped the curve of her hips.
He abruptly turned away and adjusted his clothing, hoping that she had not noticed his body’s ardent response.
“Thank you, Bastien. Will you please give me a boost into the saddle?”
“With pleasure, my princess.” Nodding humbly, he placed her booted foot in the stirrup, wrapped his hands around her small waist, another surge rushing through him as he hoisted her high into the air.
Bastien watched with unabashed longing as she tucked the voluminous folds of her gown between her lean, lithe legs. He gulped, tamping down his yearning.
And adjusted his breeches again.
Excitement and anticipation blazed in her glorious green eyes as she looked expectantly at him.
Pulse racing, limbs shaking, desire throttling, Bastien climbed into the saddle. Swallowing forcefully, he shook his head like a stallion. And led Gabrielle, galloping across the heathered moors.
Back to the remarkable realm of their enchanted childhood.
Chapter 3
A Trinity of Mothers
The crisp green notes of pine and rowan mingled with the sweet fragrance of chamomile as Viviane harvested the yellow and white blossoms amid an early morning symphony of chirps, whistles, and trills. Thealouettesongbirds serenaded the Lady of the Lake as she carried the basket of aromatic herbs through the dense forest back to her castle, situated at the confluence of four languid lakes whose shimmering surfaces glimmered with dappled sunlight.
Le Château de Comper. The glistening castle whose pristine white limestone walls sparkled like pure, radiant crystal.
Hence the name—theCrystal Castle.
Where her son Lancelot would be coming home for the upcoming holiday season. To play the role ofPère Noël. And make a little boy’s greatest Yuletide wish come true.
Viviane sighed with expectant delight.It will be a most wondrous winter solstice in the glorious Crystal Castle.
Her solicitous valet Jacques graciously opened the ornately carved wooden door to greet la châtelaineas Viviane entered the welcoming foyer. Rays of brilliant color, cast from a stained-glass transom window above the entrance, reflected off the crystals in the central chandelier onto the beeswax-scented, gleaming pinewood floors. Embroidered floral tapestries adorned the ivory plastered walls above a marble-topped table displaying a fragrant bouquet of white meadowsweet, wild angelica, and soft purple mallow flowers.
With a grateful nod to Jacques, Viviane strolled down the wide hall into the bright kitchen nook where she always prepared fresh herbs. Laying her basket upon the wooden countertop, she peered out the open window to gaze at the limpid depths ofle Lac de Diane.The beautiful lake named for the huntress Diana, Goddess of the wilderness and the moon. Viviane smiled softly as she caressed the beloved necklace at the base of her throat. Moonstone. Diana’s gem. And Viviane’s sacred stone.
“I’ve prepared oat cakes with cinnamon and honey, and atarte aux mirabelleswith the last batch of our wild sweet plums. Gaston will be delighted.” Sophie, Viviane’s cook—who was also a talentedpâtissière—beamed with pride as she displayed an appetizing assortment of creative confections, her merry eyes twinkling with glee.
Viviane kissed the floured, wrinkled cheek. “You, my dearest Sophie, are an absolute marvel. What would I ever do without you?”
Sophie chuckled, disappearing into the adjacent welcoming solar where Viviane would soon receive her invited guests. Amid the cheerful clatter of silverware and the clinking of glasses, Viviane returned to the chamomile blossoms to prepare atisane.As she steeped the flowers in steaming water to make an exquisite herbal tea, the pounding of hooves and snorting of horses announced the arrival of her expected visitors.
Sir Esclados le Ros and his auburn-haired wife Laudine, the Lord and Lady of theChâteau de Landuc, with an entourage of a dozen armored knights, squires, and a young page of about ten years old, dismounted with hearty grins as Viviane strolled up to the edge of the forest to greet them.
“Welcome, it is wonderful to see you both! Please, come in. Sophie has outdone herself once again.” Viviane kissed each of Laudine’s cheeks withla biseof greeting as Esclados directed the knights, squires, and horses toward the awaiting grooms and adjacent manor house where they would be lodging throughout the upcoming holiday season.
His gleaming white smile offset by the deep bronze tint of his burnished skin, Esclados—nicknamed the Red Knight due to his distinctive red surcoat emblazoned with the heraldry of a golden eagle—bowed gallantly as he kissed her hand. “Viviane, you are as lovely as always. Thank you for the invitation. We bring news from King Guillemin of Finistère and look forward to your generous hospitality. And Sophie’s renowned culinary delights.” He chuckled heartily and introduced the young page, who approached at his gesture.
“I’d like you to meet Quentin,” Esclados said affably. “An exceptional groom from my stables whom I’ve brought today to meet Gaston. Have Ghislaine and Gaspard arrived yet?”
