I mentally prepared myself to get up, then grasped the head of my cane tightly, grunting with effort as I rose. My knees trembled violently. I hadn't realized how badly I’d taxed my body today. It proved to be too much. I collapsed, sinking back down on the edge of the fountain and breathing hard. Sweat trickled down my forehead.
A wave of dread hit me. I was alone here in the courtyard. Pascal wasn't around to help like he usually was when I had difficulty moving. What was I going to do if I was stuck here? Certainly the guards wouldn't take kindly to a poor orphan lingering on the grounds after dark.
I focused on breathing. If I calmed down and gathered the last dregs of my strength, I could probably make it home.
Time passed like molasses as I rode out the discomfort seizing my body. Finally, I knew I couldn't sit there any longer. I blew out a long, steady breath, then hauled myself to my aching feet. My legs trembled but I refused to sit back down. I leaned my weight on my cane and inched away from the fountain, back towards the iron gate.
It was darker now. The last rays of sunlight were gone and the dark blue sky was full of stars. I hadn't even left the castle grounds yet. I sighed, thinking about how late it would be when I finally got home.
The foot of my cane snagged a rough edge in the cobblestones. With a sudden cry, I stumbled and lurched forward.
I knew with instant, familiar panic that I was going to fall. I braced myself for the pain that would come, adding to the pile of it that was already racking my body.
But I didn't hit the ground.
Seconds before my face was supposed to smash against the stones, rapid footsteps pounded behind me. Then a strong pair of hands grasped my shoulders and lifted me up.
I was so startled I could only try to catch my breath. I didn't see the person behind me, but I knew it had to be a guard or someone similar, ready to evict me from the premises. My heart twisted with anxiety. I was already having trouble walking—if he forcibly tossed me out, it would be agony on my body.
But that didn't happen either. The hands grasping me relaxed, as if they somehow knew to be gentle, but didn't let me go.
"Are you all right?" a pleasant, deep voice asked.
The kindness in the man's voice wasn't what I expected. When I thought of castle guards, I thought of stoic brutes with no regard for lowly people like me.
Breathlessly, I replied, "Yes, I—"
My words died when I turned around to face the man who'd saved me. He wasn't a guard at all. At least, I didn't think he was. His clothes were too strange to be the uniform of a guard. He was a tall man with skin as pale as the moon, and he was dressed in all black robes. Curiously, he wore a strip of black across his face that hid his eyes from view.
And the sight of him took my breath away in a manner that had nothing to do with my exhaustion.
6
Devereaux
When he appeared,I could only watch. Wait. Listen. Every reaction was out of my reach. I could not smile, or frown, or laugh, or cry. The only thing my cursed body could do was nothing at all.
He appeared like an angel in the twilight. His hair was a dark shade of flax, like a wheat field in the golden hour. Those brown eyes were full of warmth and depth. When he raised his weary face and looked right at me, I could have died happy. Something struck me at that moment, shooting right into the core of my being, revitalizing my soul in a way I did not think possible.
This young man was special. But I did not yet know how.
So, I listened with great focus as he sat tiredly on the fountain's edge and told his tale.
"I'm a long way from home," he said, with that tired but sweet smile.
My heart twisted hearing those first words. His voice was as sweet as his eyes and his smile. I was immediately captivated by this stranger. I wanted to know more about him. I wanted him to speak forever, and I would listen with bated breath to his every word.
He told his story—and what a sad one it was! He was an orphan about to be evicted from his only home.
"And as you can see, Mr. Gargoyle—"
My heart skipped a beat. He was not speaking into the air, or to the fountain, or to himself. He was speaking to me. People did not speak to me, but he was different. Special. I knew that as well as any other fact.
"—I have a bit of a disadvantage when it comes to finding work."
Then I saw the cane. I had been so enamored by his voice and expression that his cane went unnoticed in my eyes.
Now I understood the severity of his scenario. He was being forced to meet our cruel society's relentless demands.
