“I’m sorry,” he said as if he’d said it so many times already that they should leave him be.
“You shouldn’t have been throwing rocks in the first place,” Adam disciplined. “What even possessed you to do so?”
Diana had only heard a bit of what had occurred yesterday, something about her brother throwing rocks and one struck a female guest at the castle causing her harm.
It was one thing to throw rocks because, well, he was a boy. It was quite another to do so around people. Adam should blister his bottom for having done so. Afterall, Adam was the closest thing Edward had to a father since theirs had died when Edward was only a year old.
“I was aiming at the pixies.”
“Pixies!” Cordelia slammed her hands down on the table, pushing herself up and out of her seat. “Have you lost your mind? Do you know what trouble they can cause for us? Oh, I’d like to box your ears.”
Then she glared at Adam for having failed as an older brother.
“He’s to be punished,” Adam ground out.
“I’llsee that he is,” Cordelia announced then narrowed her eyes on Edward. “As soon as we are finished here, you are going to march right out to the gardens and begin cleaning out weeds and debris. Then this evening you will go out there and play your flute for their enjoyment, all the while apologizing for your childish behavior.”
Edward’s eyes widened and he looked to Adam for help.
Their older brother shrugged. “It seems perfectly reasonable to me.”
“What of gifts?” Adriana asked.
“Yes, gifts should be given as well,” Cordelia agreed.
“What kind of gift do you give a pixie?” Edward asked in confusion. “They are just little things, all bothersome and such.”
Cordelia glared at him. “They arenotbothersome, but can be quite mischievous if angered, Edward Vail. Youwilldeliver gifts.”
“I’ve bits of lace and ribbon left over from the dress I’ve been sewing,” Adriana offered. “I’ll see that they are given to Edward for him to leave in the garden.”
All of this was well and good, but it still didn’t free Diana from having to accompany Miranda into Bocka Morrow. Unless… “I can see that Edward cleans the garden if you wish to go to Pennick’s Book Shop.”
Cordelia frowned. “I thank you, but I need to make certain Edward does as he’s told, with my supervision, or who knows what havoc the pixies may cause.”
Diana’s encounters with pixies had been few. In fact, until yesterday, when they helped Sirs Orwen and Gilbert hide the path, she’d not had dealings with them since she was a child. And, given what they’d done, she wasn’t all that anxious to help her younger brother apologize. The pixies should be apologizing to her for leaving her vulnerable.
Miranda grinned at Diana and stood. “Shall we?”
As their breakfast was concluded, there wasn’t any further argument she could make and thus Diana found herself making the trek into Bocka Morrow. Thankfully Miranda had suggested the shorter path to the village. It may take them through Keyvnor land, but Diana was unlikely to encounter Somerton.
Unfortunately, no sooner had she stepped onto Keyvnor land than those blasted knights were back.
“We have news,” Sir Orwen announced.
“It’s urgent that we speak. Love hangs by a delicate thread. If you do not act, the mate of your heart might be lost to you forever,” Sir Gilbert insisted in his overly dramatic manner.
Had Diana been alone, she would have told them to go away, not that it ever did any good to do so.
“There is no insurmountable situation that can’t be overcome, and I urge you not to be led by emotions.”
Diana narrowed her eyes on Sir Gilbert. Oh, she’d love to give him a tongue lashing. Led by emotions indeed! How dare he make such a suggestion. Yes, her emotions were engaged, but so was her mind and she knew what was best forher. Not two ghosts who have been haunting these lands for centuries.
“Your heart aches for him as his does for you,” Sir Gilbert insisted. “They are meant to beat as one. Hearts and souls united. A passion to surpass all others. Desire that others can only dream of. A future to behold, bathed in gold and hope. A life of—.”
“—Bugger it,” Sir Orwen barked. “This is a serious matter, not an epic love poem.”
“Their loveisepic.”
