“It is a very nice shirt, so I suggest you abandon the theatrics then, Sir Lachlan.” She gave him another stern look. He pouted.
“I live for theatrics. If I was better at it, I’d be on the stage. As it is, I am just gorgeous. Not talented. And apparently you need a sliver of the latter if the former is to be of any help.”
Pru rolled her eyes at his antics.
“Are you fishing for compliments, kind sir? Because it is unbecoming of the honorable knight you portray yourself to be.”
“Portray myself? I am all earnest honesty and unbridled…” He paused, clearly looking for a word. When nothing came, he looked at Pru hopefully. She shrugged.
“The only unbridled anything I can come up with is lust, and since you have disclosed your passionate preference for other knights, I might as well tell you that it is mostly maidens for me. Hence, I am of no help.”
His brow furrowed, and he pursed his lips.
“Oh, but you are. Forget unbridled. Since we are clearly not destined to share a passionate affair that would change the course of history?—”
“The only type of affair to share, if you ask me.” Pru nodded along with this ridiculous tale getting more entertaining by the minute.
“Indeed, and are you engaged in any such affair at the moment, fair maiden? Or has someone broken your heart? Then as an honorable and distinguished knight, and while my queen is otherwise occupied, I shall defend your honor.”
Pru’s palm warmed a bit at the mention of Rhiannon, and she wondered if Ceridwen had gone over to the Atelier. Since she couldn’t hear any screaming and hurling of heavy objects, she assumed all was clear on that front. As for the answer Lachlan was patiently waiting for…
“There is no other fair maiden, Sir Lachlan. There was once, for seven years. But that ended.”
His face sobered, all traces of joking around erased, leaving behind an earnest expression of concern. He reached out for her hand, stopped just shy of touching her, and lifted his eyes to hers. She smiled at the seeking of consent. He was a rare man indeed. Pru laid her own hand on his forearm instead and they sat in silence for a moment before he murmured, “I’m sorry. Seven years is a long time.”
“Don’t be. It was for the best. She wasn’t very good for me.”
He straightened immediately. Pru could tell where his thoughts went, but she didn’t have it in herself to add anything else. And what would she say? That she should’ve left a long time ago? That she had known better and still stayed? That she saw all the signs and chose to ignore them?
And so, she said nothing and patted his forearm. He leaned closer again.
“I came because something happened with Rhiannon just now, and I wanted to make sure you’re okay, Pru. And because I can use a friend. Seeing you and talking to you, I think you can use one too. I’m not the prying kind…” He trailed off and she just looked at him before he lifted his hands in defeat. “Fine, I am the prying kind. But it’s all in the spirit of love. I’m just next door during the day, should you need anything, and especially if the seven years that put that look on your face come calling again.”
The bell on the front door rang, this time signaling the arrival of a rather large group of tourists, and Pru squeezed his forearm. He booped her nose and made her laugh, whistling as he walked out the store, leaving a drove of men and women enthralled behind him.
Pru had to shake her head. The neighbors were ridiculous. And ridiculously attractive and both of them knew it and seemingly got what they wanted. Lachlan was already halfway to being her best friend.
Now if only Pru could get what she wanted for once. Some answers from Her Majesty Rhiannon would be an amazing place to start.
7
RHIANNON, CRISIS OF CONSCIENCE & LIES
CEMENTING NEIGHBORHOOD RELATIONS OR REIGNITING OLD FEUDS?
Are the Crowharts and Fowlers at it again? Rhiannon Crowhart and Prudence Fowler were observed deep in conversation at the Book Nest. Are the neighboring business owners getting along, or will the age-old conflict of the clans be resurrected? With Mayor Fowler running for office again and the Crowharts a force to be reckoned with on the Nest’s Chamber of Commerce and Town’s Council, is his daughter courting the vote of the influential family? Or is Rhiannon Crowhart up to her old troublemaking ways?
Watch this space.
—Crow’s Caw
“I suggest you go see her.”
Lachlan took a swing from a plastic bottle and attempted throw it into the empty bucket in the middle of the almost finished front room. The place was really coming together, evenif Rhiannon, who looked on in disgust as he missed the target by an entire foot, had to say so herself.
The dark wooden panels and the heavy drapes accenting the floor-to-ceiling back windows gave the place an inviting and mysterious vibe. A lair, one where either a villain or a hero could live, both equally seductive.
She wanted to take more pride in her work. After all, every single detail, from the floorplan to the number of windows, was her touch, her attention, her choice, and her impeccable taste.
