Page 1 of A Rogue and a Noble Lass

1

Two decades ago…

“Calm yerself, Logan. There, see, naething bad is happening,” Abigail cooed softly.

Logan blinked and opened his eyes. His breathing was heavy. Sweat pooled at the base of his neck and upon his temples. His throat was raw from the frantic, helpless cries.

“I dreamt of Ma again,” he said.

His voice was a brittle, forlorn thing. Abigail sidled along the bed, getting closer to him. She smiled and ran a hand along his neck and shoulder. She didn’t seem to mind the clamminess of his skin. Her hair framed her face and the candlelit glow brought light to her cheeks.

“Ye are always dreaming of her. I ken it’s hard, but ye need tae let her gae.”

Abigail had barely finished uttering these words when Logan wrapped his yearning arms around her and squeezed tightly, clinging to her like the gnarled vines clung to the castle’s walls. He buried his face in her rough dress and closed his eyes, trying to hold the sobs back.

“Dinnae leave me,” Logan whimpered.

“Just remember that nae matter what happens we are family,” Abigail said as she reached for his hand.

She pressed their palms together and then slid her fingers between his. As they laced together she brought her fingers down, squeezing his palm tightly. Logan mirrored her movements. He started to breathe a little more easily.

“Let me read ye a story,” Abigail added.

Logan gulped and rested his head against her shoulder. She picked up a book she’d brought with her, a tattered, dog-eared story that had been read time and time again.

The story was a simple one. A dragon attacked a village and carried a princess away. A noble knight volunteered for the dread mission of rescuing her.

“Ye are gaeing tae be like him one day,” Abigail said, raising the book to the candlelight.

The knight was standing over the slain dragon, its black wings draped on the ground, its tail coiled like a whip. The knight’s armor gleamed and his sword was raised triumphantly. Abigail pointed to him.

“Ye are capable of great things, Logan. Just remember tae listen tae yer heart. Dae the right thing. Slay the dragons of this world.”

She smiled and squeezed him.

Logan stared at the pages. He wasn’t sure he could live up to her lofty expectations. He wondered if he had more in common with the dragon.

“Logan, I want ye tae promise me something,” Abigail continued.

“What?” Logan asked, still staring at the pictures.

“I want ye tae promise that ye will always remember who ye truly are, even if we are separated.”

“Why would we be separated?” Logan twisted his head and stared at her, his eyes heavy with bewilderment.

Abigail pressed her lips together and took a heavy breath. “There is something we must discuss. I should hae done this sooner, but I was scared. We are running out of time.”

Logan felt an uncomfortable itch at the back of his neck. His breaths became shallow and he realized that something was wrong. He angled his body towards Abigail, his eyes filled with questions. They were interrupted by a stern knock on the door. It swung open before either of them offered an invitation.

“Yer Da wants tae see ye,” the stone-faced guard said, directing his words to Abigail.

Logan stirred, but Abigail placed both hands on his shoulders, directing him to remain on the bed.

“Stay here and rest, Logan. We shall talk more in the morning. I dinnae mean tae worry ye.” She kissed him on the forehead. “I love ye.”

She held her head high as she exited the room, but Logan felt the tension shift. Being summoned by their father was never a good thing.

The door swung closed, but Logan wasn’t content to remain. He slithered off the bed. The book dropped to the floor, the pages falling shut. He glanced towards it and glimpsed the image of the dragon breathing fire over the village before the book closed.