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Don’t let my brother work you too hard, Amelie smiled as she wrote, do you like it?

“I dae. I want tae make people proud of me, especially my uncle. I want tae keep this clan safe and make sure that the dark times dinnae return.”

I pray for the same thing.

“Then we are both fighting, in our own way,” Evan said, and Amelie felt valued. It filled her heart with glee to think that they were fighting together for the same cause, just in different ways, and her cheeks began to glow. Evan punctuated his words by taking a finger and scooping up the last remnants of plum sauce on his plate. The sauce was like blood on his finger, albeit a hundred times sweeter. He brought his finger to his mouth and sucked on the tip, making a soft murmuring sound as his sensual lips took away the sauce. His tongue darted out after this, wet and glistening, wiping away the dark stain that momentarily lingered on his lips. It was such an ordinary gesture that, if performed by anyone else, would not have made any impact upon Amelie at all. However, when performed by him it was transformed into this heated movement that conjured all kinds of wild, unnamed sensations within. It was tender and intimate, and she could feel her insides melting, becoming as liquid as the sauce itself.

Amelie breathed deeply and pressed her legs and arms tightly together, trying to compose herself as she had no idea what was coming over her. Evan was a most unusual man who had the unerring ability to elicit strong reactions from her, and she had no idea how she was supposed to combat them. It would be much better once she left and was away from this place, away from him.

“I dae love plum sauce,” he said.

It’s my favorite too.

He wore a delighted smile. “I wonder what else we have in common?” he asked, raising an eyebrow, which again made a ripple pass through her stomach. Amelie’s heart lurched towards hope, tempted to believe there was a chance for her to find out all these things and more, to run through glades and nestle with him under the shelter of a tree and do all the romantic things that she had longed to be blessed with.

It was a good fantasy, but only a fantasy. She knew it was fine to allow her mind to run free, but she could not allow it to get out of control.

It will not be speaking.

Evan laughed. “I admit I hae never hae a conversation like this before, but it is quite pleasant. I dare say I may even prefer it. While I’m waiting for ye tae respond I hae a chance tae think about what I’m saying. I hae been known in the past tae speak without thinking, sae this allows me tae avoid trouble,” he leaned in and lowered his voice as he said this, hinting at exciting events that Amelie longed to know about, and perhaps even be a part of. Could her life have used a bit of trouble? Fleur would have thought so, but Amelie would never have been able to conjure such a thing by herself. It needed someone else, some wild spirit to whirl into her life and turn everything asunder. She got the feeling that Evan was exactly that type of man. She was grateful too that he did not make her feel awkward for having to use a slate and chalk, but instead embraced it.

What kind of trouble have you been getting into?

His eyes danced. “I’m nae sure that is an appropriate conversation for the breakfast table,” he lowered his voice to an even deeper level, making it just a whisper, a secret. Her heart fluttered at the thought that she was sharing something special with him, and she found herself leaning towards him, so close that she could smell the scent of plums on his breath. She wanted to know all about him, because she was certain that he would have a life well-lived, one that was rich with experience and tales of folly, as well as heroism. She wanted to be amazed and charmed by his stories, at least before he got bored of her when he realized she had none of her own to share. He would hardly be thrilled when she spoke about tending to the plants at the nunnery or sweeping the dusty floors.

Unfortunately, his stories were going to have to wait. Pascal clamped his hand on Evan’s shoulder to get his attention and then called him away. Their duties could not wait, even though it was the day after the feast. Evan gave Amelie a lingering look and she found herself upset that he was leaving so suddenly. She started to write down a farewell, but he was gone before he could read it, and she lamented that writing was not as swift as speaking.

Her gaze lingered on Evan as he walked out of the chamber, following Pascal.

“Well, Amelie, that was certainly interesting,” Fleur said with a wry smile. Amelie gave her a questioning look. Fleur’s smile widened. “I noticed how ye two were haeing a nice time. It seems as though ye were talking quite intently, and I seem tae recall that he asked ye tae dance last night. He would certainly make a suitable husband, dinnae ye agree?”

The question lingered in the air, but Amelie felt something clamping around her heart. There was no need to try and make things real. She liked indulging the fantasy, but knew that nothing was ever actually going to come of it. Fleur’s insistence only made her feel under pressure, and it took the joy out of Amelie’s light feelings. Amelie scowled and dipped her head, refusing to answer Fleur’s question.