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It was a cool, crisp September morning in the gardens of Agusty Castle. Dewdrops sparkled upon late-season roses. Morning mist lingered in the air. Naoise and Lachesis sat opposite each other at a white iron tea table, both engrossed in the treats that laid before them.
Naoise picked up one of the many cookies on the tray. It was round, with a divot in the middle filled with pinkish-red jam. He took a bite. The buttery base crumbled against his tongue, only to be met by the tart, ever-so-slightly floral notes of the jam. Raspberry and rose, most likely. The perfect compliment to the black tea they were having.
“These taste wonderful,” he said. “Did you make them yourself?”
“Of course I made these myself,” Lachesis said, a slight tinge of annoyance in her voice. “Every noblewoman worth her salt knows how to bake.”
“I do not know if Lady Deirdre does.” Naoise bit his lip. Oh gods, why had he said it like that? He’d meant it as a counterargument, but it sounded like an insult instead.
Lachesis smiled. She held her teacup with a dainty grip. “Lady Deirdre is a special exception.”
Naoise nodded. Lady Deirdre tried her best when it came to traditional noble duties. But having grown up in the woods, most of her attempts resulted in rather rustic-looking results. Naoise did not mind. None of the knights of Chalphy did. Lord Sigurd found her charming, and that was all that mattered.
(Lady Deirdre’s wildberry hand pies did, however, taste quite delicious. No one could ever argue with that.)
It just happened the woman Naoise found the most charming sat in front of him at that very moment. He’d been very surprised by Lachesis’s invitation to tea. Certainly there were more proper people to invite than him. He was a simple cavalryman. She was a future duchess, for the gods sake. But he had jumped at the chance to join her. After all, he may never get one again.
“Do you bake often?” He asked. “Or is it only reserved for tea?”
“Mostly for tea, but I will do it otherwise every now and then.” She took a sip. “It’s good to practice so I do not forget the recipe. Though I am not a fan of getting my hands covered in dough. ”
Naoise had no choice of practicing his cooking. He was the only knight of Chalphy who knew how. Every now and then they’d tried swapping in Alec or Arden, only for disaster to occur each time. Even Sigurd had volunteered once. Naoise tried to make it as easy as possible for him— he cut up the meat and vegetables and put them on to simmer. All Sigurd had to do was stir the pot every few minutes. What he did not realize was he had to reach deep down when doing so. The bottom burnt to a crisp.
Lachesis placed her teacup down and laced her fingers together. “So, Naoise… there’s something I’ve brought you here to discuss.”
Naoise’s ears turned red. Perhaps she’d noticed his longing glances. If that were the case, then she must reciprocate them. Otherwise she likely would have beaten him senseless. He’d seen for himself what she did to Elliot.
“A little birdie told me you’ve been reading around the castle,” she said. “You’ve engrossed yourself in a new novel and are having a hard time putting it down.”
Ah, Naoise thought. She’s noticed my literary habits. But where was she going with this?
“Said book has a red-leather cover with golden embossed details and a red ribbon as a place marker. It just happens I am missing a book with that exact same description.”
The aftertaste of the rose-petal jam went sour on Naoise’s tongue. His smile faded. Oh gods, that was her book?
Lachesis’s smile was tinged with poison— or perhaps Naoise was imagining such things. She picked her teacup up and took a sip. “If by any chance you suspect that book may be mine, will you be a dear and return it, please?”
Bile rose in Naoise’s throat. He swallowed it back down. “My deepest apologies. I found that book in one of the parlors and assumed it must be Lady Ethlyn’s. She lets me borrow hers, you see, and…”
“I was right!” Lachesis put a hand to her mouth and giggled. “I will say, I did not take you as one to be interested in romance.”
Naoise lowered his head. “It is a guilty pleasure of mine. I know it is unbefitting of a knight, but please do not think of me as—“
“Nonsense!” Lachesis gently slammed down her teacup. “Every true knight should study such literature. The men in those books are the epitome of chivalry!”
Oh, how wonderful, Naoise thought. She saw things the same way… when it came to books. That was a start, at the very least. “I’m glad you agree.”
“Now, you did seem to be enjoying yourself. I have finished said book numerous times, so I will let you keep it until you are done.”
Naoise’s smile returned. A generous move on Lady Lachesis’s part. “Thank you.”
“But,” she continued, “I do have one condition.”
Ah, there it was. The dreaded “but”. Naoise should have expected nothing less.
“When you have finished, you must give this book directly to me alongside a report of everything you liked and disliked about it.”
Oh, Naoise thought. That was not bad at all. “Oral or written?”
Lachesis raised an eyebrow. “What?”
“The report,” Naoise said. “Do you want me to give it orally or write it down for you to read later?”
“Hmm…” Lachesis tilt her head. “Either is fine. But I would not mind spending the extra time with you.”
Naoise’s heart jumped. “You wouldn’t?”
“Of course not,” she said. “You have a nice voice. I would love to hear it more often.”
If it were possible for Naoise to melt, he would have done so then and there.