Post by Chelliet on Jul 31, 2008 12:11:20 GMT -5
Prologue
June 12, 1807
The Raine estate had always been beautiful, but in early summer when the rolling hills were a deep green sea of waving grass and the wildflowers grew like rainbows, it was truly a sight to behold. Huge, ancient trees dotted the landscape everywhere, their arms offering shade and protection and sometimes food to whatever traveler happened to pass them by. A lake spread out grandly in the center of all that well-tended acreage, its water deep and clear but for the lily pads and the lotus flowers that grew at its edges.
Beside the lake, on the shore closest to the sprawling, stone manor, stood an apple tree as old as the land. Its branches reached out at least twenty feet on each side and someone had tied a swing to one of the lower, thicker arms. Its roots sloped upward toward the trunk, exposed and worn smooth from a thousand touches of hands and feet.
A girl sat between two of those roots, her body cradled against the trunk and soft grass like she was a part of the tree instead of a separate being. Only the top of her bowed head was visible from any kind of distance. She sat very still, the breeze only barely playing with the ends of hair the color of deep sunset; copper and flame and the red of autumn in its full glory. That hair didn’t match the stillness or the quiet of the girl as she read a book big enough to nearly dwarf her slender frame. The Quest was barely readable on the old leather spine.
A pair of spectacles sat on her delicate nose, the thin wire frames nearly succeeding in hiding the splatter of freckles across nose and cheeks. But for the freckles, her skin was smooth and unblemished.
The boy that stood against that same tree, his back against the trunk and one leg bent to put his foot against the base of it, was only a few years older than the girl. His sandy hair was overly long and the wind played with it more, pulling it across his face so that every few seconds he had to push it back. It was longer than was fashionable, but too short to stay out of the way. He had the beginnings of a man’s body, lean and slender with the promise of strength, but was still too young for it.
He looked down at the girl with a set of eyes as green as the summer grass, rolling them silently before he sighed loudly. She’d been ignoring him ever since he’d arrived and he didn’t have time to wear her down with silence.
“You’re not supposed to be here,” the girl said casually, turning a page and continuing to read as if she were completely alone.
“That’s ridiculous,” the boy said, pushing off the trunk to sit in the swing, the ropes creaking comfortably under his weight.
“It isn’t. Have you forgotten that my parents forbade me from seeing you?”
“No. That’s the part that’s ridiculous. They’re overacting,” he said matter-of-factly, pulling an apple off the ground and flicking off a bit of grass before biting into it. Apple juice dripped from the fruit to the ground below and he wiped off his chin with his thumb while he chewed.
The girl looked up finally, her eyes a blue so startling they were worth a second look or three. She had the Raine eyes, a ring of navy blue that lightened to sapphire at the pupil. The color alone was noteworthy, but it was the silver flecks in that impossible blue that made them seem just this side of ethereal. She was still only a girl, the whisper of womanhood only barely there, but those eyes promised beauty.
Sighing, she closed the book in her lap and gave him the full force of her attention, her eyes unblinking behind the glasses.
“Could we really have died, Gabriel? That’s what mother says and father didn’t argue her.” The question made him pause and he set the hand that held the apple on his knee as he looked at her.
“The horses weren’t that wild, Rachelle,” he said, taking another bite before offering her the fruit. She took it wordlessly though she gave him a look that told him plainly his answer hadn’t appeased her.
“That’s not a no.”
“It’s not a yes, either. Did you not enjoy it?” The girl smiled and took a bite of apple, chewing it thoughtfully.
“I did enjoy it. It was exhilarating and wonderful. But mother says it was foolhardy and reckless. She says the horses were not tamed in the least and that to ride them invited only injury and death. We both should have known better than to even try.” She passed him back the apple.
“I wager Sir Hughes was livid.”
“He was certainly not pleased. I could hear him yelling all the way from the kitchens.”
The two lapsed into a silence that wasn’t entirely uncomfortable, passing the apple back and forth until nothing but the core was left.
“I would not have let you die,” the boy said quietly, his young face suddenly serious with the weight of his words. His eyes were intense on hers, the green darkening for a moment in the shade of the tree.
“I know,” she said, utterly trusting, smiling and setting her book aside before she stood and offered him her hand. He paused for a heartbeat, looking at her with that too serious expression before he smiled back and stood, taking her hand in his. “Would you like to do it again?” she asked, her question just this side of impish.
He laughed, squeezing her hand and shaking his head.
“No, not today. I have to go,” he said, sounding slightly surprised as if he’d only just remembered he had somewhere to be. He hadn’t wanted to blurt it out like that, but the gentle way to say it wasn’t coming to his lips like he’d hoped.
“Can’t it wait? They’ve kept me shut in my room all day and now that I’ve managed to sneak away from Nana you’re going to leave?” Her hand tightened around his and there was a hint of desperation to her question. She really didn’t want him to go and he immediately drew her against his side, one arm holding her shoulders tight. She let him, resting her cheek on his shoulder. How could he tell her now?
“I would stay if I could, you know that, but I will return, fair maiden. Perhaps with a gift for my lady,” he said, his chin resting in her hair before she moved to look at him again, giggling a little at his words and overly formal tone of voice.
“Then I eagerly await your return, good knight. Would you take a favor to remind you of me?” she asked.
“A favor? What for?” he asked. She smacked him on the shoulder and he rubbed at it, giving her an odd look. “What was that for?”
“A knight should never refuse his lady’s favor,” she told him, adopting a haughty look that was slightly ruined by her spectacles. He rolled his eyes a little, but there was an edge of smile to his mouth and he let go of her long enough to get down on one knee, his right hand settled over his heart.
“Then I humbly beg for thine favor and will vow that only my lady fair shall part me from it upon my return.” She smiled at him again, a soft and content smile, before she stepped away to retrieve the book she’d left at the tree.
The leather cover was old and worn, but it was still sturdy and it was one of her favorite books. She’d read it at least a dozen times or more and the look on his face when she held it out to him was one of surprise. He would never have guessed she’d part with such a thing. In fact, she’d nearly broken his leg once when he tried taking it as a prank.
“I can’t take that,” he blurted out, standing up straight again hastily. The smile she’d worn began to dim a little.
“Why not?”
“You would kill me if I lost it.”
“Then do not lose it,” she said, still holding the book out to him. He blinked and looked down at it, silence stretching between them for a long moment before he finally reached out and took the book. She grinned, her faith in him leaving him speechless.
“Rachelle!!” The girl’s eyes widened at the very adult shout coming from off in the distance and she pushed him back until the tree trunk hid them both.
“I have to go. Don’t let Nana see you or she’ll have palpitations,” she said quickly before darting away to leave. His hand on her wrist stopped her though and she swung her head back to him, surprise making her eyes wide. He looked as if he’d say something for a moment, something serious, but he seemed to think better of it.
“I’ll take care of it,” he said solemnly instead, holding the book against his chest. She nodded once and touched his hand with the tips of her fingers.
“I know. Bring it back to me,” she said with a smile before she slipped out of his grasp and left him alone by the tree at the lake, the afternoon breeze blowing cool against his neck while he waited.
He should have told her like he’d planned.
He should have told her he was leaving and he wasn’t sure when he was coming back. Or even if he was coming back.
June 12, 1807
The Raine estate had always been beautiful, but in early summer when the rolling hills were a deep green sea of waving grass and the wildflowers grew like rainbows, it was truly a sight to behold. Huge, ancient trees dotted the landscape everywhere, their arms offering shade and protection and sometimes food to whatever traveler happened to pass them by. A lake spread out grandly in the center of all that well-tended acreage, its water deep and clear but for the lily pads and the lotus flowers that grew at its edges.
Beside the lake, on the shore closest to the sprawling, stone manor, stood an apple tree as old as the land. Its branches reached out at least twenty feet on each side and someone had tied a swing to one of the lower, thicker arms. Its roots sloped upward toward the trunk, exposed and worn smooth from a thousand touches of hands and feet.
A girl sat between two of those roots, her body cradled against the trunk and soft grass like she was a part of the tree instead of a separate being. Only the top of her bowed head was visible from any kind of distance. She sat very still, the breeze only barely playing with the ends of hair the color of deep sunset; copper and flame and the red of autumn in its full glory. That hair didn’t match the stillness or the quiet of the girl as she read a book big enough to nearly dwarf her slender frame. The Quest was barely readable on the old leather spine.
A pair of spectacles sat on her delicate nose, the thin wire frames nearly succeeding in hiding the splatter of freckles across nose and cheeks. But for the freckles, her skin was smooth and unblemished.
The boy that stood against that same tree, his back against the trunk and one leg bent to put his foot against the base of it, was only a few years older than the girl. His sandy hair was overly long and the wind played with it more, pulling it across his face so that every few seconds he had to push it back. It was longer than was fashionable, but too short to stay out of the way. He had the beginnings of a man’s body, lean and slender with the promise of strength, but was still too young for it.
He looked down at the girl with a set of eyes as green as the summer grass, rolling them silently before he sighed loudly. She’d been ignoring him ever since he’d arrived and he didn’t have time to wear her down with silence.
“You’re not supposed to be here,” the girl said casually, turning a page and continuing to read as if she were completely alone.
“That’s ridiculous,” the boy said, pushing off the trunk to sit in the swing, the ropes creaking comfortably under his weight.
“It isn’t. Have you forgotten that my parents forbade me from seeing you?”
“No. That’s the part that’s ridiculous. They’re overacting,” he said matter-of-factly, pulling an apple off the ground and flicking off a bit of grass before biting into it. Apple juice dripped from the fruit to the ground below and he wiped off his chin with his thumb while he chewed.
The girl looked up finally, her eyes a blue so startling they were worth a second look or three. She had the Raine eyes, a ring of navy blue that lightened to sapphire at the pupil. The color alone was noteworthy, but it was the silver flecks in that impossible blue that made them seem just this side of ethereal. She was still only a girl, the whisper of womanhood only barely there, but those eyes promised beauty.
Sighing, she closed the book in her lap and gave him the full force of her attention, her eyes unblinking behind the glasses.
“Could we really have died, Gabriel? That’s what mother says and father didn’t argue her.” The question made him pause and he set the hand that held the apple on his knee as he looked at her.
“The horses weren’t that wild, Rachelle,” he said, taking another bite before offering her the fruit. She took it wordlessly though she gave him a look that told him plainly his answer hadn’t appeased her.
“That’s not a no.”
“It’s not a yes, either. Did you not enjoy it?” The girl smiled and took a bite of apple, chewing it thoughtfully.
“I did enjoy it. It was exhilarating and wonderful. But mother says it was foolhardy and reckless. She says the horses were not tamed in the least and that to ride them invited only injury and death. We both should have known better than to even try.” She passed him back the apple.
“I wager Sir Hughes was livid.”
“He was certainly not pleased. I could hear him yelling all the way from the kitchens.”
The two lapsed into a silence that wasn’t entirely uncomfortable, passing the apple back and forth until nothing but the core was left.
“I would not have let you die,” the boy said quietly, his young face suddenly serious with the weight of his words. His eyes were intense on hers, the green darkening for a moment in the shade of the tree.
“I know,” she said, utterly trusting, smiling and setting her book aside before she stood and offered him her hand. He paused for a heartbeat, looking at her with that too serious expression before he smiled back and stood, taking her hand in his. “Would you like to do it again?” she asked, her question just this side of impish.
He laughed, squeezing her hand and shaking his head.
“No, not today. I have to go,” he said, sounding slightly surprised as if he’d only just remembered he had somewhere to be. He hadn’t wanted to blurt it out like that, but the gentle way to say it wasn’t coming to his lips like he’d hoped.
“Can’t it wait? They’ve kept me shut in my room all day and now that I’ve managed to sneak away from Nana you’re going to leave?” Her hand tightened around his and there was a hint of desperation to her question. She really didn’t want him to go and he immediately drew her against his side, one arm holding her shoulders tight. She let him, resting her cheek on his shoulder. How could he tell her now?
“I would stay if I could, you know that, but I will return, fair maiden. Perhaps with a gift for my lady,” he said, his chin resting in her hair before she moved to look at him again, giggling a little at his words and overly formal tone of voice.
“Then I eagerly await your return, good knight. Would you take a favor to remind you of me?” she asked.
“A favor? What for?” he asked. She smacked him on the shoulder and he rubbed at it, giving her an odd look. “What was that for?”
“A knight should never refuse his lady’s favor,” she told him, adopting a haughty look that was slightly ruined by her spectacles. He rolled his eyes a little, but there was an edge of smile to his mouth and he let go of her long enough to get down on one knee, his right hand settled over his heart.
“Then I humbly beg for thine favor and will vow that only my lady fair shall part me from it upon my return.” She smiled at him again, a soft and content smile, before she stepped away to retrieve the book she’d left at the tree.
The leather cover was old and worn, but it was still sturdy and it was one of her favorite books. She’d read it at least a dozen times or more and the look on his face when she held it out to him was one of surprise. He would never have guessed she’d part with such a thing. In fact, she’d nearly broken his leg once when he tried taking it as a prank.
“I can’t take that,” he blurted out, standing up straight again hastily. The smile she’d worn began to dim a little.
“Why not?”
“You would kill me if I lost it.”
“Then do not lose it,” she said, still holding the book out to him. He blinked and looked down at it, silence stretching between them for a long moment before he finally reached out and took the book. She grinned, her faith in him leaving him speechless.
“Rachelle!!” The girl’s eyes widened at the very adult shout coming from off in the distance and she pushed him back until the tree trunk hid them both.
“I have to go. Don’t let Nana see you or she’ll have palpitations,” she said quickly before darting away to leave. His hand on her wrist stopped her though and she swung her head back to him, surprise making her eyes wide. He looked as if he’d say something for a moment, something serious, but he seemed to think better of it.
“I’ll take care of it,” he said solemnly instead, holding the book against his chest. She nodded once and touched his hand with the tips of her fingers.
“I know. Bring it back to me,” she said with a smile before she slipped out of his grasp and left him alone by the tree at the lake, the afternoon breeze blowing cool against his neck while he waited.
He should have told her like he’d planned.
He should have told her he was leaving and he wasn’t sure when he was coming back. Or even if he was coming back.