Fall Into You

2

He takes your hand, I die a little

Nicollette stood at the little makeshift stand she'd made, handing out bread to those in need. Freshly made by her and her mother all morning before her mother needed to tend to duties, leaving her to finish it all by herself. It was something she did once a week - handed out homemade bread. She handed out quite a bit to the town every week, bread was handed out on Sundays while she handed out other items during the week. It was something she looked forward to each day, her heart warming at the sight of children excited to finally get good homemade food in their bellies.

"It's surprising your mother supports this," Charles said as he handed her the next chest holding bread, taking the one she'd just emptied. "Or your father in the least."

"They care, even if they don't show it," Nicollette responded as she smiled at the older woman standing in front of her, handing her a bottle of water as well.

"How did you manage to get enough bread to make?" Charles asked, watching her in admiration as she spoke kindly to the less fortunate approaching.

Nicollette treated every one of them as if they were royalty themselves, and some would even admit she treated them better than that. There's only been one or two people she's ever treated with disrespect, and she could never give an explanation as to why. She just did, but to everyone else, she showed an abundance of kindness and respect that certainly changed things.

"After doing this as long as I have, you learn how much you need." She honestly spoke, "Sometimes I make more than needed, to give extra for days I can't make it out here." 

"Does your mom ever come out here?" Charles questioned.

Nicollette paused, her smile falling only slightly. It was enough for Charles to notice, but she quickly recovered. Putting on a fake smile she handed out the last basket of bread, sighing to herself as everyone who'd been in line had finally gotten their bread and was on their merry way.

"No," She finally answered, wiping the palms of her hands on her dress. "It's always the same excuses. I think it's because she knows seeing this will affect how she feels, she doesn't want to feel the way I do."

Charles didn't say anything, not knowing what to say. Nicollette looked down at her shoes, staring at each speck of dirt lying on the tops.

"Any more pity bread for me?" Nicollette's head snapped over to see who'd spoken to them, rolling her eyes instantly.

Ryker Olivander - Duke of Sandria - stood on the other side. He had a smug smirk on his face just as he usually did whenever he spoke to anyone below him.

"Sorry, we're out." She spat, beginning to clean up her mess.

Charles moved from his previous spot, cleaning up as well. He avoided eye contact with Ryker, as he usually did. Ryker was a known asshole, only respecting those who were the same class as him or up - considering he was only a Duke.

"Hmm. What a shame," Ryker hummed, glancing around. "Nice little setup you got here, huh?"

"Your point?" Nicollette raised a brow, leaning forward on the little wooden table.

Ryker didn't say anything, but instead kicked his foot out. It was hard enough to knock the table over, Nicollette almost flying along with it.

Charles was quick to catch the girl, stopping her before she fell onto the wood. His arm grabbed her roughly, not but rough enough to hurt her. One hand held her arm while the other rested behind her back, keeping her balanced.