Noble Affairs

3. The Eve

Lillian glances from vendors to the surrounding crowd of people. Now 21 years old, she navigates the market without a parental figure. A chaperone would be necessary if she were a high-class lady. But as the daughter of farmers, she has more pressing matters at hand than leaving the house without a chaperone. Lillian inspects various fruits and vegetables before passing to the next stall with her arm looped through her personal basket's handle. It's filled with groceries including pitiful-sized carrots and bruised apples.

Lillian's figure looks starved, but there's still taut muscle under her skin- earned by years of cultivating the land and raising stubborn children.

As the oldest of nine, Lillian has mastered the art of swiftness. She skillfully dodges any youngling bolting in her direction, a chicken flying in her face, and a pushcart in her path. Just as she makes it to a break in the flock of people, she rams straight into a man's chest.

On impact, Lillian drops the basket. She immediately sinks to the ground, picking up spilled items. The man mirrors her actions without a word.

"My apologies!" Lillian hastily exclaims as she throws her groceries haphazardly into the basket—the urge to run sinks deep into her chest.

"No need, the fault lies entirely with me." The man composedly responds. He gawks at a particularly moldy cabbage that rolls out of the basket. Lillian takes this opportunity to catch a glimpse of this stranger's face.

Never has she seen eyes as blue or skin so beautifully sun-kissed. Hard, manual labor has never heard of this man before. He flashes his canines at me with a polite smile. Unfortunately, she is still in the 'recompose' stage after bumping into a stranger - a blank expression plastered onto her face. She promptly scoops the rest of the fallen produce into her basket

"May I inquire for your name, Miss?" The man keeps intense eye contact with the top of her head. It feels as if warm rays heat up her scalp under his gaze. Lillian chooses to focus on a carrot on the ground instead of him- maybe it will encourage him to leave. She dusts off the produce and removes her hood.

Lillian abruptly stands with her basket in hand. The man follows. "Lillian Dulcira! And you are?" She mindlessly extends the carrot for a handshake. The man takes the vegetable, flips her hand, and connects his lips to her knuckles in one swift motion.

"Mikhail Beaumont, my lady."

Lillian snatches the carrot and pulls her hand to her chest, "It-it is a pleasure to make your acquaintance, Mikhail." She stutters, unfamiliar with this form of interaction. Though she has had an interest in those of the opposite sex- she never had the chance to interact with any of them on a social level, let alone let a man kiss the back of her hand. The feeling of running away is indescribable. It feels as if an ancient, formidable power is yanking at her nerves. Lillian shakes the pulsing feeling away and draws it up to tension from this stiff and unusual interaction.

Lillian offers a small curtsy with a tug of the rag she lovingly refers to as a cloak.

"The pleasure is all mine, Lady Lillian. I had the privilege to speak to the stable keeper," he points with his thumb over his shoulder. She peers to find Mr. Capall watching from a distance, "and he told me not only to thank you for the biscuits but that you would also make a wonderful guide."

"Mr. Capall said that, did he?" Lillian provides Mr. Capall with a small wave. Like Joseph, he's always watching Lillian like a hawk whenever the opportunity presents itself. 

Lillian initially met Mr. Capall when she was seven years old. Lillian can only recollect the day in segments, one moment Helena is reading a letter, and then the next she is hurriedly packing all she can. Together, they rode day and night from Itasa to Odella. Joseph arrived almost two years later.