The Ro'meave Sister [MCD Fanfic] ✔︎

XIV

Desperate for something to do later that day, I assigned myself on patrol. It wasn't as rewarding as I'd thought it would be. Just a simple walk around the gates earned us many hateful stares from civilians. I knew that I had to expect it—being the head of the occupants around here.

Jasper's Vis Stone weighed heavily in my pocket, and my heart had been hurting ever since his call.

After the patrol, I sat alone in the guesthouse, trying to keep my mind occupied by baking. I've never been much of a cook or anything food-related, so the cookies I was attempting to conjure up smelled slightly charred, but naturally, I left them in the oven, being an idiot.

I heard a knock on the door, just as my bag of flour, provided for me in the house, tumbled to the ground. "Come in."

It was Matthew. "Good afternoon, Lady Cassie." His eyes fall to the spilled flour. "Is there something I can help with?"

My face flusters. "Um, if you don't have anything better to do. I going to try my hand at baking." I give a laugh. "I'm not much of a baker. Never really have been."

Matthew grins. "Neither have I." He grabs a paper towel on the counter and drops to floor, cleaning up the flour.

I do the same, and soon, the floor is ninety percent flour-free.

"Thanks for your help," I say.

"No problem," Matthew says. "Always happy to help you, m'lady."

"Thanks."

"Looks like you still got cookies in the oven. Do you need any help with that?"

"Oh my Irene." I rub my forehead. "They're probably burnt to a crisp."

"You never know." Matthew runs his fingers through his hair. "So, are you going to pull them out or what?"

"Oh! Yes." I slide an oven mitt onto my hand and open the oven. It lets out all the steam trapped inside of it, making us both go into a coughing fit.

"Mother of Irene!" Matthew coughs. "I'll open the doors, Lady Cassie."

"No!" I say, and go into another fit of coughing. "The civilians will think I'm trying to burn their guesthouse down! They already don't trust me."

Matthew fans the air heavily, covering his mouth. "Okay," he says, his voice muffled.

"Let's go up to the balcony," I say.

"Don't have to tell me twice."

The afternoon sun sits high in the sky, and a light breeze tosses a few of the fallen leaves around the village down below.

Matthew clears his throat, as an attempt to break the awkwardness. "Um... so..."

I glance away. "Yeah..."

"Those cookies," he says with a grin.

I giggle. "Don't start. And don't hold that over my head."

Matthew shrugs. "Whatever you say, m'lady."
««»»
The guesthouse still isn't fully cleared out by late afternoon, but I've decided to occupy myself with another walk around the gates for some fresh air.

I'm just around the back of the gates when I hear it—a chorus of ear-splitting screams. I rush to the scene, the entrance to Falconclaw.

"Bandit attack!" I hear someone yell.

My guards are pushing civilians back, but they don't need to try that hard—most of them are running into their homes anyway.

I push through to the front of the crowd next to Aaron, only to see he has his hand back, to keep his guards from getting closer.