Part 11

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Andrew held on firmly to my hand with his, which was a bit clammy. He looked a little green again, and I wondered what had made him suddenly so out of sorts? Was he truly feeling unwell? Why was he staring so intensely, making no sense, and what was this about his Nana?

Then my stomach went into my chest as the most handsome man I had ever seen went down on one knee before me. "(Y/N) (Y/L/N), I implore you, in the name of God, to accept my proposal of marriage, for I swear to you that it is true: I will never be content again if you refuse me your hand."

I did the only reasonable thing I could to save my dignity: I yanked my hand out of Andrew's and slapped him across the face as hard as I could. "You think that's funny?!? You think that's a grand joke to be made? You're a bastard, Biersack!"

I turned to run, but that wretched, pompous churl tackled me to the cushions! "No! (Y/N)-" I had had enough, so I kneed Andrew in his family jewels, absolutely furious! He made a noise like I imagined a miniature bear might make if it was very sad as he rolled in a ball, yet still he grabbed a handful of the hem of my dress, and held on resolutely! I was able to stand, but I was tethered in place!

"Let me go you rapscallion! I thought you had some manner of character, yet you mock me to my core you..." I trailed off a bit as Andrew repeatedly rasped at me and tugged insistently at the edge of my dress. Though I was still angry, it was so pitiful a sight; I wondered why he didn't just let go? I had to squat to hear what he was saying.

"Mah-hr mee... (Y/N)... Mah-hr mee..." Andrew was clutching at his wounded personals with one hand, my skirt with the other, and staring at me intently. God, his eyes were a more beautiful blue than any sky I had ever seen!

I blinked, forcing myself to focus. "What?"

Andrew cringed, before forcing out with a bit of a croak. "Please... don't hit me!"

I frowned. "I won't tolerate you taunting-"

Andrew cut me off, but stayed in his protective fetal position. "-I was being serious! I did it just like you said you wanted, and you bloody hit me! I've taken blows to both my face and my privates, and you still don't believe me! I don't know what to do to win you over; you're impossible! Please, what did I do wrong? I thought... it seemed to me that you liked our kiss too?"

I sat back down on the cushions and stared at Andrew. My face itched from the cheese, but the napkins were out of reach. What could Andrew possibly be getting at if he wasn't being cruel? "I don't understand."

Andrew groaned in frustration from the floor. "Isn't it obvious? I want you to marry me, (Y/N)!" He tugged, looking dejected, on my skirt. "Now I've ruined everything."

Andrew looked up at me with the most despairing expression I had ever seen on a man. "I'll give you Hecate, (Y/N)! She's my finest Drum mare, and any foal she has, a filly or colt, it's yours as well!" My eyebrows shot upwards in shock!

Andrew sat up a bit and nodded, as if agreeing with me. "Of course, of course, if Hecate's pregnant, you'll want a stallion to ride, what was I thinking?!? Or do you prefer geldings? Perhaps one of both? More of each? Maybe a different breed? I can do that, I'm a modern man..."

My mouth fell open as Andrew babbled on to himself, talking to the ground, where he still held my skirt, now in both hands. "...I wonder if you'd like your own stables, your own staff..." He looked concerned abruptly. "You, you were fond of Porkchop! He has been my closest friend for years. Is, is that what it would take for you to marry me?" Andrew's voice got surprisingly small and frightened-sounding. "Do you... Must I give you my Porkchop?"

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