Wanted Dead

3

      Sol Valentine was a great lover of women. He loved their wits, their common sense and their caring hearts. He loved their fiery spirits and their fierce willpower in the face of adversity. Women were capable of more things than men lead to believe. Sol's mother taught him this. She taught him to appreciate all women for they held the world together. Sol was no romancer, only an appreciative specter of the arts named women.

However, art was supposed to make you feel something and the little work of art trapped beneath him made him feel good. Oh, she was lovely. Small and compact, tiny curves only noticeable due to her hourglass figure. Small breasts and small hips molded into him and he couldn't help but feel an attraction to her.

"Are you alright?" River asked him softly. He watched her eyes as her gaze fluttered across his skin. They darted to his mouth and then back up to his eyes, a little hint of pink brushing across her cheekbones. Sol felt a little smug. This "proper" lady was definitely thinking some scandalous thoughts about his mouth. He leaned in a little closer.

"Much better," He teased, allowing the hint of a smile to play tricks with her mind.

River sucked in a breath before pushing him away and back into an upright position. She refused to look him in the eye but Sol still wore a grin on his face. He rarely flirted with women let alone bothered with any romantic or suggestive thoughts about them. But what had just happened with River was rather fun. She was the type to get embarrassed easily and Sol was the type to enjoy amusement whenever he was off the clock.

River led him outside and helped him down the steps saying absolutely nothing. They made their way across the yard and Sol could see the rest of the estate. The river extended further than the eye could see and the open grassy field was surrounded by a thick grove of forest. In the far off distance Sol could just make out a garden and a few yards left of him was a little house he presumed to be the stable boys' quarters.

Lea and Autumn were laying a blanket out and River pulled him to it. Lea watched him, her eyes narrowing the closer he got. Autumn's eyes were fixated on him as well but her gaze held the open-ended curiosity of an innocent child.

"Please rest," River gestured to the blanket and Sol lowered himself onto it slowly. Kestrel wandered over and sat on the corner, furthest from him, her wide blue eyes entranced by his person.

Yes, Sol loved women. He loved all their possibilities and their endless capabilities, but women were a hinderance in the life of a dirty assassin. He didn't need the complications of worrying about their safety or their feelings. God forbid a woman ever fall for him. Children were even worse. Sol did not enjoy being around them. They were so sweet and innocent and full of great potential. Their presences ate away at his conscience. He felt guilty when he saw his reflection in their eyes. A cold-blooded killer.

It only made sense that the fates had imprisoned him in a house full of children, all the fairer sex, with nowhere to run. It made him feel anxious. He couldn't stop thinking about Galloway and his postponed mission, his injury, the risk of his identity being discovered. He hated staying in one place for too long and he had a feeling he would be in this household for much longer than a week.

Sol was deeply lost in his thoughts but when he resurfaced he found River teaching Autumn to weave daisy chains. Autumn was clumsy in contrast to her older sister but she learned fast.

"Daisy chains...huh...I haven't seen one of those in years," Sol broke the silence. All eyes were on him.

Sol cleared his throat,"My mother taught me of an old gypsy tradition. If you place flowers around something it signifies good luck, blessings or well wishes."