Lavenders Blue ❦

*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟChapter Four; Visitor

Everything Lance thought was okay could actually go very wrong, but it could also go right again just as fast.

Lance was in the stables, giving some tender loving care to the new horse. Her jet black coat gleamed with the shine of a fresh groom as she ate with Blue, though they were separated by stalls. 'This horse lives a better life than I do', Lance thinks, but then again, a majority of his animals almost always have. He sighs, and had finally began to feel peace again when the distant back door to the basement gave way to a kick. "Lance!"

Lance scurries out of the stall, meeting James in the middle of the barnyard. His brother is panting, blushing and looking right at him.

"Is everything okay?" Lance asks, "Do you need some water-"

"Shhhh, Mother wants you take make some biscuits or - or something! There's a man at the door, he said that he works at the castle. He looks rich, and he wants to meet our family! Mother is practically ringing wedding bells already!" James explains. "We need to impress him in case he isn't married!"

Lance already feels so terribly sorry for this visitor.

Yet, without surprise, he feels like staying away from this unfavorable situation. Watching his step-mother and brothers drool over an innocent man and most likely guilt him into coming back to this hellhole? No human deserves to see that, and seeing the permanent victim would be especially nightmarish. It would be like watching a pack of hungry lions chase down an innocent gazelle - horrifically graphic and completely undesirable.

"Alright, you can go back upstairs meet him. I'll make something to fill him up while he's here. Tell step-mother that while this man is at our estate, he'll be sure to have something to eat."

James nods, and without another word, he darts towards the back door from whence he came. Lance, left by the stable, sighs. He looks over to see the horses nuzzle their heads against each other one last time before he goes back to work.

He should probably rinse all of this flour off of himself, but there's no time. This man is going to want to leave as quickly as possible, and he'd like to catch him, (apologize to him), and at least meet the guy before he runs out through the front doors and never returns.

With no time to spare, Lance settles on a special tea recipe his mother used to make him and a batch of flatbread cookies. The treats are his go-to when there's no sweets to add to his concoctions, since chocolate seems to vanish out of thin air in his pantry. He's fully aware that the mice aren't the ones nibbling on all of his ingredients, unless mice grew to the height of 6' 2" and wore overpriced leather shoes.

Lance let the dough sit in the warm oven where the cookies would turn crisp on the edges and chewy in the center (the way everyone liked them). Meanwhile, he boiled a kettle and added the spices needed to make his mother's 'evening blues remedy'.

Every night before dinner, when young Lance proclaimed he was too tired to go to his room and change, his mother could say the mere word 'tea' and he'd leap for the spicy mint taste. Once a week his parents talked to important people in the big living room over expensive snacks, which he had to dress up for and hated deeply. Dressing up used to be Lance McClain's least favorite luxury. However, he wishes nowadays that he could go to events that he should dress up for. One could say he misses it.

Despite Lance not liking the feel of ruffled cuffs and pocket squares, his Mother would mix up a spicy tea and send him on his way after it was over if he could stick it out. The replica recipe isn't perfect, but it's endearingly close, and still enough to make his drool hit the floor when someone brings it up. Though, no one he knows ever has since his Papa died.