The Nechi's Wife

✣ chapter thirteen ✣

Sir Lorcan's POV

Flynd seemed to have forgiven me and for this, I was incredibly glad. When I paged for him, I'd been worried he wouldn't meet me at all. And I wouldn't have blamed him—not much, at least.

I could tell he still harbored a level of distrust, which was irritating. Flynd could hold a grudge well. He took after his father in that regard, one of the few things they had in common.

It also didn't help that he hadn't seemed to take me seriously when I spoke about her. I'd given him that information in confidence, confidence that he would inquire about her—actually care—but he probably thought she was another silly infatuation. But he was wrong. This was different, it was something much deeper. This woman, this girl, this beautiful maid—I had to have her.

I saw her when I was making my way to sparring practice. She had been marveling at the Banquet Hall while her friend aimlessly twirled around. From my distance, I couldn't see their faces, but I was curious.

As I approached them, I was immediately fixated by her appearance. She was reserved, I could tell, but beautiful nonetheless. The way her chestnut hair curled around her face. The way her dazzling blue eyes had sparked in surprise when she saw me. It had been so amusing when she pretended they were cleaning.

I had wanted to ask her to meet with me, in some place more clandestine, but her friend had been a strong deterrent. The frail-looking girl had seemed frightened out of her wits. No, I needed the maid alone.

If only I had asked for her name first.

...

As the morning turned into afternoon, and I finished exercising with several other knights, I did some investigating. This would be no easy feat, finding one maid out of thousands, but it had to be done if I ever planned on seeing her again.

The first thought that came to mind was checking the kitchens. I was somewhat forbidden there, it was a sort of unspoken rule that people of status, even a lesser status like mine, didn't enter the kitchens. Though, in the past, I'd gone multiple times with other crafty maids and aside from disdainful glances, no punishments had arisen from it.

As I made my way to the kitchens, I made sure I wasn't being followed. It wouldn't be good for my image if I was caught by a gossipy noblewoman—that is to say Lady Eora—and had my activities told to the King.

He would be furious if he discovered this habit of mine, going into places I wasn't allowed. I could never tell if King Renyld hated or loved me; sometimes, he would roar in anger when he discovered my not-so-discrete hobbies, and other times, he was far more lenient with me than anyone else. Including his own son.

I suppose it worked to my advantage. But it was strange being treated like his child when he had another son who he rarely interacted with outside of politics.

In the kitchens, I did not find the mysterious maid. However, I did find her friend, the golden-haired girl who had been scared out of her wits. She was sweeping, and I was standing there watching her like a perverted nobleman.

"Excuse me—" I began.

She shrieked in surprise; she hadn't noticed me until I spoke. The girl began backing to the wall, trying to create distance between us. Goodness, she was afraid. I could tell it was a deep fear that was probably rooted in something tragic.

Knowing that actions spoke louder than words, I remained calm so she would too. "I'm not here to hurt you."

Eventually after she noticed I wasn't moving, or trying to get closer, she relaxed—but only in the slightest. "I just wanted to ask a question."