Queensmen

Chapter 27

~So Be It~

"So," Oris started the conversation anew, watching Bren scoop their youngest brother, Seth, into his arms and spin, and spin, in wide, looping circles.

"She said, 'why can't we all get along?' Ridiculous, isn't it?" she continued as the child laughed and giggled loudly in the hold of his favorite brother. "I just ignored her and carried on to the market, and do you know what she dared to call me as I walked away?"

"What?" Bren asked and came to a stop, his blue eyes twinkling and the exact shade of the sky above him.

"She called me a good for nothing, whoring tramp," Oris said then pouted, biting down on her lower lip and raising a hand to block the scorching Ray's beating against her face. "I had the urge to punch her right there."

"Did you?" Bren placed Seth on the floor of their porch but the two year old chose to cling to his leg instead of letting him go.

"No?" Still feeling wronged, Oris crossed her arms then let them fall to her waist, not knowing what to do with the anger pooling in her gut. She threw back her head, her braids lashing around her neck as she stared at the ceiling. She wanted to scream and be rid of it all.

"You should have," Bren said softly and ran his hand through his blond tresses. "I would have."

"Oh, really?" Oris' smile, though wide contained a hint of sadness. She turned on her heel once before resting her gaze on him. "I have to go."

"So soon?" He raised an eyebrow. "You just got back. . . Look, Seth misses you."

"Are you referring to the boy clinging to you as we speak?" She squatted and eyed the child who glared at her before burying his face in folds of Bren's tunic. "He doesn't seem to mind."

"He's still not talking to you?"

"I don't mind either," Oris said and laughed as she stood. "I know that I'm still his favorite and you're just his shield."

"I don't mind being a shield." Bren stated and smiled, reaching forward to tug on one of Oris' braids. "Are you upset that I didn't reject Astrid's advances?"

Oris didn't say anything, simply turning her head to the side and shrugging. It didn't matter to her what he did.

"You already know who I have eyes for," Bren said with all seriousness.

"The barber's daughter?"

"Oris."

"The farmer's daughter?"

"Oris!" Bren grabbed her by the shoulders and shook her twice. "Stop it, will you?"

She looked at him and swallowed. The anger dissipated slowly, like a cube of my ice left on the dining on a blazing summer morning. "It's me, isn't it?"

"Of course it's you," his hands moved to cup her face and she shivered at his touch. It was always cold, no matter how hard the sun scorched in the afternoons. "It has always been you."

"Prove it," she whispered, and he leaned in and scattered her anger-turned-jealousy with a soft, gentle kiss that left her breathless and wanting for more.

"I don't need to," he said, his forehead resting on hers as his thumbs drew small, cool circles into her cheeks. "You can see it for yourself."