When Angels Sin

16. A Deadly Encounter

Hilda

Despite looking attentively into the book she held between her hands, Hilda could not read a single word, for her vision was blurred by tears, and she was still crying as she sat beneath a large tree in the Northern woods, not so far from the gargoyles graveyard. 

She did not want to marry Mikal. She did not want to become a joke. She knew how everyone would make fun of her and talk behind her back. Poor Mikal. What a waste! Someone so handsome should be with a pretty young girl! Even he would not stop making fun of her himself. Moreover, he would further go and sleep around with any willing girl, and everyone would gossip and whisper behind her back, justifying her handsome husband's romances to be a natural result of his unfortunate marriage.

No, she would never allow that to happen. She deserved a man who would truly love and respect her. And she would love him with all her heart, even if he were the least handsome or the least wealthy. But Mikal was the last one to provide that. He was only marrying her for her father's gold. And yet, even when his intentions were clearly obvious, it was her own loving father who was trying to force her into this marriage. But she also knew that her father was not stupid. He too was after power. And who better than the Nordstroms to provide that? She was certain that if Mikal refused to marry her, her father would only offer her to Vilfred or even the child Lucian. Like some sheep! How humiliating... 

She quickly looked up from her book as she heard the sound of rustling footsteps, and she could see shadows moving between the trees, approaching her. 

"Please wait. Just listen to me," an approaching voice said, and the next moment the speakers emerged from behind a tree. Mikal, followed by Vilfred. Hilda quickly wiped away her tears.

"Lady Hilda, are you alright?" Vilfred asked as soon as he saw her, his warm green eyes frowning in concern, while Mikal walked behind him slowly with a cold smile.

"That must be a very touching book," Mikal smirked.

"What do you want?" Hilda shot him a hostile scowl.

"How unfriendly. I was only concerned when I saw your precious tears. And I thought tough boys don't cry."

"Mikal!" Vilfred reproached.

"First of all I was not crying," Hilda raised her head defiantly as she got up to her feet to face him. "And tough boys can show you how really tough they are." She put her hand over the hilt of her sword, and Mikal chuckled.

"I am quite certain you are tough, but you still can't beat me with that toy of yours," Mikal gestured at her sword.

"Oh I can quite assure you that is not a toy. And I can definitely beat you with this – not toy – of mine. I am far more experienced than you, young man. You see, I was already holding a sword when you were still a toddler."

"You mean to say you were a three year old toddler yourself, playing with a toy wooden sword."

"When I was three years old you were not even born yet," Hilda sneered.

"Yes I was." Mikal sneered back.

"You were not."

"I was."

"Stop it both of you," Vilfred snapped in. "How are you two ever going to get married?"

"Who said we are going to get married?" Hilda scowled. "Sir Mikal, I do not care what my father promised you, but I am sorry I cannot accept your offer of marriage. You see, you are too pretty for my taste."

"I am glad you realize that. It would be such an unpleasant situation if you were mistaken for the groom. By the way, I have never offered to marry you."