Two Years Later
A cool autumn breeze grazes my skin as I toss another handful of feed to the chickens; they cluck and scratch curiously before pecking at the yellow starch. Somewhere behind me one of the baby goats bleat and I turn around, watching her jump onto a stump Crispin had placed for them to play.
Emptying the rest of the feed in the chicken coop, I begin to collect the eggs the hens have laid, counting eight in all as I place them into a cloth satchel. "This'll make for a good breakfast," I say to myself.
Adjusting the strap, I exit the coop and duck inside our home, arranging them in the straw basket before heading back outside. As I bend down to pick up a pail of water for the horses, I hear a branch snap from the edge of the forest and sigh, knowing what is coming next. "Drats," I think.
"Cora!" Crispin calls out and I turn around, pleased to see him shirtless with a small buck draped over his shoulder. His muscles strain under its weight from carrying his kill throughout the woods, and I raise an eyebrow, enjoying the way they tense up as he gently places the animal on the wooden table he uses for cleaning his kills.
Pursing my lips, I make the small walk over to the horses in the barn and empty the water in their trough before meeting my raven haired prince at the butchering table. "What's wrong?" I ask innocently, pretending as if I do not know what he is about to say next.
He frowns and pulls out his knife from his pocket, preparing to skin the deer. "I told you I don't want you lifting anything heavy. At least not in your condition," he says, glancing down at the bump that was starting to form beneath my abdomen.
"My condition," I mock. "You act as if being pregnant means I am handicapped or something," I say. "Besides, I feel fine," I add with a shrug, my hand automatically going to where our child grows.
Rolling his eyes, he slips the sharp blade into the skin and begins to expertly clean his kill. "You may feel fine now, but what about in the future? You could potentially be hurting the baby or yourself. Besides, if you make one wrong step and fall causing something to happen to either of you..." he trails, shaking his head.
My lips turn into a smile and my hand cups his cheek. "I'm sorry. I'll try to keep that in mind," I promise. It's endearing to know he cares so much about not only me, but our child as well. From the moment I realized that my womb wasn't empty, he has tried his best to keep me from doing anything that could be potentially dangerous. Some are reasonable such as riding my horse or joining him on his hunts, but there are times like this where I think he is a bit overdramatic.
He gives me a satisfied nod, giving my abdomen a longing glance before meeting my gaze. "How about you go inside and relax. I'll finish up the chores and bring this meat inside as soon as I'm done," he suggests.
Sighing, I give in and place a gentle kiss on his soft lips before heading inside once again. Removing my muddy shoes, I sit down on one of the plush chairs that his father insisted we have and light the stone fireplace, filling the air with the aroma of charred pine.
Leaning back, my eyes flicker to the opened letter that sits on the small table beside me and my fingers swipe it up, still thrilled with its contents. The handwriting is awful, scribbled down in slanted and uneven letters, but it still brings a smile to my face each time I read it.
Cora and His Royal Pain in the Arse Crispin Carlyle,
Laria and I plan on heading to Paevia sometime during the winter months as our summer trip was too short given the fact that Kestrel was homesick and missed her kitten. I swear, if someone told me a few years ago that I'd be wrapped around a toddler's finger so tightly that I'd be willing to trek all the way home because a two year old missed her pet cat, I'd call you insane. Being a parent is definitely a challenge, I won't lie to you, but I will say that it is truly a blessing and one of the greatest feelings in the world and there is no better feeling than tucking that child in bed each night.
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The Thief and Prince
Historical FictionCora has undoubtedly had a rough go at life. Having to support herself for the majority of her life, she finds that not only does she enjoy the thrill of thieving, but she makes a damn good one at that. One grave mistake later lands her in prison...