village children. I want to be like Marlise.”
“Is there nothing she taught you?” Alastyn asked, desperately. “Nothing she ever mentioned about the mark?”
“No, nothing.” Jenevier stood, trembling. Her tears refused to stop. “I’m not ready, Alastyn. I’m not ready to fill Aunt Marlise’s shoes. And I’m certainly not ready to deal with some bizarre curse from some dark, twisted Prince.”
“If he or anyone else comes for you, they will have to kill me, Milady.” Alastyn stood, wrapping his strong arms around her trembling form. “No one’s leaving here with you, Jenevier… unless it’s me.”
This may be an inexperienced youth before me, yet he is blessed with the mighty heart of a warrior.
Jezreel came into the room carrying a bunch of dusty old books.
“Now, now. No one needs to die here tonight. Or any other night, as far as that goes. This house has known enough suffering and death as it is. Come. Let’s read through some of Marlise’s writings and see what we can glean.”
Jenevier lit more candles. They each began studying from different manuscripts, scrolls, and various other books.
As the night wore on, Jezreel stood and slammed shut an old shell-encrusted journal. “Well, I for one need some tea.”
“Sounds good to me.” Jenevier yawned. “How about you, Alastyn?”
“No thank you. I’m good,” he replied, absently.
Jenevier quietly stepped out the back door to drink in the night air while Jezreel heated the water. She loved the moon. It had always been her comforter, her glowing protector. The door’s hinges creaked as it opened behind her. Yet, she remained still—eyes closed, arms folded, face tilted toward the heavens. Smiling as she soaked up the cool night.
“You shouldn’t be out here all alone,” Alastyn whispered. “When I couldn’t find you, my heart skipped a few beats. Please, do not scare me so, Milady. Always stay where I can see you. Promise?”
She remained motionless, arms crossed over her chest. “How is it you are only seventeen?”
“I’m almost eighteen, Jenevier. I am not a child.”
She smiled. “How is it you’re almost eighteen, yet you seem ancient to me?”
“How so?”
“I read it in your sparkling green eyes, when you first took my hand.”
“I felt a mysterious pull in my heart at that very moment,” he admitted.
“Something happened…” She paused. “Well, something was trying to happen. Before we were interrupted.”
“Something did happen… in me,” he whispered.
His honest confession made her heart flutter.
“You make me feel secure, Alastyn… protected. Like it’s all going to be all right. How is that possible? How is it one still young carries such an old soul?”
He moved closer to her. Yet, she remained as she was.
“I had no choice, Milady. I didn’t have a blessed childhood. My father is a kind man, yes. But he is not nurturing. Not as my mother was.”
He cautiously reached out and lightly touched her hair. Most of the flowers and beads were still in it, but they were now wilting and loose. He stepped close enough to smell her again. He tried to breathe in her exquisite scent, lock it away deep inside, keep it with him forever.
She leaned back, resting wearily against his firm chest. His heart beat wildly. She smiled when she heard the excitement pounding within his breast, felt the vibrations of it on the back of her head. He wrapped his arms around her waist, placing his chin atop her head.
“I am truly thankful you were sent into my life this night, Alastyn,” she whispered, still smiling.
“There is no other purpose for my being. Not anymore. I knew that the moment I first saw you in the dance circle. It was an enchanting vision. One I will carry with me and cherish always.”
He gave her a tiny squeeze. Her heart leapt.
“Are you certain you’re only seventeen?”
“Almost eighteen.”
She smiled again. “And yet… so tall.”
“Perhaps you’re just, well, not so