Page 63 of An Archer's Redemption

The tables near the hearth were empty.

Maybe my mind was playing tricks and I had yet to wake.

I shrugged off the feeling and resumed my trek—only to be arrested by a cough from a darkened corner of the room directly behind me. Theonecorner, I now realized, I hadn’t checked.

“Hello? Is someone there? Breakfast isn’t for another two hours.”

A second later, a man stepped out of the darkness.

Raven hair fell to his shoulders with slight curls at the tips; shadowed eyes bore into me. The chiseled features of his face marked him handsome, and the tautness of the fabric across his chest hinted at muscled strength beneath his shimmering robe.

I wanted to smile, to offer my traditional welcome, but something in the man’s bearing made me take an involuntary step backward.

“Child, do not be afraid. I am a Priest of the One, here to offer help and comfort to those most in need. I arrived late in the evening. There were no rooms. Your clerk allowed me the warmth of your common room. I will take my leave, but only if you will accept my thanks for such kindness.”

The man’s smile was easy, and he possessed a confidence that made mewantto chat—and stare. Now that he stood in the dimlight of the room, I saw deep brown eyes matched mine. They weren’t the pits of swirling black my overactive imagination had conjured when he first appeared from the shadows.

The Priest bowed as if he were a commoner attending a royal. Then he rose and grinned, winked once, and turned to exit. As he gripped the door’s handle, he turned back and smiled once more. “You really are handsome. Your wife is a most fortunate woman.”

My jaw nearly smacked my chest.

Me? Handsome?

My wife?

Before I could protest that I wasn’t married, the strange, striking man disappeared, leaving me dumbstruck with my brow furrowed.

Hours passed.

I cracked and whipped a hundred eggs, diced dozens of potatoes, and sliced more tomatoes than I cared to count. My smock remained spotless, though I still brushed and picked at it as if crumbs clung to its surface.

Why did I want to tell that man I’m not married?

He’s a Priest, for Spirits’ sake.

And . . . can a Priest even be with another man? Most folk are okay with our sort, but a religious man? Is that even allowed?

What difference does it make if he’s handsome, or if his eyes made my legs wobble, or a smile—

“Hon, you all right? What’s got into you today?” my mother asked as she tossed a fresh towel in my direction. “Help me wipe down the kitchen. We’ve a full house for dinner tonight. Your da thinks the duke might show up, though I can’t see why. It’s the normal troupe on stage playin’ the same old tunes.”

I woke from my daydream and tossed a devilish grin back at my mother. “You love those players, and I seem to recall youstaring at a certain lead man last time they were here. You know, the blond with the tight pants that show off his—”

“Liam!” Ma swatted me with the towel still clutched in her meaty palm. “I’m a respectable,marriedwoman of society. I would never—”

I barked a laugh. “Never? Oh Ma, youdid, and I expect you’ll do so again—tonight!”

She swatted again, but I leaped out of the way, leaving nothing but air and another round of amused giggles in my wake. Ma couldn’t suppress her own chuckle and began whistling as we cleaned.

“See. You only whistle—”

“Not another word if you want to see another name day!”

My laughter rose again.

The rest of the day passed with the practiced routine of the simple life of commoners running a business in a small village. Cook for the guests, clean for the guests, cook for the guests again, shop for the guests, clean the stalls for the guests’ horses, cook for the guests, clean the guests’ rooms, cook for the guests, do the guests’ laundry, cook for the guests again.

Someone was always appearing in the common room asking for a bite to eat. We posted times for meals, but Ma wouldn’t hear of a guest being turned away. “The King wouldn’t have it,” she always said, as if she and the royal family remained in close touch after their decades-old visit. Most guests humored her, thankful she accommodated their stomach’s every desire.

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