He led me into the dining hall, which also acted as a gathering place for the knights when they had downtime. Tables were scattered throughout the room, and a large hearth housed a roaring fire. Smaller fires burned in the kitchen area with large cooking pots hanging over them.
It was cozy and dear to my heart.
When I’d first come to Bremloc, Maddox had realized I was a dreadful stable boy and too clumsy to handle weapons, so I’d been assigned to the mess hall. Cooking, cleaning, and dining with the men who’d eventually mean so much to me.
I set the basket on the nearest table, and the soft thud had gazes roaming over. “If anyone’s still hungry, I brought—”
That’s all I was able to say before tall, beefy knights swarmed me. They patted my head, pinched my cheek, and clapped me on the back in between taking their pick of the treats. I loved the smiles on their faces as they ate.
Two knights fought over a croissant. A third then popped up and stole it, causing the other two to give chase.
“The captain tells me the thief is living at the cottage now,” Callum casually said, watching the three chase each other. “Does this mean you love him too?”
“Yeah. I do.”
“Then, I’m happy for you.”
Why did his eyes look so… sad?
“Our small but mighty thorn prince!” a voice boomed before I was swept off my feet and smothered by muscles. There could be worse ways to go.
“Duke,” I wheezed, slapping at the massive arm constricting my midsection. “Too… tight.”
“Oh. Apologies.” He set me down and adjusted my cloak that had gone askew. “There. All better.”
Not that it mattered. With the arrival of Quincy and Baden, I became an Evan sandwich. My face was shoved into Baden’specs while Quincy squeezed from behind. My lungs screamed. But who needed to breathe anyway?
Rest in peace to the muffin lord. He’s gone to muscle heaven.
Baden stepped back from me and grabbed a jelly tart. “You are a sight for sore eyes, Evan.” He bit into the tart and nodded to Duke, speaking with his mouth full. “Seeing his ugly mug all day takes its toll on a man after a while.”
Duke smirked. “Your brother had no complaints about my ugly mug when I railed him. Then again, his face was in a pillow.”
Baden lunged at him with a roar, tart flying, and the two clashed and pummeled each other, grunting and talking crap as they punched and shoved. Light heartedly though, like best friends in a playful brawl.
Callum watched them with an amused gleam in his brown eyes. Maybe I’d only imagined the sadness earlier. He seemed like his usual self now.
“This is my favorite flavor,” he said, regarding the blueberry muffin in his hand. He hadn’t taken a bite yet. “But only when you make them.”
Something about the sight sparked a memory—a dream I’d had of seven men sitting around a table at the cottage, three of their bodies and faces shadowed. Symbolizing the three men still destined to fall for me. One had been munching on a muffin in the same exact way. He shared the same build with Callum as well. Muscled but not bulky.
Did that mean Callum was…No.
It had only been a dream spurred on by Lupin’s revelation about me being with seven men. No reason to think deeper into it.
Duke put Baden in a headlock. “Do you surrender?”
Baden slapped at Duke’s bicep and squirmed, all to no avail. He then sighed and slumped. “Aye, you redheaded bastard. Release me. The victory is yours.”
“No sweeter words have ever been spoken.” Duke preened, sliding a hand over his hair in a showy fashion. “I will treasure this moment for the rest of my days.”
“Keep talking and that day will come much sooner than you think.”
“Says the one who just admitted defeat.”
I was smiling so much my face hurt.
The brush of fingers against mine drew my attention to Callum. He watched the knights gorge themselves on sweets, seemingly oblivious of his wandering hand. A hand bigger than mine with a slightly rough palm and calloused fingertips that came from wielding a sword.
