Page 43 of Emma & Edmund

"It was my responsibility to point her out. You do not even know how she looks. It was half the reason I was even here tonight." Emma kicked a stone, and it bounced into the darkness before clicking against a tree.

Edmund hummed as they walked, letting her words sink between them for a healthy moment. Emma barely managed to contain her surprise when a heavy weight looped around her shoulders, and a warm body pressed into her side. "She probably never even came."

As his response rumbled through his chest, Emma could hardly pay attention to what he was saying, not when she was fascinated by how she was feeling. His warmth was welcoming, melting a chill from her Emma was not aware she had. It was almost too easy to lean into the comfort.

"If there is anything to apologize for," Edmund squeezed her shoulder, "it would be dragging you about town with such silly clothes."

"Stop it!"

With a closed fist and a laugh, Emma tapped against a chest far too hard for her weak jabs to hurt. Her attempt was only met with a chuckle of Edmund's own.

Without mutual commitment or a word between them, their steps puttered to a stop. The wind whistled through the trees and the lights of the town lay far behind them, casting them in near-total darkness, only spared by what little filtered moonlight made it through the dense thicket above.

Emma could feel Edmund's heartbeat through his palm, and her own matched its quickened cadence. She couldn't understand why nerves suddenly coursed through her, when she had never been nervous in Edmund's presence prior, nor why expectation burned through her veins when there was nothing to expect.

Yet, when she craned her neck to look into her companion's eyes, looking down at hers, instinct told her she had everything to expect.

"Emma," Edmund whispered reverently, his grip on her shoulder turning ironclad only a breath before his massive form began to lean down to hers. With her head upturned, Emma did little to stop him. 'Nothing' would be a more appropriate descriptor, given how the only action she took was to flutter her eyes closed.

When his breath feathered across her face, her lips pursed. She knew what was to come next, anticipation rushing through her veins.

"Hello, there."

As if lightning had struck them, Edmund and Emma shot apart.

Just as quickly as they parted, Edmund shoved her behind his back. Although it would have been impossible for the intruder not to have seen her, she, at the very least, did not have to bear the shame of looking into their eyes.

"What do you want?" With her face pressed into the back of his cloak, Emma realized too late that Edmund's mask remained in his pocket. The thought only came to her as Edmund's words rumbled through her cheek.

As hidden as she was, he was exposed.

"Why such harsh words, my boy? I only want to talk with you. With the both of you."

"I have no business with you," his deep words, laced with command and demanding submission, hit Emma's core far more than she would ever admit.

To ignore the sensation, Emma tentatively peeked around Edmund's rounded bicep. Cast in deep shadow, the only true detail she could make of the intruder was her inexcessive height. A head shorter than herself, the extreme narrowness of her shoulders and waist reminded Emma of a young tree, only just broad enough to avoid snapping in half during a strong wind.

The entirety of her face was hidden by night, but when she smiled, the stranger's teeth shone like gemstones, sending Emma's gut sinking. While still more than a couple steps away from them, even with Edmund in the way, the woman's phantom appearance made it seem like she could reach through space and time to capture Emma.

"I have to disagree." Emma watched her mouth move as she spoke, the shadow of her lips concealing and revealing her glowing teeth with each syllable. "And if you give me a moment, I can prove it to you."

The stranger's voice clawed at Emma's instinct to flee, ants crawling under her skin to form goose pimples. It took a force of will to keep her lips from snarling, as everything inside of her - perhaps God himself - told her to escape, to run from this woman as her life depended on it.

But still, she clutched Edmund's sleeve with all of her might, her nails digging into her palm through the billowed fabric, and did not flee.

"What do you think?" Edmund spoke over his shoulder, out of the corner of his mouth, not taking his eyes off the stranger even as he spoke to her. Perhaps he was feeling the same distrust she was. After all, how could one innocently approach such an odd pair, acting as if she knew Edmund?

"She's seen you, Edmund. I don't know who she is, she is certainly not the same woman as last night, and I do not trust her." She hardly tried to whisper, her heart pounding out any thought other than the need to be away from this person.

"If I may, Miss," the woman drawled not a moment after her words left her mouth, "I asked the young lord for his time. This is not your business."

"You will not speak to my companion that way," Edmund's neck snapped forward, dropping into a growl. For a long moment, too long in Emma's opinion, he studied the woman in the shadows. Emma watched his face as he did so, watched as his brow furrowed and mouth turned into a frown. It was a look he had never given her but even on his odd face, a studious look was universal. When he spoke again, the harshness had lightened from his words. "Are you not afraid of me?"

Emma could have screamed. If there was one single thing she had learned about Edmund Lockhart, is that his trust is too easily earned. Only the sight of those bone-white teeth gleaming through the shadow kept her mouth sewn shut with trepidation.

"I could never be afraid of a Lockhart," the shadowed being explained further. Emma felt and heard Edmund tense and heart quicken simultaneously. "I knew your parents."

"My parents?" Edmund jerked out of Emma's grip, surprise evident in his voice as the wall of harshness dropped, taking a step toward the whisp of a woman. "How?"

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