Despatched on the 1st Day of Bloom AOK-21

Elyna folded her pages and sealed them with wax. Imprinted on the dark blue circle was the symbol of a single leaf. Something that was unmistakably from forest, Burhan and herself. Her personal sigil in perfect replica of the family heirloom she had been gifted by her great-grandmother.

Not entirely trusting her mother to ensure the missive was delivered, she took the letter to the small posting of Skyriders and paid for delivery. This letter at least, she knew would reach Malcolm. Tomorrow, who knew.

Dearest Malcolm,

I hope that this message finds you in goodhealth, with all blessings of the Seven upon you. I must apologise for the brevity of this missive, as I must take the opportunity to write with you, in a manner open and honest. I fear that it may otherwise be sometime before I can communicate freely.

My Father still supports our match. However, has agreed a manner to appease my Mother and her continued dissatisfaction with our previous attempt at engagement.

For my part, I can only express my deepest sorrow and disappointment that there should be any perceived barrier to our union. I feel utterly frustrated and hopeless, and wish that we could have found some time over the Frost to speak in person, as I will continue to miss your wise counsel, as I miss your presence today.

Those of Burhan have agreed that I will travel to Aramane and live out a life as a lady of Society. There will be social engagements, balls, dinners, picnics and all manner of frivolous affairs that I dread. I would much rather be working within the ‘Hand, or in Mayce beside you, places where I am needed and can be of use.

My wishes and desires have little place in this scheme. But I am assured that come the turn of Harvest blessing will be given to our marriage, if you still wish it. By Renmere tradition it would waiting an additional year to make our vows. Or, if you willing we could marry in Aramane.

It seems brazen and rather foolish to write things so openly, but as I mentioned I’m not certainly how long my correspondence will remain free from censor. My Mother and entire retinue of staff will accompany me across the sea.

We sail before the 12th. I will depart for Andaris today and spend as long as I can at my home in the city before summons. If there is anyway you could meet with me, in person before I am depart then it would calm my uneasy heart no end.

Although I appreciate that this is short notice and there are many things which claim your responsibility.

All best wishes and all my hopes are sent to you.

Ever yours,

Elyna.

Despite his disappointment upon reading Elyna’s letter, Malcolm couldn’t help but smile at the obvious disdain the woman held for high society. He had arrived at the capital a handful of days ago, her letter finding him soon after that, though he had been unable to find the time to read it until now. The days, though longer than frost, seemed to grow short in comparison to the long nights on duty within and beyond the city walls. It would be wise, he knew, to put quill to paper and bid his love safe travels without the heartache of a farewell shared face to face. The thought of going a season, let alone two, without seeing the woman, however, was just too much to bear.

He set out on horseback towards the road beyond the city walls where he had been stationed with the rest of the crew, sure that his absence would not be felt until first light. The peal of the ninth bell echoed from the heart of the city, the sky already dark, his path bathed in moonlight. Within the hour he was at her door, his horse reined to the stop outside, the animal’s head lowered to drink from a pail of water. Malcolm was in uniform, cloak folded and tucked into the saddlebag strung over the post alongside his mount. He removed his gloves as he approached the door, choosing to glance through one of the windows on his way to make sure there was no risk of Elyna’s mother answering the door, should they be staying together.

The knock he used was so very like him, firm, confident, yet unobtrusive. He stood back a step or two, hands turning his gloves in knots at his back. What if she wasn’t home, he thought—or worse, she had chosen to set sail early on account of his lack of reply. He knew what his brothers had thought of her letter, having gone over it earlier in the night. Owen had been sure it was a coward’s goodbye, while Benjamin had argued that this was another slight by the Burhan House, whom, he went on to add, had scarcely recovered from the acts of her late uncle, The Dragon King, thus had no business showing face amongst Renmere’s elite, and therefore had chosen to flee to Aramane to try their luck there.

Malcolm couldn't understand it, and while he did his best to ignore the arrogance and shortsightedness of his siblings, their perceptions had done little for his confidence in the longevity of the match. It was his children, he tried to convince himself, or perhaps his age… after all Elyna was somewhat younger than him with far less experience to boast. Mayce was a relatively new house, such was so, but its wealth was not in question and his management of the estate was nothing but diligent. How had she agreed to this, he wondered. Where was that defiance and determination he knew to be true of Elyna. There’s a perfectly reasonable explanation. He settled on the thought, after all, it had taken him this far.

When she was busy she could forget. Working the small curved spade into the half-frozen ground was hard work, but it was worth her attempts at weeding the fields. A few crops of vegetables had been gathered from her land, cauliflowers, beans, cabbages and potatoes. Hardy plants that could be tended by a small staff of one. Which was good, given her frequent absence from the home she had purchased for herself. With gloved fingers she tore up the root of a prickly weed and threw it back onto the pile. At the far end of the field, a tall man with wild red hair was similarly intent on preparing the landscape for fresh produce and planting. Ronan had been a blessing, a man of few words he wave a cheerful greeting when she was present at the farm and tended to correspond in short notes in her absences, consulting her on the decisions that needed to be made. He kept her home safe also, visiting regularly and ensuring that it was aired, that there was plenty of firewood and the timber structure was heated in winter so that it didn’t go to rot. After all, these were the things she paid him for and paid him well.

Hands on her knees, Elyna looked back towards the east and the city that crowded the horizon. Smoke from a thousand cooking fires clouding the air above it. A pair of riders advanced down the road and she paused in her work. They looked determined in their business and so she stood, clapping her hands together to shake off the loose dirt. Her little farm was a little away from the main road. So dread twisted her insides as the riders didn’t vanish behind the hill and copse of trees on their way towards the docks. Instead, they rode towards the little house on the hill. They sat tall, confident on their mounts and that was enough to tell her they were part of the Iron Hand, even before their livery became apparent across the distance.

Ronan, noticing the approaching visitors, stood at the far side of the field and she lifted a hand to him. Smiling to herself at his concern. He was a good man, she was lucky his own farmstead was so closely situated. Elyna tucked her gloves into her belt and approached her little house, the knees of her breaches were stained with mud, but she wore a decent woollen tunic of deep blue over her shirt. It was still cold at the start of bloom. Beside the door was a cherry blossom, pale leaves lifted in the wind and covered the track like snow, settling in her dark hair as she settled her stance, aiming for something neutral but confident. Amongst the Iron Hand, Elyna was comfortable, these were people she understood, even if she didn’t know why they had come to visit her.

‘Captain?’ Elyna saluted as the first man swung down from his mount. He was a short man with a ruddy face and sharp eyes. His dark hair was cut short to his head, standing up in bristles. His moustache however, was beautifully oiled and slicked into two fine black curls around his cheeks. He greeted her with a nod, before looking her over slowly, taking in the muddy clothes and the spade in her hand.

‘Weeding time?’ The Captain asked before turning to his accompanying Skyrider, ‘perhaps you can help out Lady Elyna in the field Thompson, check with her man about what’s the right stuff to pull up.’ He gestured to Elyna’s trowel. Perplexed, but amused, she held it out to a young man she didn’t know, a slender with a crown of golden hair also cut close to his head.

‘Ser,’ Thompson agreed as he checked the ties of their mounts to the post, he smiled at Elyna and accepted the trowel before striding towards the endless rows of ploughed earth and the weeds springing up wherever they could find purchase.

Elyna glanced back to the Captain, a man she had met a number of times but had little to do with. Clearly, whatever conversation they were going to have, was going to be unheard by others. ‘Would you like to come in?’ She gestured to the door and was relieved when he shook his head.

‘No thank you, Lady Burhan. But perhaps you could bring some refreshments outside?’

‘Of course,’ she bowed her head in respect and unlocked the door to the house, grateful that the man wouldn’t risk her reputation. It was an offer she probably shouldn’t have made, but she had always struggled with false propriety. Little was the best way to describe it. With one main room that encompassed living and sleeping space, it was cosy and clean. A small bathroom had been added, along with a store room that was currently filled with her belongings, all packed up and ready for her trip to Aramane.

With the fire already going and water simmering on top, it didn’t take long to make tea. Elyna carried two steaming mugs outside, and couldn’t help but grin when she saw the Captain had pulled out three lumps of cut wood. He balanced on one, leaning back against the stone exterior walls which clad the cottage. A wider low log had been set up as a table and he had clearly left her a perch on the other side. Tea delivered, she sank onto the proffered seat and curled her hands around the mug for warmth, still mindful of the mud that stained her cloths, but glad she’d taken a few moments to wash her face and hands before returning.

After a few moments had passed in contented silence, where they both sipped from their mugs and watched Ronan instructing Thompson about the correct way to pull weeds, Elyna couldn’t hold her silence any longer.

‘How can I help you, Ser?’ She looked across at the man, curious.

Captain Albius wriggled his nose, moustaches twitching above his top lip. ‘Lady Burhan, or Skyrider Reyes if you would prefer it?’

Elyna grimaced, ‘just Elyna, or Reyes if you don’t mind Ser.’

‘Not at all,’ he stretched out his legs, setting his back to the stone once more as they sat, taking in the fields and trees beyond. ‘Although, it is your names that have created a unique position for you.’

Elyna swallowed some of the nerves that started to build within her chest, ‘Ser?’ She took another sip, determined to remain neutral until she understood what this strange visit was for.

‘You are, by all accounts a Skyrider of Good standing within the ‘Hand.’

‘Thank you Ser,’ a wave of relief washed some of those nerves away. The cherry tree shook off some more of its blossoms, creating a flurry around their feet.

‘You’re welcome to it, anyone in the ‘Hand who works hard, is welcome to their praise where I am concerned, no matter their other responsibilities and entitlements.’

Her sense of dread was quick to return, she couldn’t just be a normal Skyrider, could she? It would never be in her stars. At points she had made her peace with the life that stretched before her, even been excited for the future, but that was hard to cling onto, when her Mother was making things so difficult with Malcolm.

‘It is your Noble title that takes you to Aramane, I understand?’

‘Yes, Ser. I was required to submit a request to leave for the next two seasons. I sincerely hope to continue my work in the ‘Hand upon my return.’

‘I would appreciate it, Reyes, if you would continue your work on our behalf whilst in Aramane.’

‘Ser?’

For the next hour, Albius detailed just how a noble daughter, in society functions could be useful to the Crown and the ‘Hand. Gathering intelligence and information regarding alliances within Aramane. He had even made contacts within the Aramanian army, and hoped that her curiosity to ride with the cavalry would be indulged. Griffins…the thought of riding a Griffin had filled her mind completely and eased a little more of the sting of leaving. It had never occurred to Elyna, that she could be useful abroad, as anything other than a Skyrider. Albius, however was confident that her unique position would allow her a broad access to society and therefore valuable information. A trusted Skyrider would form part of her Mother’s retinue, a woman who could attend society functions as a Ladies Maid and also send correspondence through safe channels to Albius and therefore the King.

When Albius, Thompson, and eventually Ronan departed for the evening. Elyna felt that her world had been tipped upside down. She could be useful, she could be of worth. She could be something other than an unmarried woman in need of a husband. Suddenly, seasons of social engagements didn’t feel so torturous. She could put on a mask, she could do what was needed to glean the information Albius and the Crown required to monitor Aramane.

Darkness settled over the farm as Elyna checked her little home once more. Everything was ready for her departure the next day. Once she’d been left to her thoughts, she’d been lost in them, staring out of the window at the road, excited for the first time, for the trip ahead. There was something good that could come from disaster.

Within her newfound excitement, there was a sliver of guilt and worry. Would they expect her to flirt for information? Was that a genuine expectation? Was it something that she could do, or wanted to? Elyna sat at the small table in the kitchen area and stared into her bowl of stew. It wasn’t something she would want to do. She didn’t feel good about that possibility and suspected that Malcolm wouldn’t either. She let out a slow sigh, jumping as a knock sounded on the door.

Elyna stood, she’d changed from her field clothes earlier, instead wearing a corset and skirts of forest green. Not expecting visitors, her hair was left to fall over her neck and shoulders, curling against her back. Too few steps took her to the door, her sword was left balanced beside it, in reach if needed as she lifted the latch and opened the divide just enough to peer into the moonlight beyond. It took her a fraction of time to recognise who stood beyond, at which point the door was pulled roughly open as she stared at the man who was her betrothed, who by all rights should have long been her husband. She couldn’t help but smile at him, warm, genuine and delighted by his presence.

‘Mal,’ she flushed, fingers tingling with the unexpected pleasure of his arrival. ‘Please, come in.’ Nerves racing through her body as she stepped back to allow him entry. Beside the door were pegs for weapon belts, cloaks and hoods. Her own boots were tucked neatly away. Directly before the door was a small wooden table and a pair chairs. Beside that was the cooking fire, warm and bright against the early Bloom temperature. The curtains were drawn, keeping the light from a number of candle stubs trapped within the cosy space. Beside the fire was a day bed, propped with pillows it was either a comfortable space to sit and relax, or a bed to sleep for the night. It took up the majority of the left wall which was broken by the door to the bathroom. Then on the wall facing the cooking fire, were cabinets where food and cooking wares were kept.

For a moment she could only stare at him, wondering if he would enter but why would he come so far if he wouldn’t? She pushed her hand through her hair, hoping he would be enticed by the smell of cooked-off stew, Elyna glanced around the room before bending to collect a fresh bowl and spoon from the cupboard.

‘You have to come in…Please,’ she insisted, eyes wide as she pleaded and gave him no chance to argue by crossing the room to serve him some of the evening meal and set it on the table. Her hands shook, even as she struggled to stop them; trying not to slosh the broth over the neatly kept space in her hope that Malcolm wasn’t going to stick to rigid proprietary. They were beyond that, weren’t they?

It seemed Elyna’s nerves were catching and Malcolm found himself breathless for a moment, pinned where he stood. What sort of reception had he imagined and why did this one fall short of those expectations. He looked about himself, as if he had just stepped out of an invisible crowd. Why did he feel as if they were being watched? But of course, he reminded himself, their engagement was to be kept quiet until the following spring, should all go well. Those were Lady Burhan’s terms. But what of his own wants and desires? Malcolm hadn’t given himself enough time to process the letter, he now realised. What if a year was too long to wait. What other option did he have if Elyna was truly the woman for him.

He stepped inside and closed the door behind him with one last glance shot across the misty fields beyond. Should he hang his weapons belt, he wondered. Was the gesture too presumptuous. It was late after all. Elyna served him a plate as he gave an awkward pause, lost for words and action. Two seasons without being able to look upon her beauty, hear her voice, embrace her… and that time frame did not consider travel, it could be more than three before he saw her again. He fixed his gaze in her direction, taking measure of her form, of her face—what did her eyes say that her lips dare not speak? She seemed flustered by his presence, yet remained the master of her domain, forced into composure.

Elyna set the bowl down and, as she turned to face him, was met by the wall of a man, with little room to escape the arms that went about her and the kiss he pressed to her temple. He knew then that he had made his decision to wait for her and the voices in the back of his mind, the doubt shed by his brothers, grew faint. His fingers fell free of her loose tresses, the hand at the small of her back falling to relax at his side. He looked down at the stew, the meal forgotten a split second later as he met her eye. “I was so sure I’d missed you,” he said, voice strained as if overcome all of the sudden, the reality of their situation only now hitting home.

Why did the urge to kiss her feel tainted somehow? Almost as if the woman was no longer his to desire, his to hold. There was a sense of disconnect, a duty to press pause. Were the poets right? Was it better to love and let go? He would know come Frost whether or not his love was returned or rescinded. His weapon belt hung like a weight from his hips, the leather soles of his boots on fire as if he stood on trial, ready to face judgement. Words were light but the look they shared felt so heavy. He could not pressure her knowing the task she faced, the decisions that would need to be made. The interactions she was likely to encounter.

“Forgive me,” Malcolm said, “how rude of me.” He shifted to take up the chair, making no attempt to tuck himself against the table. “This smells divine. I didn’t know you were such a fine cook,” he added.

‘I…I’m a terrible cook,’ Elyna replied, breathless. It was almost too much, to have him here in her tiny little cottage. It was something she had imagined and daydreamed far too many times in the last few days especially. Now he was here, it felt unreal. He’d swept her into an embrace and she had returned it. She had squeezed him hard and never wanted to let the man go. Only for him to ease back and shuffle, awkward onto one of the chairs. Elyna stared down at him, struggling to find her composure once more. He did this to her, robbed her of sense and reason. All of her thoughts had been cast aside along with any memory of social convention and expected propriety.

He was here, he hadn’t just said goodbye at the door and left. Somehow, she had made him stay. Perhaps he even wanted to.

Before she knew herself she had curled her hands around his shirt at his shoulder and pulled, attempting to pull the man back to his feet. He was far heavier than she was, even if she worked hard within the ‘Riders, it was an awkward angle to try to negotiate. Even as she attempted to pull him up, she stumbled, crashing down against him. Part of her didn’t care, part of her cringed at the idea he might think her brazen, or foolish or wanton. But she wrapped her arms around his neck and found his mouth against her own. Elyna kissed the man, her hips pressing against the uncomfortable weapon belt as she partially lent over him, having been unable to pull him to her feet as had been her ridiculous intention.

Far too many thoughts were tumbling in her mind, to make any sense of their situation. But above all things, she needed Malcolm to know. She needed for him to understand how she felt for him, be it through her words or her actions.

Elyna’s protest was unexpected, both in word and action and, before the stew was tasted, it was forgotten, no more use to them than a bowl of rocks. Her failed attempt to move him had only seen them jolted together like a pair of uncoordinated teenagers. Her weight across his lap, however, was welcomed as his arms moved to steady her and he leaned in to meet her kiss. Passion was strange in the way it simmered, ever hopeful, beneath the surface, ready to rise and engulf all those in its path. Malcolm anchored a boot against the floor and the chair gave a groan under them as he moved them a few inches from the table, enough to see the woman straddled across his lap after a moment spent wrestling skirts and belts.

The weight of his weapons saw the strap of leather that held them to his person, lull against the frame of the chair, free of his hips, all while they shared a kiss he didn’t want to end. Malcolm was not the type of man to let his desires rule him, but this was Elyna, the woman he hadn’t been able to cast from his mind since the moment he had laid eyes on her. The memory haunted him still in the sweetest way. In that moment he did not know himself, startled even by the gruff sound of pleasure that passed his lips, muffled against her own. Did she know how weak she made him, he wondered, sure he did not have the strength to stand if he tried. His thigh muscles twitched, body overcome.

He broke to drag his lips across her jaw as a hand returned to her hair, fingers lost to the dark silk as he adored the column of her neck with tender affection. Who was he? Who was this animal he had become, a slave to his most basic instincts. Never before had he abandoned his post for pleasure. Never before had he felt so little regret at doing so. His free hand traced the back of her thigh and glided over the curve of her backside before it stopped and squeezed. She should have been his, they should have been wed this summer, free to devour one another as they pleased. Instead the prospect seemed so achingly far away, so out of their reach it may as well remain nothing more than a dream.

Words had always escaped them, but what they lacked in verbal communication, was always made up for in their physical connection. If a little rusty at first, they always seemed to find their rhythm, fluent in the language of love. It was simple with the right person, part of him knew that was why he had chosen Elyna. He liked her, he liked how at ease he felt once stripped bare of all his defences before her. That sort of connection was rare, he knew because no one else had ever tempted him the way she did. He pressed his nose to her’s, eyes lidded as he found her mouth to indulge in another kiss, this one rougher than the first, all passion and desire, his responsibilities cast aside as easily as his belt.

His hand fell from her hair to reach between them, buried under the skirts to undo his trousers and free himself. Brazen, he traced the shape of her underwear with his fingers, pulling them aside to paint his digits with her essence. His eyes fell closed as he bowed his head to kiss the tops of her exposed breasts, pushed up by the corset she wore. Sense, as determined as it was, warned him to stop, that their actions were reckless, hasty. Another voice too easily silenced this night, he found. He did not join them, but how he burned to. “Oh Elyna,” he mouthed, hands finding her hips again. He would leave the decision to her and promised himself he would not be disappointed if she declined.

It seemed her emboldened actions were to be rewarded. Drawn across the man’s lap she found her skirts hitched around her hips. Cool air tickled her shins and ankles, her knees butted the back of the chair as she shivered, burning above the man. She was shaking, trembling with the strength of desire she could not explain. Elyna was certain that she did not have the strength to stand, all the blood in her body seeming to pool in her core. A fire lit from kindling she found herself a creature of passion. One that only Malcolm seemed to create. Even if her kiss had started as clumsy there was no denying the strength of their shared passion.

Her fingers threaded through his hair, her mouth tracking the line of his neck and jaw as though she could devour him. This man who should be her husband. This man who had captured her whole heart. With such unbridled desire, Elyna found herself poised above the man, panting and a little uncertain in his hesitation. Why would he stop? Elyna held back her soft moan of frustration, her nose moving across his cheek as she inhaled his scent. She could feel the heat of him and yet he paused.

She drew back enough to study his features, heart thundering as though she’d run to the city and back. Chest rising against the confines of the corset, one that threatened to reveal far too much decadent flesh should it slip any further out of place.

There was an almost pained expression in his face, eyes lidded with desire as he met her gaze with a resolve that she couldn’t place. Until she realised the grasped of his restraint and could have cried. She cupped his face gently with her left hand, smoothing her thumb over the stubble of his jaw. A featherlight kiss pressed to his lips as with her free hand, she joined them. The movement delicate and almost painfully slow, taking every part of her restraint as she sank against him. Elyna held his gaze for as long as she could, she needed him to know.

‘I love you,’ she spoke the words aloud. Softly as feminine scars yielded and she used her right hand to smooth the flesh beneath his shirt. ‘I love you, Malcolm,’ she didn’t want there to be any confusion or doubt. Her breath shivered as she pressed a final kiss to his lips.

Their union complete, she was overtaken with the sense of him once more. With a moan she moved, her hands curling in his shirt, bare feet curling behind her. Her attempts at delicate torture were ended and when she rose to kiss him once more, her actions were naught but hungry, desperate for the resolution of their wanton acts.

A deep sigh of approval escaped the man in a breath as Elyna sought to see them joined. She uttered the sweetest words of affection only to be silenced with a kiss. He could not tell her he loved her when she had stripped him of his wit, leaving him emotionally bare. She hadn’t misjudged him, he was a man of action, and with his passion ignited, he took it. Malcolm found the woman surprisingly light as he lifted her to the table after she had taken her turn driving him to the very brink of his undoing. He knew if he didn’t take control now, she would accomplish just that in record time.

“I love you,” he managed, taking a moment of pause to enjoy her as he looked into the eyes of the woman he wanted to call his wife. They shared another kiss and burned candlelight together.

Breathless and with spirits on high, Malcolm saw fit to return to Elyna with haste after feeding the fire, their desire satisfied for the moment. He didn’t stop there, though, choosing to undo the lace of her corset where she stood, longing to see and caress more of her. He abandoned his uniform, piece by piece sacrificed to the floor until he too stood stark against the orange glow of firelight. He walked her backwards to the daybed, gaze fixed on her, drawn to her like a beacon in the night.


“Whose house is this?” Ben asked.

“I’m not sure… but that’s Malcolm’s horse,” Owen said.

Benjamin went by the window and ducked all of the sudden, hand over his mouth. They had left their horses pegged to the roadside at the bottom of the lane that led up to the small cottage.

“What’s wrong with you?” Owen asked.

Benjamin didn’t reply, instead he bit into a balled fist to keep himself from laughing.

Owen edged towards the window, taking far more care than his brother had. His mouth dropped open and Benjamin threw a hand against it and pulled him down alongside him next to the woodpile.

“I!”

“Shh!” Ben stopped him.

Owen closed his hands over his own mouth, sharing a look with his brother that said it all.

“Was that Elyna?”

“I don’t know,” Owen said, “but I saw far more of Malcolm’s backside than I care for!” He whispered, the words followed up with a laugh.

Benjamin whacked Owen on the chest with the back of his hand.

“I’ve never seen him… let alone heard him speak of—“

“I know,” Ben said, “I thought he was otherwise inclined.”

“What’s that meant to mean?”

“Him and Jared,” Ben admitted his thoughts.

Owen looked at him wide eyed. “No way.”

“How do you know?” Benjamin asked.

“Trust me. I just know.”

“We should interrupt,” Ben suggested.

“What? No, we can’t!”

“Before anything happens!” Ben said. “If that is Elyna she’ll be ruined if they don’t marry. Think of the gossip.”

“People are still gossiping about her and Yilmaz,” Owen reminded him. He sat for a moment before following up. “Shit, you’re right. If they don’t marry, they’ll only regret this.”

“If it’s the first time,” Ben remarked.


A loud knock at the door saw Malcolm to his feet. He unraveled a blanket from the foot of the bed and saw to it that Elyna was covered before he dressed with haste. He pulled his sword from his discarded weapon belt and answered the door, only to find no one there. “Wait here,” Malcolm said before going out into the cold to search outside. He returned a few minutes later with nothing to report, fingers pushed through the short mop of black curls on his head, a sign that he was stressed. “I don’t see anyone out there. You heard that knock too? I’m not going crazy?” He collected his weapon belt and fixed his uniform.

Elyna was left giddy by more than just their actions. His words seemed to float in the air and settle on her skin like the sweetest kisses he could have bestowed. She felt painted golden in the candlelight, as though she could glow from within. It was an expression she hadn’t understood until that moment. He loved her. Malcolm loved her. Pliable to his every whim and desire. Confident in his affection she was more than happy to play the coquettish nymph or seductress as he threw wood on the fire and started to strip away his own clothes. Her own had been happily discarded before her skin caught alight. Even with the lingering chill of recent Frost, it was almost too hot in the room, the single window that she had left uncovered, painted with steam.

Her hand extended to his, she made her slow retreat to the bed. Her eyes fixed on his, as though she could memorise each second spent and fix it in her mind, ready for those times when he would be beyond her reach. Those were thoughts that she did not want to entertain, instead choosing to tumble with Malcolm into the many blankets and scatters sheets.

The brash sound of a fist resounding on wood had the effect of ice water thrown upon their passion. Malcolm startled, and Elyna found herself scrambling to her knees. A blanket thrown over her shoulders, she pulled it rigid about her body as he moved around the room and left, faster than she could have imagined possible. He had told her to wait, but she was on her feet, scrabbling for the nearest clothes to hand. A loose shirt that she often slept in, was yanked over her head. She pulled her hair back, tying it away from her face as she approached the door and her own sword, the shirt reaching her knees as she padded barefoot, only to retreat quickly back to the bed when he returned. Caught like an errant child sneaking out of their bed at night. She tripped, banging her leg on the wooden frame as she climbed back onto the mattress.

Rubbing the coming bruise she searched Malcoms expression, her own heart hadn’t stopped racing. ‘I heard it,’ she admitted. Though she wished it wasn’t true. Another moment and she escaped the bed again and moved past Malcolm. Pressing her nose to the glass she stared into the inky night before pulling back, drawing the curtains with frustrated haste.

It was then that she took a breath, struggling to centre herself. Finally she turned to see the man who had just moments ago been in the midst of making sweet love, dressed and ready for battle. ‘You’re leaving?’ It was hard not to feel stung by his sudden desire to depart. Impossible to keep the accusation from her voice. But they had been caught, hadn't they? Their trust was discovered and sent a chill of fear through her. It was all so unfair.

Really, they both knew that she was the one who was departing. In just a few hours she would be setting sail for another country, ready to be paraded as a bride on a marriage market.

‘This isn’t what I want,’ Elyna clenched her hands into fists, ‘Mal, I don’t want to go Aramane.’

“No,” Malcolm said, “no, of course not. I’d never leave you alone… not after—“ After they were caught? After someone had knocked and chosen not to show themselves? No, he thought, there was no way he could leave her alone after that.

He pulled open the curtain Elyna had just closed and stepped outside again to peer into the cottage. The glass was old and cheaply made, the figure beyond blurred at best, especially through the steam that glossed them over from the inside. One last sweep of the surrounding farmland proved wasted. Anyone could have knocked, Malcolm thought. He had not informed his crew of his plans and they were unlikely to seek him out, given his excuse.

Inside and with the door locked and the curtain closed once more, Malcolm hung his belt alongside Elyna’s cloak. His eyes found her and he couldn’t help but smile at the long shirt she had pulled on in a hurry, inside out if he was not mistaken. He wore an easy smile, one that ceased as he entertained the thought he was sure they shared. What if they had been seen and who by?

“Elyna… I’m sorry—this, I was reckless to take liberties afforded only to those who may call each other man and wife. Forgive me. I knew our time was limited and I… well” What, he thought, wanted something to hold onto until they met again? Needed to make some strange claim lest she be teased away from him? “I’m going to miss you, more than you know.”

He closed the small distance between them and pulled her into his embrace. Malcolm wasn’t going to ask her to make any promises to him, he knew exactly what her mother intended. “Wherever life takes you,” he said, “just be you.”

He would never leave her alone, not after they’d been caught in an act of passion. Elyna found herself chewing on her bottom lip. Their ignited desire had not been sated, for all that it was slipping away given the circumstances. There was no denying that their failure to reach resolution added to her sense of frustration. But if Malcolm wouldn’t leave her alone, then was he staying the night? She clung to the hope that her thoughts afforded.

Elyna remained silent, watching him check the window and step outside again. She adjusted the skirts around her waist so that they hung properly and after a glance at the inside-out shirt let out a quiet sigh, not caring enough to correct her appearance. Instead she pulled a pillow across her lap, her legs crossed as she settled on the bed. The pillow held between her arms before it was just as quickly discarded as he returned.

Elyna grimaced, they were none the wiser as to who had disturbed them. She looked around herself, as though for something to do as he hung up his belt, until his words turned the last blaze of warmth within her body to ice. She lifted her gaze to him, disbelieving. Shocked she found herself in his embrace before she was able to find her voice again.

‘Don’t you dare,’ it was a choked protest, she pushed her hands against his shoulders to lean back and stare into his face once more, ‘don’t you dare apologies for ‘taking liberties,” the words were bitter on her tongue as she scanned his features, ‘I thought I made myself clear, that I wanted you as much as you want me.’ She blinked quickly, tension coiling in her middle. ‘Stop talking like I’m going to change my mind!’

Overwhelmed she edged back, near breaking his embrace. How could he even think it. She was angry, frustrated and none of those emotions could be laid at his feet. Elyna took hold his hand and led him back towards the bed once more, but bid him to sit. Taking care to step away as she studied him, just incase he wouldn’t even sit on her bed, or share that space with her. Elyna crossed the room, struggling to compose herself as she twisted her hands together.

Finally, she bent and pulled a bottle of wine from the cupboard. One he might recognise from his birthday near two years before.

‘I fell in love with Malcolm Bennett.’ She set the wine, unopened on the table with a soft thump.

‘We’ve never spoken about Yvan,’ she cringed, knowing how the way she said he name, betrayed her. Everyone else called him The Butcher, or Yilmaz. ‘You’ve never asked…’

‘I was living darkness, until I fell in love, with a man who escorted me back to the city one night in Frost. Meeting you was like a hit to the head. You were like a beacon, without any word of judgment. You just shone this light on all the ways my life was wrong…How could I stay there, when I had met you?’ She scrubbed a hand across her brow.

‘I loved you…I loved you and I was trapped. I loved you and never had any hope that you might feel the same way. That you might think me more than just a foolish girl who had given herself too easily to the wrong man.’ Her eyes stung but she refused to cry.

‘I’ve loved you, and couldn’t stay on this island whilst you married someone else. I didn’t know how I was going to survive visiting you for the ball last Frost. How was I going to watch you dancing with your wife? How was I going to pretend that I didn’t still love you madly?’ Elyna took a breath then.

‘I don’t trust that they will give me your letters. I don’t trust that they will let me send my own.’ She shivered, she was afraid of setting sail within her mother’s power, of giving herself over to Caelin’s whims.

‘Don’t… don’t you dare think that they can do anything that will change how I feel for you, Malcolm! I need you to know that. I need you to understand. Please,’ she shifted her weight from foot to foot, feeling unable to approach, ‘please Malcolm…please.’

Beneath the curtained window, Ben and Owen exchanged another guarded glance. Their decision to sneak back to the little cottage was paying dividends.

Malcolm appeared surprised by her obvious disapproval, but rather than follow her, he allowed her a moment to articulate her thoughts and speak her mind. He would always give her that. When she took pause, he rose from the bed and went to her again, voice gentle. “Elyna, no. What I imagined was… that should my actions this night cause you any grief—I simply don’t want to be one of your regrets,” he admitted, settling on the truth rather than some pretty half truth. “Elyna..” he grew quiet and smiled, choosing only to stare at her for a long while. She was beautiful, even when she was angry., “Pour us some wine.”

She had given him a lot to consider, to mull over in his mind. Had he realised there was a spark so early on, perhaps they could have avoided so much pain. “When you gave me this wine,” he recognised the bottle and picked it up to study it as glasses were fetched, “I recall somewhat of a heart to heart taking place. Know, my love, that I only desire for you to live a life without regret.”

Malcolm set the bottle down again and remained silent, his gaze fixed on her, after all, it was going to be some time before he would see her again… and he didn’t want to forget a single detail. The way her hair fell, the shape of her jaw, the light in her eyes. As she worked on the wine he swept her hair over her shoulder and kissed the newly uncovered skin of her neck. “Never doubt how much I love you,” he whispered, leaning into her, eyes closed as he stole a moment of contentment. “I may not say it enough, but I hope in my presence you will always feel it.”

‘That’s what I’m telling you Mal,’ Elyna looked up into his steadfast gaze and offered a small smile, hopeful as she studied him. He had this effect on her, with Malcolm she felt at peace. As though there really could be hope for a future. One where she didn’t merely survive, but one where she lived. ‘I’m telling you that I’ve loved you for two years, and my only regrets are the time I’ve not spent in your arms, or your bed. When I didn’t have your kiss…’ she feathered a gentle hand against his shoulder, curious to see if her token had returned to his neck.

Bid to pour wine, she smiled to herself. Two steps took her to the cabinet where some glasses could be found. She returned and set them neatly before reaching for the bottle after he was done examining it. She turned it in her own hands, ‘you told me… to drink it in celebration.’ Elyna looked up at him. ‘That night…you made me believe that I could have something more in my life. More than just the ‘Hand. More than just…waiting to be summoned back to Burhan. So I bought this place.’ She popped the cork and started to pour. ‘Somewhere I could call home, I don’t get to spend much time here but…at least they can never take it from me.’

Elyna studied the dark red liquid in the flickering candlelight. Quiet for a moment, eyes closed as she absorbed his kiss. She bit her bottom lip to stop it from shaking.

‘My Mother is in the city…finding wigs for me.’ She curled her hand around one of the glasses, ‘my hair is too dark to be fashionable. The wardrobe she has prepared is a few sizes too small, but she is confident that by the end of our voyage, I will fit.’

She drew a breath, ‘all of the shoes have heels and every member of the retinue she has chosen is aligned with her ideals…of what she believes I should be. Mal…I wouldn’t be doing this if I didn’t believe she would keep her promise. That come harvest I can chose you.’

Elyna extended a trembling hand towards her glass and claimed it. ‘You could come to Aramane…we could marry there without waiting till next Blaze…’ she spoke softly, hardly daring to believe it could really happen.

As Elyna spoke, Malcolm continued to dot kisses to her neck and jaw in an attempt to distract her from the small horrors her mother had in store. He knew heels and wigs were so far from anything the Skyrider desired to entertain. Finally she had captured his attention with her proposed idea that they marry in Aramane. “You think they’ll let me have the time off?” It wasn’t really a question as they both knew the answer to it. “What about all of our friends and family? Don’t you want to celebrate with them?”

He sat against the edge of the table and twisted to take up a glass of wine. The taste was exactly what he preferred about a red, dry and not too sweet. As soon as he set the glass down it was forgotten, his gaze captured by her once more. He looked at her as if he could see her stringing her thoughts together before she was able to give them breath. Malcolm drew her close, his hands on her hips. “In a year and one season we will be man and wife,” he told her, without a shred of fear, doubt or regret in his voice. “You’ll be your own woman, free of your mothers designs, free to ride the skies and lay your head wherever you please, be it here in your very own home or tucked away in the mountains. Wherever you choose, I’ll be there alongside you.”

“But…” Malcolm paused. “Should you find yourself in need of rescue before that time.” Malcolm pushed his hand into the pocket of his trousers and brought forth a stone rune, rare as hen’s teeth in this part of Noar. “You will have this,” he said and pressed the token into her hand. “It’s a gate rune. The postal service use the magic gate in town to send items through to Aramane.it works the same way in reverse. I know Renmere has a deep mistrust of magic… but if you find yourself in any danger, come home to me, El.” The rune was a one time use that would be dissolved by the gate should she pass through as payment for travel.

It was hard to stay focused on the long season ahead, and all of her dread when he kept kissing her. The light, teasing brushes of his lips against her skin were enough to leave her senses feeling dulled, foggy. As though she had already finished the bottle of wine. She twisted the stem of glass between her fingertips and closed her eyes. Ready to allow this moment to simply be.

Malcolm would never be allowed the time away from Renmere, but it had been a nice daydream.

Drawn closer she reached around the man to set her drink down, watching it wobble before staying upright. Satisfied the glass wouldn’t tumble to disaster the woman set her hands on his shoulders once more. Her token was missing and she couldn’t help but wonder where it was, and why he no longer wore it. An ancient heirloom of her family, it had been the only gift she could give the man.

A year and a season, another small smile pulled at her features, rueful. They should have been married already, and the time lost was her fault entirely. Though she still couldn’t puzzle why none of their correspondence had made it to one another. Nor why no one had told her that Malcolm hadn’t married.

‘A year and a season,’ Elyna lent forward to collect her drink, she lifted it in a salut before taking a sip. Then she lifted onto her toes to press a kiss to his cheek. ‘Then I can call you mine…’ It seemed so impossibly far away, but she wanted to catch hold of that dream and cling to it as long as she could. Several of the candle stubs had died out, leaving them with just the fire and the longer candle nearest the bed. The shadows that fell around them were warm, just enough to illuminate the gift that Malcolm pressed into her palm.

It took an act of willpower not to snatch her hand away. Elyna, like many of Renmere did not like magic, it made her feel uncomfortable to acknowledge. She held her palm up to her face, eyeing the small stone sidelong. With her free hand she extended a finger and poked it, tentative, as though expecting lightning to shoot from the surface. When nothing happened she tucked it carefully away into the pouch worn around her middle.

It meant more than she could articulate that he had come prepared with the stone, as though knowing that she might need the help. But that was Mal, astute. Or perhaps he was offering a gift that should have been used for his own safety. Either way, she refused to over think the gesture. It was a mark of her trust that she has accepted the magical item. Perhaps she was imagining it, but her palm still tingled where it had sat.

‘Thank you…’ it must have cost a small fortune. But she felt a weight of relief lifting some of the dread from her shoulders. She had a way home. Elyna lifted her gaze and smiled at the man. Her wine discarded she looped her arms around his neck and edged forward, their bodies pressed lengthways together. ‘I’ll want to use it, the moment I lose sight of you,’ she admitted.

‘Letters,’ she said slowly, ‘I don’t know what will get through to you…if anything..but grace…’ she mulled the word over. ‘No matter what you hear, what correspondence you receive from me…Grace means that I love you, that I cannot wait to return to you.’

She looked to the locked door then, ‘you are staying?’ She lowered her voice, ‘will you come to bed?’ Elyna didn’t want to dwell on the negatives any longer. Mal was here, now and she would let herself to believe that their future would fall into place, uncomplicated.

‘You’ve never told me what you want from the future?’ She murmured quietly, ‘what would you want from our lives together?’ The woman lowered one of her hands, touching the back of his in a gentle motion. These were conversations they needed to have at some point.

‘Do you…do you want more children?’ Elyna asked softly.

He watched her study the small runestone, sure she would never use it. More than anything, he wanted her to have something to hold onto, something that would give her options in a situation she seemed trapped by. Elyna’s mother had a way of getting what she wanted and Malcolm was quite sure he was the opposite of that for her daughter.

When Elyna asked about the future, Malcolm took another taste of the wine, as if to by himself a moment to think. “Have we not discussed this?” He asked, trying to cast his mind back to their time in Mayce and the long hours they had spent on patrol in the capital. “Children?” He echoed. Malcolm searched the woman’s gaze, what if he said the wrong thing, what if she disagreed with the future he imagined for them? He looked down. It was exactly the type of talk they needed to have, the type of things they needed to share before they were married.

“Children.” Malcolm said again. “Children are a big commitment. They require a lot of time.” Time he wasn’t sure he had now that he was a captain. He had to tell her the truth, his truth and let her weigh that for herself. “It would mean the world to me to create life with you, if that’s something we both want.” He looked at her again then, did she want children? “But if you decide children are not for you… well, I think I’ve made it quite clear I’ll support your lifestyle and the dreams you have, whatever they are now and in future.”

“Do you want children?” He asked her.

Malcolm took his drink and Elyna hid a smile behind her own. Was this a rare moment that she had thrown the man out of his stride? Was Malcolm on the verge of being flustered? Everything he said and did was so considered. It was something she loved about him, but it was good to pull him off balance every so often.

With a lingering glance at the man from over her shoulder, Elyna padded back to the bed with her wine in hand. She eased back onto the mattress, tucking one leg beneath herself, the other dangling over the side as she took her own sip of wine. She watched the thoughts that he kept to himself, saw him weighing his words and the worry that crossed his features. Was he afraid he would lose her somehow? His gaze was fixed on her own, and Elyna offered a small smile, one of curiosity and without judgement.

‘When we were on patrol…you knew me as Reyes, and you were Bennett,’ she reminded him quietly, ‘Reyes could never have any hopes for the future. I’m an expert in avoiding topics beyond my reach Bennett.’ She teased gently. Maybe the Captain who had visited earlier had found the right Skyrider after all. Elyna was used to juggling various faces and personalities whilst staying detached from herself.

‘I know that in your heart you’re a dreamer, that you would prefer to live among books and ancient research - maybe even teach it.’ Elyna curled her hands around her glass, ‘I know you’d be an amazing teacher…and I worry that you will never give yourself the freedom to follow that path.’ Her mouth twitched in another rueful smile. She would give him the world if she could.

‘Children,’ Elyna studied the ruby liquid within the glass once more, tilting her head to the side. ‘They’re such an assumed part of nobility. I always resented that…’ she sank her teeth into her bottom lip before lifting her gaze to meet his, ‘I’ve had a lot of time to think since then…a-and not right now. N-not straight away,’ she flushed ‘but I would. I would love to have children with you.’

It seemed suddenly embarrassing and she took a hasty sip. Anything to busy herself. The wine burnt the back of her throat and she coughed into her hand. Taking the time to find her composure Elyna drew up her knee and rested her hand upon it, ‘you promise me so much, Malcolm…how do I support you, love? How do I make your life a happy one?’ Once they finally were able to be together. She stifled a small yawn behind her hand. Time was marching on without them. But if this was going to be her last night with Malcolm in seasons, she would use every moment.

This was nice, Malcolm thought, and not nearly as nerve-racking as he had imagined when Elyna had first brought the topic up. “Of course,” he agreed, she was young, she had aspirations and goals of her own; a great deal of things to accomplish before considering children. Malcolm could respect and would honour that.

“I’d like to reach the rank of Warden,” he admitted, “before I retire one day and consider taking up teaching.” He had been thinking about the future he wanted for himself for a while now. He knew he would eventually slow down and that the long trips and cold nights would eventually catch up with him.

Malcolm stood up and stepped away from the table, ready to join Elyna once more when there came another knock at the door, this one less jolting than the last. Malcolm went to the door and opened it quickly without reaching for his weapons.

“Oh, it was your horse,” a familiar voice said.

“Benjamin?” Malcolm greeted him, hesitant. “What are you doing here?”

“Owen noticed you were gone so we went looking. Can we come in?”

“No!” The word escaped Malcolm much more abruptly than he had intended. “Give me a moment…” He said.”

The knight closed the door and sighed, his hand still pressed to the wooden divide, as if he half expected the pair to let themselves in, despite his wishes. He looked at Elyna as he reached for his belt. A moment later it was fastened. He went to her, wasting no time. His kiss was tender but passionate. “By the seven… I will miss you every day until you’re in my arms again,” he told her. “You always wanted to travel…” he added after a short pause, looking to make the best of an unfortunate situation.”

He rose to perfect the minor imperfections of his uniform, making sure it was just so. Malcolm reminded himself that he was to make no promises or ask any of her. “Be well,” were his parting words, “and go with my love.”

The gentle peace they’d found stretched out in possibilities and their hope for their future together. A time when Malcom would retire? She almost giggled, ready to tease that he was far too young to think such thoughts. But if it would allow him the career he wanted, then she would be happy for him. Warden though, that would be a lot of work. Elyna smiled, proud of the man she loved and his ambition.

Their time was shattered by the intrusion and she set her wine aside. Paler than she had been, Elyna lent into the kiss, but she refused to cling to him. To wrap her arms around him and hang on as though her life depended on it. Her heart jolted in uncomfortable beats, so it was Ben and Owen who had found them. In some ways it was far worse, and far better than she had imagined.

She followed his steps across the room, reaching out before he made it to the door. Her fingers curled over his shoulder as she looked up at him, the linen soft beneath her touch. ‘If…if they prevent my return, somehow…‘ she forced herself to meet his gaze. ‘Malcolm if I can’t come back…marry someone who makes you laugh,‘ her mouth twitched as she struggled to keep rein on her despair.

She withdrew then and shook herself. ‘Be safe,’ Elyna wished him.

Malcolm stopped and half turned to face the door, though his eyes were on Elyna. He frowned. “Elyna I would happily go to my grave unwed. I didn’t choose you because marriage was a requirement I needed to fill, it was what I wanted… with you. There is no one else, there will never be another you,” he told her. “If you don’t come home, you’ll force me to break my oath to the king, and come find you. If you’re not in my arms come frost…”

There was only a step between them and he closed it in an instant to press a kiss to her cheek. “Come home to me.”

He was gone after that, like mist in the valley, moved on by the dawn. There followed a short bout of loud chatter from his brothers before he moved them on too. On the table, leaning against the stem of his empty wine glass, there was a small envelope closed with a black wax seal, the wolf image at its centre brushed with gold. The letter inside was more of a note, handwritten on a folded piece of paper not much bigger than the woman’s palm. The note contained the names Godric and Fredric Bennett and their address. If you ever get into trouble, it read, please visit my cousins in Rhode.


Caelin beamed at her daughter from the docks and gave an elegant wave as their servants carried case after case of dresses and wigs onto the ship. “We set sail within the hour,” she said. “Oh Elyna, do stand up straight.”

Far later and most of the day into their journey, the captain led them to the small but well lit dining room for dinner. It was there Caelin decided to address her daughter's sour look. “Do smile, child. For the seven’s sake, you act as if I send you to your doom. A season of parties, fine wine and dining is not the end of the world. Besides, it’s high time we put some distance between you and the duke. He was not born to that title, you know. There is nothing to say he shall keep it should the king die or be overthrown before the prince comes of age.”

Caelin looked about herself before saying such things, even she had the sense to be careful of such talk. As it was, the pair seemed to have the dining room to themselves as the crew chose to eat later and never in the company of nobles.

“You do realise, Elyna, that any children you were to have with the man would inherit nothing? It will all go to his sons, tradition and the king, no doubt, will see to that. Even if you gave him a son, and I dread to think what would happen to a daughter,” she sighed and snapped her fan open as if to air such thoughts from her person, now that they had been given breath.

“You know how shrouded in scandal he is. Some say the future king was conceived out of wedlock. Honestly a child is not born so soon after marriage and thought fit to survive. Is that what you want for this family after the disgrace of your uncle, to burden your father and I with penniless bastards? And grace… think of the younger boy… to take his mother in labour. Those men of Krome sire very large offspring. Brutes!” The wave of her fan flapped even faster at the thought. “I simply request that you explore and consider your options, my dear. It wouldn’t kill you to wait another summer. A few seasons ago you didn’t even want marriage at all and now you’ve fallen for the first man that danced with you. Good grief, if only you could have seen me in my prime… your father had a real challenge on his hands chasing me,” Caelin gloated, though Pavoo might tell it differently.

“Was that Elyna?” Ben asked. Malcolm gave no reply.

“Of course it was Elyna,” Owen answered for him, “was it not?” Still no reply. “By the seven!” Owen said, “who was it?”

Benjamin looked thoughtful for a spell before speaking. “I swear I heard Elyna?”

“I couldn’t make out anything,” Owen said, “what did she say?”

Malcolm gave a silent scoff and lifted his gaze skyward before it settled on the horizon again. There was little to hear but the sound of their horses hooves meeting the compacted gravel road below them. “It’s none of your concern.” He finally said.

“Seven…” Ben whispered. “I thought you had asked Elyna to marry you? Did you change your mind? Are you bedding someone else?”

“There was no bedding!”

“Thanks be to us!” Owen cheered.

“But if it wasn’t Elyna, then who?”

“That’s none of your concern,” Malcolm said, his tone harsh now as if he were fed up with their interrogation.

“It was a woman, the voice definitely belonged to a woman,” Benjamin said.

Malcolm’s brow knotted with deep concern. “What in all of Noar does that mean!”

“Benjamin thinks you’re humping Jared,” Owen explained, “I told him that wasn’t right, impossible—“

“He didn’t say impossible,” Benjamin interrupted, “he said something along the lines of, believe me, I’d know.”

A chaos of chatter and fighting broke out between the brothers before each of them realised they couldn’t hear the other and all fell into an uneasy silence.

“So it wasn’t Elyna?” Owen asked.

“And you aren’t humping Jared?” Ben added.

“Night!” Malcolm replied in a voice like thunder. “Mind your own business and focus on the task at hand!” He kicked his horse and the animal sped up into a gallop, forcing the pair to give chase or be content with the dust and silence they were left with.