Hot, sticky frustration fermented inside Delilah at that moment. Clinging to the lining of her stomach, it crawled up into her chest and clogged her composure. Heavy breaths puffed from her as the bun rolled to a stop - crumpled and ruined at a pair of boots.
Who those boots belonged to, she did not know. For another pair of boots stood in her proximity belonging to a man who blocked her vision and who's arms held onto her own to steady them both. He wore an identical uniform to Baron's guards. The same form-fitting black shirt and pants laced with gold that Jonnie had days prior. The same Goldfinch rested on his left breast, pressing against the strained fabric, but was hidden slightly behind a coal jacket - dusted over with dirt and cobwebs.
Delilah froze inside his grasp with a fear forged years ago that trembled inside her. For so long she had avoided close contact like this. Avoided even the slightest unplanned brush with the opposite sex due to a dread that consumed her thoroughly.
Daring to look up, Delilah met a familiar birch gaze. Though this time, worry wandered across his thick eyebrows; replacing the shock he displayed upon their brief first meeting.
"I'd take a step back if I were you, Nolan. My Delilah is rabid without food." A nasal laugh broke their scene and the man unhanded himself. Billie, with dirt and cobwebs also coating his dark attire, hunched over, bellowing, clearly amused by the sudden collision. "Can't - Can't you see the rage on her face!" He squealed much higher than was normal for a sixteen-year-old boy. "Quick - quick. Apologize before she loses it!"
"Billie!" Delilah hushed, finally released from her panic.
The man, Nolan, shook his head and then poised himself. Chuckling lightly, he painted a smile, slightly crooked but not in any way forced, across his cheeks. "Na, na. He's right." Delilah felt the return of her blush, embarrassment was becoming an unlikely companion to her in recent days. Nonetheless, she found herself captivated by her new acquaintance, too curious by his presence to run away as she usually would. Bowing only just, Nolan's hair flopped atop his forehead and down to the tips of his dark eyebrows. "A am truly sorry, ma lady. Would you like me to get you a new bun?"
Delilah profusely declined and thanked Nolan. She did not know whether to curtsy back or dismiss him, fumbling between the actions in an awkward jolt. And with that, Billie was in hysterics once again. Nolan seemed humoured by her behaviour too, lightly chuckling and smiling softly at her.
Desperate to shed his image of her as a villain, one she would diligently swat her cousin for later, she moved their discussion elsewhere.
"We happen to keep running into one another it seems." She addressed the guard, curious this time for his response. "Ay, it seems we do." A Short reply. But not too short as to seem curt. Delilah wanted more. More responses. More information. She thought carefully of her next words and brushed down her skirt to appear unfazed.
Could she ask of the protest? His presence there? Followed by his abrupt exit? Or perhaps she could ask about the letter? Surely he would oblige her with answers. Not leave her clueless and inept. But then there was Billie who, well within earshot, knew nothing of the tavern, the protest, or their first - abrupt - meeting. How would she explain it to him?
On the verge of pulling her thoughts together, his husky voice interrupted. "It seems Saol desires our paths to cross often." Raising a brow, Delilah entirely did not expect nor prepare for a reply as such. She blustered for a response of her own, each one was taken away before she spoke them by the infectious grin of the gentleman across from her.
"Now, now Nolan. My buddy. My pal. My guard. She, as in Delilah," Billie stood between them, a hand on Nolan the other waving up and down her body. "My cousin. Your soon-to-be boss. Is off-limits."
"Billie!" Gasping, Delilah did not know what those two were up to nor did she appreciate the mortification he was exposing her to.
"Now, now cousin." The sixteen-year-old had more bark in him than half the hounds Baron owned. "I am just protecting this innocent guard from your vicious claws." Gasping, Delilah administered the swat she was reserving for him later. Fake pain and betrayal materialized in Billie as he dramatically cowered and recoiled from her touch. "See! This...this is exactly what I'm saving you from." He reached for Nolan in a desperate plea for acknowledgment.
Delilah could not hold in a laugh any longer, giggling at her cousin's pathetic performance. Nolan soon joined her, his laugh throaty and low. All the tension she felt throughout the day slowly chipped away until only small pebbles remained.
"As joyous as it has made me swatting at you, Billie, I must get ready for the dinner." Examining her cousin one last time before excusing herself, Delilah noted the additional tears and loose thread coming from his sleeves. Billie seemed to notice her line of sight and muttered some sort of realization, brushing down himself. "And Mr...?" Nolan stood before her, about five or six inches taller. An inch or so more than Jonnie.
"Fairey"
"Mr. Fairey," Delilah hunched her shoulders back and forced herself to hold his gaze. "I hope Saol may desire us to meet again. Look after this one."
Farewells made, Delilah turned on her heel and left, not waiting for any response. Yet, an echo of an agreement reached her as she turned out of the hall and her previous hungry dissipated as she rumoured over the interaction.
ESTÁS LEYENDO
A Bullet Or Two
FantasíaWhat would you do if everything you were destined to have was taken away? Delilah Franklyn, the dutiful step-daughter to the Baron of Farhilm, was raised to take his role. Moulded to lead the prosperous East Quarter. Yet when responsibility falls in...
