[ CHAPTER TWENTY-SEVEN ]

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1002, southern france

Cheeks burnished with a humiliated pink, Aubrianne scuttled away from the group of pretentious noble Ladies, ignoring their taunting giggles as she kept her gaze on the floor

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Cheeks burnished with a humiliated pink, Aubrianne scuttled away from the group of pretentious noble Ladies, ignoring their taunting giggles as she kept her gaze on the floor.

After Lady Astrid had left her side to go and see her husband, the noble Ladies had decided they no longer needed to keep their polite act up.

Instead of ignoring her presence, they had begun teasing and mocking her, calling her Tristan's little slave. Their words had been hurtful and cruel.

Though her eyes were damp with tears, she refused to shed them. She wouldn't cry for those horrid women.

Aubrianne was so caught up in her thoughts she barely watched her path as she slammed into a firm chest, falling to the ground.

Lady Astrid's dress! She jumped to her feet, ignoring the outstretched hand as she began dusting off the back of the dress. No doubt the dry mud had stained the peach fabric. Would Lady Astrid be mad at her?

"I'm so sorry, My Lady." A polite, masculine voice spoke up, making Aubrianne jolt in surprise.

She had almost forgot she had bumped into someone as she glanced up, eyes widening at the sight of Lady Astrid's brother-in-law.

"I-I..."

The Lord Elijah was even more handsome up close, his jaw-line sharp enough to cut through graphite.

He narrowed his eyes, fingers wiping away the single escapee tear as he frowned, glancing behind her.

He caught sight of the giggling noble women sat with Lady Aurora, they were all looking at Aubrianne, though they quickly glanced away when they noticed Elijah staring.

"Has something bothered you, my Lady?" He asked in concern.

Elijah had never liked seeing a woman in distress. He had seen his own sister and mother shed streams of tears before, so it hurt him to see any woman crying.

Especially such a delicate and very pretty young woman like the one before him. He didn't recognize her; he certainly would have recalled seeing such a beauty in Court.

"I'm- I'm no Lady, M'Lord." She murmured.

She was clearly embarrassed as he arched a brow. "Pardon?"

"I'm Lady Astrid's handmaiden, M'Lord."

'Hmm', that was news to him. Elijah hadn't known his sister-in-law had adopted a handmaiden during their stay.

"Surely a woman as fair as you should be considered a Lady." He commented, sending her a small smile as her cheeks flushed pink.

She momentarily forgot all about the cruel words spoken by the Ladies as she shifted uncomfortably on her feet. "I-I, I don't know what to say, M'Lord."

𝐖𝐈𝐂𝐊𝐄𝐃 𝐆𝐀𝐌𝐄, klaus mikaelsonWhere stories live. Discover now