She sat at the large table during supper and listened to the battle stories of Joseph, Gavins man-at-arms. Her eye's never left the burly man's face as he revealed detail after detail of their fights during war. She was entralled with the tales of how they fought for king and country. Ever so often, she would laugh at what he said and others followed, listening to the stories. Haroun passed by chuckling at their latest attempt to twist the tale abit to sound heroic just for her.
The stories moved on to training in the bailey. Squires sat by nay saying each others stories and telling events as it happened.
"T'is not true, he fumbled because he was passed his cups," Ian pipped out correcting Marcus's rendition of their last training.
"Not true I only had a sip of wine," he scowled.
"Hogging the tankard is not a sip, Marcus," Haroun corrected with a grin.
The hearty laughter shook the hall.
Lost in the revelry and banter of the men, Brienna never noticed the sensual silver eyes that observed her. Until she glanced over to him.
She caught his gaze and her heart skipped a rattling beat. There was something in his gaze that swiftly disappeared and was replaced by a smile. Was she imaging his glare or was it the wine muddling her senses?
******
He sat at the far end of the table watching her beneath hooded eyes often pretending to listen to Augustus' prattle. He was mesmerized by her laughter and how with wide eyes she innocently took in their adventurous tales on the battlefield. Hazel eyes with long black lashes, danced with excitement of new found knowledge within the stories. She looked breathtaking.
All sorts of torrid thoughts swam in his head and his cock was growing hard with each image.
How he wished the myterious girl in the green cloak were her.
Bloody letch she is your charge !
With a sigh he squirmed in his chair to relieve the throbbing sensation in his cock and took a gulp of his wine then looked at her again.
Then, hazel eyes connected with his.
His breath caught in his throat.
Sweet Mother ! he was going to need a willing maiden tonight.
*****
After supper, he retired to his solar. With a slouch he plopped onto a chair near the large window that overlooked the nearby waterway that lead to the river. The moon no where to be found, gave the night a darkness that could hide anything. Slowly he stood to pour some more wine. Drinking little by little to dull his earlier thoughts he walked over to his chair and sat stretching his tired limbs he slowly sipped his wine. So much passed his mind and all he could think of was them. Brienna and The mysterious maiden in the green cloak. One he coul not find and one he could not touch. Slowly his eyes shut remembering the softness of her lips and aroma of her hair. How he desperately wanted to meet her again, just to caress her and feel her in his arms. There was just something about her that peeked his interest and he needed to know what it was. Was it because he could not see her face? With no lead no one around has heard or seen such girl. He did not know even the color of her hair only the silky feel of it. But he prayed he would find her.
Slowly standing to walk off the effects of the wine he neared the opened window to get some air. The wines effects and feeling he swore was playing jests with his vision as he looked down to the farside of the garden.
It was her!
She slowly tiptoed through the gates and walked off towards the wooded area nearby blocking his view.
YOU ARE READING
Rebellious Angel
Historical FictionIt all began with a promise While his good friend lay in his arms dying, the last words that came from his lips were "Please find Brienna and take care of her." He was entrusted with his friends' young daughter. With that promise, Gavin has come t...
