King and Lionheart

King

"Well," Lily slowed to a stop at the castle gates. "You can leave me here."

They did not talk much throughout their walk through the city. Diarmuid, however, did notice that she was hiding her face from the crowd, and she acted instead peculiarly, almost as if she were some sort of criminal.

"I can walk you all the way. Since it is my day off, I have nothing much to do." He straightened, taking a stand in front of her.

Lily glanced at the castle and shook her head. "No," she dryly replied, "there's no need to."

The gate was rather busy for an ordinary morning; people were walking through, in and out of the castle. Diarmuid nearly thought there was some sort of fair.

Lily fanned herself for the sun was much too strong, and she was feeling hotter. "I should be heading inside. And you must go...wherever you're needed, good sir."

Diarmuid extended his hand.

Lily stared at it for a short while before she reached over to take it. She watched, embarrassed to say the least, as he brought her hand to his lips and set a kiss upon it.

"It was an honour to meet you, my lady," he mumbled against her knuckles. He lowered her hand but didn't pull away just yet. "I hope we can see more of each other in the upcoming days."

"I fear that might not be possible, dear knight." Her cheeks were set ablaze with a blush, one that Diarmuid found quite charming.

"And why is that?"

She stared at him. "The lady Morgana told me you were to stay away from women. Especially ones that are soon to wed."

Diarmuid dropped her hand immediately as if her touch scorched him. "You...you are to wed soon?"

Lily nodded. "Yes, with a farmer boy. A childhood friend of mine, he is such a charming young man." By this point, she was cursing herself for pulling lies out of her mouth, but it was all she could do to make her eyes not linger on him.

"I see...well, I wish you happiness, my lady." He bowed and then offered her a smile.

Lily felt her heart swell.

It was the fault of a farmer pushing past her that made her stumble on her footing and trip over the folds of her dress; she cursed long skirts and the poorly set roads, she would have to make a decree to get them fixed yearly. Luckily, before she could tumble to the floor and earn any bruises or scratches that Diarmuid might've caught onto in the future, the handsome knight managed to catch her midway into her fall.

It was mostly a blur in Lily's eyes, but she felt the strong arms holding her in place, she looked up through her golden fringe and stared at his amber eyes. What was happening? She cleared her throat and found her footing again, pulling from him and dusting herself off, frankly embarrassed.

"Thank you. I should be going...I am wanted. Farewell." She mumbled and then ran off into the castle, not daring to look back over at the man she had left behind.

Lily panted as she hid behind a stone column in the kitchen entryway. Her heart was thumping faster than any sparing she had ever done; it felt as if she'd run a thousand miles. Why was adrenaline coursing through her veins and a knot forming in her gut over the mere pitiful interaction with Diarmuid? One of her knights? She shook her head and drew a shaky breath.

These thoughts were dangerous. Lily shouldn't be thinking this way about a knight of hers. In fact, how many men had she ever come across as handsome and charming as Diarmuid? Probably more than a handful, so why was she out of breath when Diarmuid steadied her? Well, he was much more handsome than any other knight she'd known⁠—oh, stop it! She was out of breath because she ran in a dress! Not because of him!