Twin Curse(6)

Her eyes widened and flew to his, the shock on her face confirming that it was a completely new feeling to her.

He stared into her eyes, fascinated by how they glinted green in the  light of the lanterns, mirroring the colour he'd seen in her aura  earlier. His earlier awkwardness faded, and he knew this was something  more than just the surprise at finding a mage here on the mainland.

She jerked her hand back as though stung. Her expression changed so  dramatically, that he instinctively stepped back, sure the door was  going to hit his nose as she slammed it.

Had he pushed her too far? But she'd been the one to offer her hand to  him. It was just the shock of their magic touching that had surprised  her, that had to be it. If he gave her a little while to get used to the  idea, she'd realise how amazing it was.

He wanted to tell her now, to explain it all, but he hardly knew her.  And she didn't know him. He needed to take it slowly. So he took a quiet  breath and made himself say calmly, "Goodnight, Brianna."

For a moment, he thought she wasn't going to reply. Then she said quietly, "Goodnight, Lyall."

He stepped back, and she hesitated a moment before closing the door.  Crossing the short distance across the hall to his room, he was still  conscious of her presence behind the other door. How would he sleep  knowing she was so close?

He closed the door behind him and sank against it, knees suddenly weak.

He‘d just taken a great risk, one his father would have severely scolded  him for. Seeking out a potentially hostile and powerful mage did not  make any sort of sense. But that wasn't the reason for his lack of  ability to stand.

The way her magic had slid through him, as though it could see into  every corner of his being, was unbelievable. He'd never experienced  anything like it before.

Even after he moved to the bed and lay down, it was a long time before he could sleep.





Brianna threw another pitchfork full of spoilt hay into the wheelbarrow,  then glanced over her shoulder. The stable courtyard was as empty as it  had been last time she looked. When she realised what she was doing,  she scowled. She'd offered to muck out the stables this morning to avoid  seeing the young man from last night.

It would be far better for both of them if he headed off to whatever  task had brought him to the city without them seeing each other again.  There was no point pining over something that couldn't be.         

     



 

She forced herself to focus on the task at hand. Though the rain of the  previous night had passed, its evidence was left behind in the form of  wet, smelly hay. There was more than enough work to keep her busy for  several hours.

After a while, the monotony of the task soothed her racing mind. She  settled into a comfortable rhythm. Dig, lift, throw. Move onto the next  stall, and repeat. Dig, lift, throw. She worked without pause.

Until a voice startled her. "I thought being a serving maid was beneath you-mucking out stables is even more so."

His voice set her heart racing even before she glanced up and saw the  man from last night, leaning against a pole watching her. He was dressed  as neatly as the night before, a stark contrast to her muddy and smelly  overalls. She turned back to dig one more forkful of hay, trying to  give herself a few moments to calm the thumping of her heart before she  turned to look at him again.

His dark hair was a little longer than the men in her village, and it  arched in even curves on both sides of his forehead. He raised his right  eyebrow slightly, his head tilted to one side. It didn't help her  composure any.

Leaning on the shovel, she focused on his words, not his looks. Feeling  almost defensive, she said, "Nothing is beneath me. How can you possibly  understand a job, or ask anyone to do it for you, if you have not done  it yourself at least once?"

He looked taken aback. But after staring at her blankly for a few  moments, a smile crinkled the corner of his mouth. "Wise words,  beautiful Brianna. In that case, I think perhaps it is time I gave it a  go then."

That was not what she had meant. She couldn't imagine him mucking out the stable in his spotless breaches and creaseless shirt.

But he was rolling up his sleeves.

"That isn't what I meant. I … " Her voice trailed off as he came across  and took the pitchfork from her. She was too surprised to stop him.

"You'll have to give me some instruction though. I've never done this before."

He shoved the fork into the muck, straight up, clearly proving her  point. She felt a guilty sense of satisfaction as he struggled to force  it through the thick hay. For a few moments, she watched him, too amused  to offer any help. He wriggled the fork until the prongs went into the  hay a little, then tried to lift it, but the prongs broke through the  wet hay, and he ended up with only a few strands of hay still clinging  to it.

He looked over at her. "Yes, I see exactly what you mean. I realised it  was an unpleasant task, but obviously there is some skill to it that I  lack. Are you going to teach me, or are you going to stand there and  laugh?"

Somehow, his easy admission of his lack of skill removed any of her  earlier irritation at his comments. She took the pitchfork from him,  careful not to let her hand touch his and starting at the edge of the  hay, shoved it underneath and lifted and threw it into the wheelbarrow  nearby with a practised move. "You have to get underneath it, not on  top." She shovelled another couple of loads to show him as he watched  intently.

"I think I have it now, may I?" He held out his hand for the fork.

"You really want to shovel hay covered in dung?" she asked in disbelief. "Your pants will get all dirty."

Lyall laughed. "I think it's too late to prevent that. And I'm  determined not to be bested by a girl." Brianna was about to bristle at  that, but he poked his tongue out at her, and she was so surprised, she  laughed instead.

"Be my guest," she said, handing him back the fork.

She watched him for a while, but he seemed to have worked it out now. He  fell to with gusto, so she fetched the second pitchfork, and they  worked together in companionable silence.

Brianna tried to focus on what she was doing, but it was impossible not  to keep glancing sideways at the man from time to time. This was the  last thing she had expected to happen this morning. Even when she had  been looking for him, she'd only expected to get a chance to glance at  his face again, to see if it captivated her as it had last night.

Yet here he was, cleaning out stalls beside her. She couldn't make him  out. He seemed so neat and tidy and correct, a little like Terion in  some ways, but then he went and surprised her by being ready to step  outside that.

But she didn't want to be intrigued. It could only lead to heartache  because she wasn't looking for a relationship. Chances were, he would be  leaving the inn in the next couple of days anyway, and she'd never see  him again. Best to concentrate on her work, and stop all this  nonsensical dreaming.

It took over two hours to make their way down to the last stall, but  Brianna had to admit the work went much faster with assistance. She'd  expected Lyall to give up after the first stall, but he worked on  without pause.         

     



 

She picked up the handles of the last wheelbarrow load, but Lyall laid his hand over hers. "Let me."

His touch sent shivers up her spine, and she quickly withdrew her hand,  nodded, and stepped back. She watched for a few moments as he wheeled  the wheelbarrow over to the muck heap. His clothes were now considerably  dirty and wrinkled, yet he looked even more appealing than he had  earlier. To distract herself from that thought, she turned away to fork  fresh hay for the horses.

He returned just as she was finishing. He'd even rinsed the wheelbarrow  clean with a bucket of water from the well. When his eyes met hers, he  said, "I'm a quick learner."

"Apparently," she agreed, disconcerted that his stare produced almost  the same reaction as his hands did. "Now you just have to hope there is  enough hot water left for you to have a bath."

"Do I smell that bad?" he asked.

She stared at him for a moment, afraid she'd insulted him. But the  twinkle in his eye said otherwise, and she burst out laughing. Was there  no end to the surprises this man produced? He joined in, and as they  walked back to the inn together, he asked, "What time do you get off?"

She'd known this was coming, but somehow, she was still surprised. Perhaps because she almost felt he was a friend.

And as a friend, she couldn't leave him thinking anything could ever  come of this. She took a deep breath. "Look, I appreciate your interest,  really, I do, but I'm not looking to get involved with anyone."

If she hadn't felt so bad or wanted to deny the attraction she felt to  him, she might have laughed at how surprised he looked. He'd stammered  like a boy last night, but this morning, he'd been all too obviously the  man. Right up until now.