His callous implications towards Sophia sent Beon into a blinding rage, and he drew his sword, raised it over his head, and brought it down on Sir Percy. But the knight grabbed Beon’s wrist with a swiftness and strength that surprised him, their faces inches apart. Sir Percy smiled and shoved Beon backward so that he smacked against the opposite wall of the corridor.
“I’m going to forgive this infraction because of your obvious feelings for the girl, but let me give you some sound advice. Keep your head, Master Everard. Literally.”
Father’s angry voice greeted Sophia as unconsciousness began to loosen its grip on her, and she opened her eyes. Blinking, she took in her surroundings. As her vision cleared of sleep, she noticed Marcel listening as Father ranted about something Beon had done. While she had heard him complain about Beon in the past, she listened more carefully as she tried to remember why she was sleeping during the day and why Father and Marcel were in her chamber.
When Father looked her way and noticed she was awake, he growled in his typical way, “Make yourself presentable. You must come before the king immediately for his blessing on your marriage.”
With her thoughts still foggy, Sophia was utterly speechless as she tried to process what her father had just said.
“Marriage?” she managed to ask, frowning at how coarse her voice sounded.
“To Sir Percy.” When she stared at him, dumbfounded and trying to sit upright, he ground out, “I told you to stop dallying and make yourself presentable.”
Trying to steady herself, and trying to give herself time to process this, she scooted toward the edge of the mattress and dropped her feet to the floor. With hands braced on either side of her hips, she asked, “I don’t remember agreeing to that.”
“He asked for your hand. I agreed to it, and there is nothing more to discuss. You are now betrothed,’ he said as though she were quite daft.
“I agreed to no such thing,” she argued.
Father frowned at her for so long, she began to squirm under the pressure, and then he began to laugh. It wasn’t a jovial sound at all but more of a mocking laughter that made her feel small.
Sophia opened her mouth to protest the arrangement yet again, when Marcel said, “Sir Percy is the better choice by far.”
“What? Better than whom?”
“Beon, of course.”
“That worthless boy is still a page, or have you forgotten that?” Father asked Marcel as though she weren’t sitting right there.
That’s when the memories came flooding back, and she gasped, her eyes going wide. “Beon is alive?”
Again, they stared at her.
“He’s really alive?” she repeated when the silence stretched on.
“It does not matter if he is alive or not, Sophia.”
Yes, it does! she thought, feeling elated, confused and frustrated all at once.
“Both men asked for your hand,” explained Marcel. “But Father has made the choice for you, as is his place to do so.”
“Beon asked for my hand?” she asked, her heart soaring at the thought.
Shaking his head, Father said, “Don’t look so pleased, my dear. Beon left you behind rather than challenge me when I gave him my answer.”
Again, struggling to comprehend information that did not fit what she knew of Beon, Sophia just sat there as her world caved in around her. Unable to meet their eyes, she stared down at her lap as the tears began to fall.
“Prepare yourself to meet the king so he may grant his blessing or I might be tempted to beat you back into unconsciousness for being so damn insolent. And stop your weeping. I will not tolerate such weakness.”
Shocked, horrified, and confused, Sophia continued staring at her lap, unable to control the tears that would not stop flowing as Father and Marcel left the chamber.
Chapter 14
An Exchange of Prisons
In a way, Sophia would say she felt like a ghost as she walked the corridors of Bamborough Castle. How could she not feel dead inside? It had been the longest fortnight of her life because she hadn’t heard from Beon since learning he was alive, so what Father had said must be true. Beon must have abandoned her. She couldn’t blame him, could she? Dealing with Father’s rants would drive anyone away. It was foolish of her to think otherwise, and she knew that. She knew quite well this was just how things were and she was powerless to change it.
She longed to go back to the convent, but Father had also refused that request. With his face going a disturbing shade of red, she’d understood it was time for her to stop fighting it.
Perhaps she was overreacting and would be quite happy with Sir Percy, but even as she thought that, it seemed unrealistic. Despite his elevated title, handsome face, and wealth, he just didn’t appeal to her. He never had, and would never hold her heart. A heavy sigh escaped her, and she let her fingers glide along the wall as she slowly made her way to the garden.
Sophia, just like any other day, walked amongst the hedges, blind to the beauty there. The roses seemed to have lost their vibrancy and scent. The birds could not catch her attention with their song. The air felt stifling. The storm clouds seemed to enjoy matching her sullen mood, as though they mocked her with their raindrops and dreary shades of gray.
However, the sky was clear and blue today, and the sun was reaching its fingers into almost every crevice of the garden. Even still, Sophia felt like a lifeless stone. The sun taunting her with its rays and saying, I’m surrounding you with warmth, and yet you’re still cold inside.
It didn’t matter how happily the sun shone, Sophia found that her mind naturally gravitated toward the worst possible outcome in any situation of import. But that was only because the worst possible thing always did happen. Her heart had broken when she’d heard of Beon’s father and Sir Lyndon not surviving the Hundred Year War. Her heart had broken for Beon as well. She’d mourned just as she assumed he must be mourning.
With arms wrapped around herself, Sophia paused when her eyes fell onto a shadow stretching out toward her on the path. It was in the shape of a bird and hadn’t been there on her previous walks. When she lifted her eyes and saw the boxwood casting the shadow, she blinked. There, towering above her and limned in golden sunshine, was a sculpture of a bird just like the wooden magpie Beon had given her so many years ago. Having abandoned the bird within a box she kept in her bedchamber, just as Beon had abandoned her, she did not have it in her pocket to compare the two.
She knew with absolute certainty that this had not been here before.
“He’s back?” she whispered as her first smile in days captured her mouth. Sophia turned and then stopped abruptly when she saw that two more shrubs had been carved into new shapes as well. These hedges had been sculpted into the shape of two people, a man and woman facing each other, holding hands. It was stunning, and Sophia thought it was the most beautiful sculpture yet. She would say it was even better than the one Beon and Sir Lyndon had created on their last night on the island, which was a series of several seashells alongside one another, culminating in an open oyster with a pearl nestled within its mantle.
“Beon?” she called quietly, hoping he was still nearby.
Truth be told, Sophia had wanted to shout his name, but couldn’t risk such a thing if Father happened to be nearby.
When he didn’t answer, she said it again, “Beon, where are you?”
Sophia waited and waited, and he did not appear. If she lingered any longer the sunlight would burn her pale skin, a curse of having auburn hair. With her shoulders sagging and her thoughts in turmoil, Sophia decided it was best for her to make her way back inside.
When she returned to her bedchamber, feeling ill and thinking she might skip supper, she froze when she noticed a man stretched out upon her bed. In a casual pose, his arms were tucked behind his head and his legs were crossed. Sophia stepped forward to get a better look at his face.
“Beon!” Sophia clapped both hands over her mouth when she realized she’d practically shou
ted his name. “What are you doing?” she whispered, casting a glance toward the door nervously. When no one entered, she turned back to him and lowered her hands.
“I’m here to kidnap you.”
She glanced at the door once more. “I...um, I don’t think that will go over well with my father.”
“Your father can rot in Hell. I’m not letting you marry Sir Percy.”
“But I don’t have a choice in the matter.”
“Yes, you do.”
“You know I don’t.”
“Come here,” he said, ignoring her.
Sophia’s eyes widened at the huskiness in his voice, confused by the way the rumbling sound made her feel inside. “Whilst you lay upon my bed? ‘Tis scandalous.”
“Because you almost became a nun or because you don’t love me?” he asked, lifting one dark eyebrow.
“You know I love you,” she breathed.
“Then what are you waiting for?” he asked, his arms outstretched as he sat upright.
What was she waiting for? And why had she ever believed he’d abandoned her? Based on the look he was sending her way, the thought seemed silly now.
Moving to him, she struggled to fight off the sadness within her. Father would kill him if he found out he was here and he would eventually find out since there was plenty of evidence on display in the garden.
When she got close enough for him to reach her, his hand shot out, and he dragged her onto the bed with him. Sophia gasped, but couldn’t bring herself to pull away as his arms enveloped her. She was again reminded of how his warmth could penetrate her soul even in those guarded places the sunlight couldn’t reach.
She found herself hugging him back and snuggling against his shoulder. “Is this really happening? Are you really here?”
“I agree that it feels like a dream,” he whispered, his fingers caressing her hair along with his breath as the heat of his exhale touched her skin. “But it’s not a dream. You’ll let me kidnap you, won’t you?”
Worry for his safety brought her head up, and she peered into his warm brown eyes, wishing reality wasn’t what it was. “Father will have you hung, or he just might end you himself.”
“I’ll end him first if he’s foolish enough to try it.”
“But my father is powerful and strong...”
“Ouch,” he said, frowning at her for the first time since she’d seen him there upon her bed. “Do you really have so little faith in my skills?”
“I’ve lost faith in everything, to be perfectly honest.”
“How is it you’re the one who has lost faith when you’ve lived amongst people who are shining examples of conviction, when my life has been consumed by the practice of war?”
Sophia had no response for that. Partly because she was so surprised and partly because he was absolutely right.
“Your bedchamber is an absolute disaster, by the way. How can you find anything amongst so much clutter?”
She laughed, taking in the many garments littering her floor, draped over the chair beside the fire, and the collections of shells covering just about every table and window ledge available. “What? Now you’re complaining about the cleanliness of my chamber when you snuck in, uninvited like a bandit?”
“Well, I am here to steal something.”
“Me, as you said before.”
“That’s right.”
“And what if I refuse for your own safety?”
He set her aside so he could rise from the bed and stretch one hand out to her. “We just went over that, didn’t we? Or do I need to repeat myself?”
Sophia was tempted to take his hand, but she knew what Father was like. He would never let this be. Beon could end up dead, and she couldn’t live with herself if she ever let that happen. “No,” she said, folding her arms over her chest to keep from throwing herself into his arms.
“‘No’ we haven’t been over it, ‘no’ you don’t need me to repeat it, or ‘no’ you won’t let me kidnap you like a proper Neanderthal?”
She found herself laughing but shook her head. “No, I’m...I’m just going to stay and marry Sir Percy...to save you.”
Scooping her up from the bed, he said, “I’m not giving you a choice in the matter.”
“Tell me something else I don’t already know.”
Beon gave her a stern look for that. “Could you be any more stubborn?”
“No, because you’re easily more stubborn than me.”
“I guess you’re right, but that suits me just fine,” he said as he strode toward the secret passageway in Mother’s solar, that led to the chapel, that would get them outside unseen.
Fearing for his life, she resisted more fervently. Sophia tried to push away, but he held her fast. She beat her fists against his chest and kicked her legs to no avail. Beon simply held her, waiting, as though her thrashing about wasn’t a struggle for him in the least. Finally, she stopped and said, “I missed you so much.”
“And I you, my little songbird.”
Just before he ducked into the passageway, he lowered his lips to hers and kissed her so sweetly she knew she would die if she lost him again.
Once they arrived at a little hunting cottage that was hidden within the woods, Beon drew her into his embrace again, crushing her tightly to his chest.
After Beon had started a fire in the hearth, he turned to face her. As she read the intensity within his expression, Sophia wasn’t quite sure what to do, or how to react to him.
“Are we ever going to go back?” she found herself asking.
“Wouldn’t that defeat the point of kidnapping you?”
“I guess it would,” she answered. Sophia couldn’t imagine what Father would do when he found out she was gone. Just thinking about it was frightening enough, so she forced herself not to.
“Are you going to kiss me again?”
“Do you think kidnappers kiss their victims?”
“I honestly wouldn’t know. And I don’t feel like a victim.” Father made her feel victimized, but Beon never had.
“The sun has set,” he said as he drew closer, lifting one hand to glide the backs of his fingers over her cheek.
Sophia bit her lip and smiled. “So I noticed.”
“Should we turn in for the night?”
She glanced over her shoulder at the one bed in the cottage. “My father would not—”
“Let’s not talk about that man, shall we?”
Beon was right, she didn’t want to talk about Father either.
When she didn’t say anything, Beon removed his boots and moved to the bed, stretching out over it. “Are you joining me?” he asked with that husky voice again.
Sophia hesitated. His earlier question about what she wanted came back to her mind. She didn’t need to think for long to know that she wanted Beon in her life forever and moved forward, removed her slippers, and crawled onto the mattress with him.
They kissed for a while and they talked quietly long into the night.
Sophia wasn’t sure when she’d fallen asleep. All she knew was that sleeping while surrounded by his arms and the entire length of his body touching hers, felt like the most blissful slumber she’d had since the Priory.
Sophia awoke from her dreams to an odd noise and she searched the moonlit room for the source of that sound. Rising from the shadows like a demon from Hell was Sir Percy. A patch of moonlight illuminated the smirk upon his mouth. As silently as a wraith, he moved forward to loom above them.
Reflexively, Sophia opened her mouth to scream, but with a movement so fast his arm was a blur, he silenced her and lifted a finger to his lips. “If you don’t wish for me to drain every ounce of blood from Beon’s body, then you will allow me to return you to Bamborough where you belong...for our wedding ceremony.”
Her lips opened in a silent scream when he grinned and she saw the fangs visible within his mouth. Sophia immediately remembered the monster that had murdered the peasant on that darkened road so many years ago.
&n
bsp; The demon, the pestilence, the creature from Hell elusively evading detection for so long, was Sir Percy.
When he bent forward and his eyes locked onto hers, Sophia felt herself going limp, any strength she may have possessed draining from her limbs. As the evil magic within his gaze overpowered her, Sophia could do nothing as this demon unraveled her from Beon’s sleepy embrace and carried her limp form away into the night.
Chapter 15
If One Cannot Overpower, Then Outwit
Ever since that awful night when Sophia had been kidnapped twice, her anxiety had been steadily rising. Father had no idea she’d even gone missing, and he so often paid little attention to things around him that he hadn’t noticed Beon’s sculpted shrubs either. Just looking at them pinched her heart with sadness.
As Sir Percy had carried her through the night, Sophia had discovered a lot about his inhuman powers that shed light on past mysteries. He had traveled so incredibly fast it was as though he’d somehow used the wind to carry them along. He’d occasionally expelled his breath into her face, and the fragrance of it was so magically intoxicating, she hated herself for wanting more of it. Sophia quickly realized that he’d used this potion like breath to subdue the peasant he had taken on the road. As it overpowered her in the same way, Sophia had wondered if she was about to suffer the same fate. But as the days had passed, she’d come to believe she wasn’t just food to Sir Percy.
Once they’d returned to Bamborough Castle, he’d brought her inside with more stealth than any thief, and tucked her into bed. Because of the evil magic within him, she was powerless to move or even speak. She’d fallen asleep quickly and only realized the spell had released her by the time the sun awoke her the next day.
Knowing Beon would come to take her back, she’d sent a missive with one of Father’s squires explaining what had happened. She hadn’t see Beon since.
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