Page 112 of The Robber Knight's Love
Jealousy, red, hot, and unforgiving, coursedthrough his veins. Just the thought made him want to rip somebodyapart! What if he had found out that such fears had beenunjustified? How would he feel?
That question was easy to answer.
It would be the best feeling in his entireexistence. Relief mingled with unbelievable hope. Was she feelingsomething similar at this moment? He dared to hope that was thecase. What other than utter happiness could explain her prolongedsilence?
“Ayla,” he said, gently.
Suddenly, she whipped around. Reuben had justenough time to see the tears in her eyes before she jumped out andran out of the room. He could hear her sobs from somewhere out inthe corridor.
What? He had just told her he was stillavailable, and she had run out of the room sobbing? Angrily, Reubenturned to the wall.
That was it! He had had enough of trying tofigure out women for one day.
*~*~**~*~*
It took some time for Ayla to cry herselfout. She had thought that the pain of losing Eleanor might go awaywith time, or at least might be pushed away by the more pressingconcerns of the siege, but not so. She still missed her belovedfriend just as much as on the day the diabolical red robber knighthad taken her away.
On a small bench in her little orchard, shefinally found some peace. It was a beautiful place, with ivygrowing up the wall of the keep and forming a sort of arch over theheads of those who sat on the bench, sheltering them from theworld. Her father used to sit with her here and tell her about allthe lands that were under the protection of the house of Luntberg,and of the greater nobles of the Empire, and of the time he hadbeen at the court of the Holy Roman Emperor himself.
These matters had all sounded very impressiveand weighty to Ayla back then. With big, round eyes she had sathere on this bench and listened to her father's tales. Now shecouldn't care less about emperors and grand nobles.
Well, except perhaps the one who wasbesieging her castle at the moment.
But even he, she realized, wasn't asimportant as the central question that plagued her. The questionthat was more important than the siege, or Falkenstein, or Reuben'slowly station in society. The most important question of all.
How was she going to get an answer?
Her eyes strayed to the apple trees and theirbeautiful blossoms. Why not? It was as good a method as any. Maybeit would help calm her nerves.
Getting up, she picked one of the appleblossoms and tugged at one of the petals. The soft thing came looseand fluttered to the ground.
“He loves me,” she whispered.
Another petal floated towards the earth.
“He loves me not.”
Another petal.
“He loves me.”
And another.
*~*~**~*~*
Reuben had soon grown tired of staring at thewall. He had turned instead to look out of the window and saw Aylasitting down there in the little garden. She suddenly got up, wentto one of the apple trees, and plucked a blossom. Slowly, she beganto peel it apart, petal by petal.
He frowned.
What was she doing now? Collectingingredients for some foul new medicine? But no, she didn't keep thepetals, she just let them fall to the ground. Where was the sensein that? Would he ever get to the bottom of her?
*~*~**~*~*
“...loves me not.”
And yet another.
“He loves me.”
