Page 47 of Earth Dragon
“No,” the Lady admitted. “But I assume it has something to do with this one,” she added, placing her hand on top of Ewan’s head and patting it lightly.
Shannon was glad she wasn’t eating the soup. She probably would have spit it all over herself. Ewan looked mildly amused, though he shook his head to get the crone’s hand off him. She merely smiled.
“It has everything to do with that one,” Sir Patrick confirmed. “He brought us here because I wish to perform a spell on him, and he wanted a chaperone.”
“I did not call her a chaperone.”
“It was implied,” Sir Patrick said petulantly.
“I do not trust him,” Ewan stated, eyes on Sir Patrick, though he was clearly speaking to Lady Marigold.
She lifted her eyebrows, turning those beady eyes on Sir Patrick. She narrowed them, then slowly stood from her chair to approach him. Once she was in front of him, she leaned forward, eyeing him closely. Finally, she smiled and gently patted his hand.
She turned to Ewan.
“He speaks true,” she said. “He has been on a journey and that journey has landed him here. Come,” she added, reaching her hand out for him to take.
Ewan hesitated but did as he had been asked. The moment his fingers touched the lady’s, his eyes closed, and he gave a soft gasp. It only took another breath before he opened them again, but when he did his eyes were wide. They went to Sir Patrick, who lifted one shoulder in a shrug.
Shannon wondered what memories Ewan had been shown.
“Spare you the trouble of spell work,” the lady said with a wink at Sir Patrick. “Now, then, what’s this urgency you speak of?” she asked.
“As you’ve seen for yourself why we’re here, then surely you understand the limited time in which we can act.”
“Oh?” the lady asked. “Because here I thought you have just hidden away the most important component to the plot against the crowned heads working. There is a reason the elemental magic hasn’t simply been plucked from the current ruling heads, isn’t there? The moment of transference is the key. When there is a rushing into newness and a willingness within the elemental magics to embrace that newness, recognizing that it’s time for a change. Like the seasons themselves know when it’s time to grow lush and green and when it’s time to prepare for the frost.”
“Yes, true,” Sir Patrick had to concede.
“So, then, eat your soup in peace, sir knight, and tell me how you find it,” Lady Marigold encouraged. “There is yet time for all that must be done.”
“We cannot stay here to buy time,” Ewan said. “My father will sound the alarm if he things I am missing from the castle.”
“He won’t,” Lady Marigold said. “Not if he does not know that you’re missing.”
“And how is he supposed to think I’m not?”
“Leave that to me,” she smiled. “Would you like to have baldpox or wheat sickness?”
She didn’t wait for a response before she waved her fingers in the air with a half-smile at Ewan’s oh-shaped mouth. He jerked as if expecting a spell to hit him, spilling soup on his lap and rising to his feet with a yell of annoyance.
Shannon huffed a laugh, getting his eyes on her with a glare of warning. She killed off the smile, hoping that her expression looked contrite enough.
Serves you right, she thought.For not believing in me.
She felt a hand on her shoulder and turned her head to the lady, who smiled and nodded at the untouched bowl on her own lap. “Eat,” the lady encouraged.
Shannon reached for the spoon, remembering the first meal she had sat down to at the castle. It was strange to think that it was a mere few days ago. Ewan was still swearing under his breath and headed for the doorway through which Lady Marigold had appeared earlier.
He seemed to know his way around the house without hesitation and seemed to be moving through it as though it was his own. She wondered what the lady was to him. Nursemaid, perhaps? Or nanny.
Shannon’s gaze trailed him as he disappeared from sight through the doorway after asking the lady for some direction to dry clothes, which apparently could be found in the second linen closet on the left. He did not need instruction on how to find said linen closet.
Shannon hesitated, then put her bowl on the nearest side-table and followed in Ewan’s footsteps.
She stopped behind him, unsurprised when he didn’t acknowledge her. His breeches already off and the curve of his ass made her swallow, willing the desire to stop intruding on the fact that he had written her off without even hearing her version of events.
“You’re a hypocrite,” she said.
