Page 6 of Honeythorn
Milan wouldn’t have been able to keep the wide smile off his face if he tried.
He left the stable in high spirits, stopping by the kitchen to grab some bread and cheese before heading out again. Yesterday’s fog had dissipated, and the green glowed around him in the early autumn sun.
Milan found himself enjoying the walk. He followed a path that cut through the grass and was glad to eventually reach the edge of an expanse of crops, dotted with workers bent down to the earth.
“Hello, there!” he called cheerily to the first person he crossed. The woman—a bonded Alpha, he could scent from where he stood—straightened as she turned to look at him. Despite the cold, she was sweating, her ginger hair pinned away from her face.
“Hello, there,” the woman replied.
“I’m sorry to bother you. I’m Milan Pryor. I’m new to Ledford Manor,” he said a little awkwardly, knowing that this was not enough of an excuse to disturb her from her work.
“Oh! The new lord. It’s an honour,” she said with a bow. Milan waved her stiff greeting away.
“Please, I’m not a lord yet. Call me Milan.”
The woman looked unsure. “I am Stephanie.”
“Stephanie! A pleasure. May I ask…what grows in these crops? The plants are unfamiliar to me, from where I come from.”
“Of course. These here are spring onions. We have some kale further down.”
“Kale? I’ve never tried it, I don’t think. Although perhaps I’ve had it without knowing.”
“It’s common here.”
“Well then, I look forward to getting acquainted with the taste.”
Stephanie smiled, seeming to relax a little.
Milan was tempted to ask about how she found Raphael—did she enjoy working under his rule? The question would be inappropriate, however, seeing as he was about to marry the man, and Stephanie would not complain to him even if she wanted to.
“Well, thank you for indulging me. My apologies again for disrupting your work,” Milan said.
“It has been no disruption. I wish you a good day.”
“Yes, thank you. You too.”
Milan walked on, eating some of the bread along the way. He tried not to bother the workers but had to stop when he saw an intriguing irrigation system that seemed to move on its own.
“Steam powered?” Milan asked, getting a nod from the worker in response. “Fascinating.”
In his curiosity, Milan got wet and muddy. Despite the worker’s exclamations, Milan didn’t mind, and it was with a smile on his face that he turned to walk back to the manor.
The sun was setting when he arrived, entering through the mudroom. The staff that greeted him were instantly aflutter with distress at his state.
“Don’t worry, I won’t trek mud through the manor,” he promised, which did little to appease them.
His dirty state earned him a hot bath, so Milan wasn’t too sorry. After the hours of walking, the warm water was a relief to his muscles, and he soaked for as long as the water kept a comfortable temperature.
Milan was dressed and ready just in time for dinner, bracing himself. Would there be another tedious gathering? Or would he have to drag conversation out of the lord, word by word? In either case, Milan felt far more prepared than yesterday.
Of course, his confidence seemed only to curse him, as the dining room was once again utterly empty except for food and Larry.
“Is Lord Raphael delayed?” Milan asked him. Larry looked reluctant to answer.
“He has taken an early dinner in his study and has already retired.”
Milan clenched his fists tightly, staring at the opposite wall. This time, it was not pain or helplessness that took over him, but anger.
