“You know,” he says in mock seriousness, “if things don’t work out with Annora, there’s always that nice widow from Dharhavva. What was her name? The one with more goats than teeth?”
I roll my eyes at him. “Thank you for that horrifying image right before bed.”
“Jasce,” he begins, then pauses as if searching for words before continuing. “If Annora does decide to fly away with you, promise me one thing.”
“What?”
“That you’ll at least learn how to duck when she goes for your eyes.” He bursts into laughter at his own joke.
Instead of answering him, I find a thick area of straw to lie on. Jude follows me and sits on a nearby bale.
“Is this really what we have been reduced to? Sleeping in stables?” he asks.
I shrug, knowing I would spend a hundred nights in a stable if it meant bringing Annora to Sharhavva with me.
“You could have any woman you want,” he says after a while. “Why her?”
The question spins through my thoughts like a relentless whirlwind seeking truth. I ponder it, searching within myself for the reason that draws me to Annora.
Is it her gentle spirit? Or perhaps her resilience?
As I wrestle with the reason, the answer gradually crystallizes in my mind. “Because she makes me feel like I’m more than just a chieftain. More than what my ancestors have tried to write in stone. With Annora, I am free to forge a future that is different from my forefathers.”
Jude sits up enough to peer over at me. “Well, that was nauseating.”
“Nauseating? This coming from the man who once composed a sonnet comparing a woman’s eyes to ripe olives.”
Jude laughs. “Ah, but you forget, that sonnet earned me a night of passion I shall never forget.”
“A night of passion?” I scoff. “More like a night of indigestion from all the olives you consumed trying to impress her.”
His laughter echoes in my ears as I settle back against the scratchy straw. The prickly stalks poke through my thin tunic, but I hardly notice, my thoughts already drifting back to Annora.
Soon, I’ll see her again, and I’ll tell her she is coming to Sharhavva with me. She may resist at first, her kind heart rebelling against the idea of leaving her people behind, but I know I can convince her. I have to.
The thought of being apart from her again is like a dagger twisting in my gut.
No, I won’t let that happen.
I’ll do whatever it takes to keep her by my side, even if it means facing the wrath of both our houses.
ChapterSix
ANNORA
Sunlight weaves through the leaves,splashing the garden with a mix of light and shadows.
Tahira leaps and twirls, trying to catch a butterfly that dances just beyond her fingertips. While Emerin lies with her head in my lap, her eyes tracing the clouds drifting across the sky.
“That one is a dragon,” Emerin says as her finger sketches the shape in the air.
Tahira squints up at the sky. “It looks like a lopsided potato to me.”
Emerin props herself up and frowns at her sister. “You lack imagination. It’s clearly a fire-breathing dragon.”
“Emerin might be onto something,” I say with a smile. “It’s definitely a dragon, albeit a friendly one.”
“If it’s from a fairytale…” Tahira plops down next to us, “…I hope it has a handsome prince with it.”
