I laughed as we ’ported, and moments later we arrived on the stony road between the woodland ranges and the village of Merodyne. I adored the countryside, the remoteness and the quiet. Moonlight bathed the tree tops a silvery hue, and from a sprawling wooden-shingled home, smoke rose eerily then vanished on the wind.
“How gorgeous.” Lanterns lit the square-cut front windows, sprinkling a yellow glow over the beamed porch railing. “I can just see you running about these woods as a kid.”
“Yeah. But I’m not sure where all the noise I promised you is.”
“Do you come home often?” He had rooms in the village closest to the castle where an arena, training facilities and a dining hall provided all our protectors needed.
“A couple of times a week, but only for a short—”
“Zayn!” A girl of about ten bounded out the front door and across the front yard dotted with yellow flowers. Her blond ponytails bobbed and her grin slashed from ear to ear. She plowed into him, puffing from her mad dash. “Oh my goodness, that smells yummy. Please say I’m allowed to eat that now. Is that cheese on the top?” Her nose was in the dish.
“Yes. Giggi, say hi to Silvie.”
“Hi, Silvie. Mmm, what have you got? That smells like chocolate.” She wafted across to me.
“It’s a brownie, with loads of gooey chocolate for sure. It’s nice to meet you, Giggi.”
“Same. Can I take that for you?”
“Be careful, it’s heavy.” I passed it across.
She winked and rushed back to the house. “Last one inside misses out.”
“Well, she’s a delight.” I’d always wished for a sister, but it was only Silas and me. Thankfully Faith had filled that void.
“Giggi’s always on the go. Come and meet everyone else.”
He led the way up the front step and through the opened door. The heat blasting into the entrance from the living room drew me toward the doorway. A fire blazed in the hearth. I’d never want to leave this room if I lived here. Two teens lazed on knitted throw cushions, and three younger ones sat cross-legged on colorful mats playing with thin painted sticks. Each took a turn, adding their stick to the growing platform. This was a game of skill, and one I’d loved playing with Silas as a child.
I leaned into Zayn. “I always won this game. Silas had such big hands and always knocked the sticks down.”
“I had the same problem. I’ve won that game twice, ever, and that was purely by chance.” Lifting his hand toward his siblings, he called out, “Hey, everyone, this is Silvie.”
A chorus of hellos came at me, and I waved back.
“Come on. We’ll take this dish through to the kitchen.” I had to force myself to follow him down the hallway and away from the fireplace’s heat, the only incentive being he’d said kitchen. “Here we are.”
Oh, nice. Brass pots and pans hung over a wood-fired stove, and beside it, a cane basket overflowed with kindling. “Since your home has two fireplaces, I believe I might move in.”
He chuckled. “I’m taking you to the next village bonfire night. You’ll love that.”
“Yes, please, if you can drag me out of this room.” His mother’s kitchen was clearly the hub of the home. On the scuffed wooden countertop, a pail overflowed with ripened red apples. Tasty. And beyond, a wide dining area held a chunky pine table draped with a crocheted cloth. Giggi knelt on one of the slatted bench seats before it and set the brownie on top.
“Where’s Mum, Giggi?”
“I don’t know, but I’ll go find—”
“I’m right here.” Zayn’s mother swished into the room in brown skirts and an apron. Long golden hair, the same shade as Zayn’s, swung in a thick braid down her back. His mother’s eyes widened as she took in the dishes. “Oh, that looks delicious.”
Giggi pointed to the corner of the brownie. “I didn’t do that.”
“I’m sure you didn’t. Thanks, hon. You go and call your father in. He should be out by the woodshed. Let him know we have a guest.” She smiled at Zayn. “Pop the lasagna on the table, Mr. Taste-tester.”
Zayn grinned and slid his dish where she’d said. “It’s gets a ten out of ten, if you’re wondering.”
“I’m sure it does.” She crossed the room and grasped my hands. “Lovely to meet you, Silvie. Thank you so much for bringing dinner. I can’t believe this is the first time we’ve met, although I do remember seeing you in the arena stands at Zayn’s rising. I’m Briarlee. Zayn speaks about you all the time.”
“He does?” Zayn’s cheeks had flushed.
“Mum, what did you do to your hands?”
“I picked berries today.” She twiddled her stained fingers in the air. “I’ll try and have another scrub at them.” At the sink, she picked up a slab of soap, one close to a half pound of butter in size. “Tell me all about your day off, hon.”
“Silvie took me to her favorite beach.”
“You two went out together?” She peered over her shoulder at him. “That sounds intriguing.”
“It’s not what you think.”
“How do you know what I’m thinking?” Her hands disappeared within the mound of bubbles she’d built.