A Family Oath by Auburn Tempest & Michael Anderle

Author:Auburn Tempest & Michael Anderle [Tempest, Auburn & Anderle, Michael]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: LMBPN Publishing
Published: 2020-11-29T06:00:00+00:00

Chapter Fourteen

“Dora!” I rush over to the six-foot-four male and realize my mistake too late. “Oh, sorry, we haven’t met yet.”

In royal velvet garb, with long, dark brown hair and a drunken glaze to his gaze, Merlin of old rakes me with a blank look. “Are you the boy to wash my feet?”

I drop my hood and smile. “No. I’m the girl who becomes your friend in about fifteen hundred years. We live in Toronto. You’re my ink spell artist.”

I tug the neck of my shirt down my shoulder a little to expose a recent concealment sigil. With all the trouble I’ve stumbled into, we thought it would be a wise addition to my repertoire.

He stiffens, pulls my cloak to cover me, and shoves me back. He casts a glance around us before looming forward. “How dare you openly flaunt a sigil? Have you a wish to kneel in the gallows? Out of my sight, wench, before you get us both sentenced to death.”

With the back of his arm, he knocks me aside and stomps off, his cloak billowing in the wake of his fury.

Thankfully, there’s no one around except Fionn to catch the full exchange between us. The few that saw him shove me and stomp off seem quite accustomed to such scenes and pay no attention.

I frown and return to Fionn. “That could’ve gone better.”

Fionn sweeps a hand through the air and gestures for us to take our leave. “Failures lay the foundation from which to build a new level of understanding.”

“Ha, if that’s true, I’ve lain more foundation than the crew who built the Great Wall of China.”

He smiles at me with the blank look he gets when he has no idea what I’m talking about. “Come. Let’s secure our lodgings, and I’ll arrange for a proper gown for you so we can attend dinner.”

“A gown? Seriously?”

He throws me a look, and it’s as familiar as any could be. The Cumhaill scowl has inarguably passed down through the generations. “Aye, a gown. In yer time, if ye choose to dress as a male, there’s naught to be said about it. In this place, it’s liable to get us arrested and burned on a pyre. There are appearances to be kept, and consequences for those who raise the disapproval of the gentry.”

Well, la dee da. “Fine. I’ll wear a gown, but I’ve seen the movies. I’m not gripping a bedpost while some sadistic maidservant yanks on the lacings of my corset until I can’t breathe. I don’t play the body image game. Like it or lump it.”

Fionn snorts. “What makes ye think ye rank a maidservant? Ye’ll dress yerself. Like it or lump it.”

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