King of Devotion by J A Armitage & Emma Savant

Author:J A Armitage & Emma Savant
Language: eng
Format: azw3
Publisher: Enchanted Quill Press
Published: 2020-03-25T04:00:00+00:00

29th March

The train jerked to a stop. Steam billowed past my window, and the sounds of people gathering their belongings filled the carriage. A woman nearby hoisted her young daughter onto her hip and kissed the top of her head. The little girl was blonde with rosy cheeks and a purple hair bow almost as big as her head. She reminded me of Lilian at that age. I smiled at her, and she grinned shyly back.

I waited until the carriage was mostly empty, then followed the last few stragglers out of the car and onto the platform. People milled about, greeting loved ones and complaining about the journey. Through the crowd, I caught sight of a familiar silver head and salt-and-pepper beard. My heart lifted.

“Hedley!” I called.

I raised a hand, and his gaze landed on me. The crinkles around his smiling eyes deepened, and he stood, immovable as a boulder, as I made my way through the crowd toward him.

His hug was warm and strong as ever, and I let myself squeeze him as hard as I wanted to and hold on for a few extra seconds. When we pulled back, his whole face twinkled with happiness.

“It’s good to see you,” I said.

“You’re a head taller,” Hedley said, which wasn’t remotely true. “And look at the muscles in those arms. What have they been feeding you, boy?”

“Hard work,” I said. “Lots of it.”

“Good. Young men need that. Keeps them out of trouble.”

He tapped his nose, and I laughed.

We took a leisurely stroll to his house. It was a pleasant walk that exited the train station and wound through the picturesque village of Goldenrod. Red and pink geraniums squatted in window boxes outside shops and the apartments above them, and sweet pea vines crawled up the sides of brick buildings. Away from the pressures and demands of the city, everyone here seemed cheerful, from the baker adjusting her chalk sign to add SOLD OUT next to an advertisement for cardamom buns to the street sweeper who whistled as he tidied up the remains of a flowerpot that had spilled all over the sidewalk.

“I ought to move out here,” I said after a woman selling flowers handed me a daisy with a wink and a flirtatious “No charge, love.”

“Don’t let it fool you, small towns can be madness,” Hedley said. “Hyacinth is in a proper feud with the lady down the street who keeps stealing our apple blossoms.”

I raised an eyebrow. “Why would anyone steal apple blossoms?”

“Well, that’s the mystery, isn’t it?”

We turned onto a dirt lane that wandered away from the rest of the town. We passed an orchard and a stand of raspberry bushes thick with leaves, and then the bushes gave way to a landscaped front garden that could only have belonged to my mentor. His cottage stood under gently swaying trees, the stone walls covered in climbing roses and the window boxes bursting with petunias.

“And here I thought you’d have less gardening to do,” I said.

Hedley boomed out a laugh.

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