Legacy (The Biodome Chronicles) (14 page)

“You know I am unable to comment, My Lord. I would dishonor The Code in doing so and risk our banishment.” Oaklee sipped the tea, suspicion coursing through her as she sharpened her gaze upon the Son of Fire.

“Of course, my apologies. It just seems so unreal, all of it, does it not?”

“Indeed, it is,” she said softly. “Coal, have you kept any secrets from me?”

“No, My Lady, all I have is yours.” He spread out his hands before her, willing Oaklee to accept his implied offer.

“Coal, please.” She took a deep breath and closed her eyes. “My head becomes muddled when you speak to me in such a way. It is scandalous enough that you are in my bedroom.”

She opened her eyes and watched a wry smile spread on his face, amused with how flustered she had become. The mischief-maker still existed, buried beneath all the overtures. Oaklee could never resist laughing whenever Coal gave her that boyish smile, a look celebrating victory. His smile widened at hearing her happiness, and all pretenses dissolved into a desire to scold him like an errant lad.

“You are such a rascal.”

“You forgot, ‘My Lord.’”

“Yes, well, your ego seemed large enough,” she giggled over the cup, taking another small sip. Coal’s eyes twinkled at hearing her teasing tones.

“I was going for charm. Oh, drat, I suppose I shall have to work harder.” He winked, giving her another boyish grin while offering a slight bow. “With your permission of course.”

“As your
friend
, permission granted,” Oaklee responded quickly, confused with the feelings fluttering pleasurably in her stomach.

She missed this side of Coal, but did not know if it was their usual banter, or if he was courting her affection. Disappointed with her reminder, he sobered instantly, and cleared his throat while looking away.

In a thickened voice, he said, “As your
friend
, I shall endeavor to be most charming.”

The defeated tones echoed in her heart, and she felt her friend slipping away.

Coal looked around her sparse room and Oaklee took another sip of tea, enjoying the warmth of the cup in her hands as the silence spanned between them. Her mind began to wander against the beating pain in her head, and she remembered his greeting. Widening her eyes, she asked, “What time did you say it was?”

“It is three o’clock afternoon time. You still have time to rest before the evening meal.”

“My head hurts fiercely. Rest would be most desirable.”

“Leaf shared that you were heartsick and still in bed. I did not wish for you to feel alone. I am happy to sit here and remain quiet if it pleases you.”

“Yes, Coal. It pleases me. You are most kind.”

A look of relief stole his features upon hearing that his company was welcome. He stood up and walked over, and eased her back into bed gently after taking the cup from her hands. With smooth movements he pulled the covers up over her shoulders and leaned down, softly kissing her forehead. His presence lingered several seconds longer than necessary, and she felt her stomach tighten with discomfort.

Oaklee glanced up shyly, and held her breath as his hair fell over his eyes. Once again, her heart felt confusion. She could not deny an attraction on a physical level and, if she was honest, on an emotional level too, despite the warnings she did well to heed.

He had never kissed her before, and his choice of moment in doing so while she lay in bed filled her stomach with pleasurable warmth which then tightened to dread. The feel of his lips still tingled upon her skin as he walked back to the chair, and she was thankful it was her forehead and not her hand, or... she could not allow her thoughts to travel in that direction, making her flush with embarrassment. Coal was becoming bolder, and his relentless nature advanced each time she refused his offers and attentions.

The young man and woman from the village were married simply because they had a midnight walk by the creek. What would the Nobles or Leaf do if they found Coal in her room as she slept? She would never survive a public trial to explain their innocent actions, but she was too scared to say anything to Coal, not knowing how to express herself properly.

She rolled over and faced the wall, suddenly afraid of her friend. Everything about him was charming. What would happen if she chose someone else in the community instead of him? What if she decided never to marry, choosing the spinster life? What would her father think? Would she dishonor him by choosing to remain single, refusing to meet the expectations of a noblewoman? Fingers ached to find an answer as her hand slipped beneath the pillow, caressing the golden leaf, desperate for comfort and guidance until she fell asleep with a prayer on her lips.

Consciousness surfaced as sleep became distant. Oaklee awakened to the pain that sleep had dulled for a short period. A warm hand gently shook her shoulder, and hot breath tickled her ear as it formed her name. She jumped up, pulling the covers with her. Leaf leaned back on his haunches and looked at her with deeply knitted eyebrows as he watched her every move.

“Are you well?”

“Yes. No. I am not sure, My Lord.” Oaklee looked around the room. Coal was not present. Relieved, she let out a slow breath. “Yes, I am fine.” Leaf continued to regard her with a wary gaze. She willed herself to keep eye contact, hoping she did not appear nervous or guilty.

“You sounded distressed in your sleep, and I became concerned. I am pleased to hear you are well.” Leaf stood up gradually and continued to watch her. “The evening meal begins soon. Laurel has requested help with her hair.”

“Yes, My Lord. I shall ready myself and join you in the living room.” Oaklee swung her feet over the bed and began to stand when Leaf knelt in front her once more, the same concern etching his features.

“Please, call me Leaf when we are alone, as before. I have never been fond of the courtesy titles.”

Oaklee nodded her head and the pounding sensation increased with each movement. She shifted her eyes away from her brother and spotted the cup of tea on her nightstand. Leaf curiously followed her eyes.

“Did Coal bring tea?”

“Yes,” she said, fidgeting with the edge of her blanket.

Leaf did not answer immediately. Instead, he glanced at her arms and then her chest, narrowing his eyes. “Be careful.”

The warning made her stomach flip as her brother stood to walk away. Oaklee glanced down and noticed that she only wore her shift, not even a modest chemise nightgown, exposing her arms, shoulders, with a neckline that scooped low on her chest. Blood rushed to her face, and she placed her hands over her chest protectively, mortified that she had allowed Coal in her room while she was undressed. Scandalous indeed.

“Leaf, please wait if you would,” she requested while pulling the blankets up to her chin. Her brother turned around and knelt beside her once again. “Please fetch my nice dress, I have something that belongs to you.” He followed her directions, removing the garment from a peg on the wall, and brought it to her. She slipped her hand inside the dress and pulled out the piece of paper. “It fell from your pocket during the ceremony today.”

“Thank you,” he said quietly, tucking it into his own pocket without a glance.

“What is it? I stole a look at the picture. Why do you keep it on you?” Oaklee placed the back of her hand on her head, feeling a wave of dizziness.

He blinked his eyes before placing his head into his hands with a deep breath. She braced herself, knowing this was important, perhaps another secret that would change her life. She tired of secrets, each one a dagger straight to her heart.

Leaf stood up and walked to the door with heavy footsteps. Glancing over his shoulder, he said, “I found this in father’s pocket prior to the procession.”

She drew her brows together in surprise. “The picture is most unusual. Was it his?”

“I am tired and I need to rest my thoughts awhile. Let us continue this conversation on the morrow.”

Leaf gave her a bow and a compassionate smile, and then walked out of her room. The door creaked as he shut it, and the wrought-iron handle swung and knocked against the wooden plank, making her cringe.

Oaklee stretched her arms as she came to a stand, each muscle tight and drugged from sleep. The nausea made her want to crawl out of the room as throbbing pain consumed her head. Her whole body revolted against living. She did not want to get out of bed. She did not want to face the world. Leaf would forgive her for not wishing to participate in the evening meal following the ceremony, but she knew her sister needed her presence. She was Laurel’s sister and her mother.

With eyes drooping, Oaklee walked slowly across the room, found her day dress, and slipped it on over her shift. She knelt and placed the nicer dress she wore for the ceremony in a large cedar chest at the end of the bed. A wrought iron oak tree spread across the lid of the chest, and as she closed it she traced her fingertips around the metalwork.

Coal had damaged the original
 plain-wood lid when he jumped off the cedar chest as a lad of nine. A smile formed on her face at the memory. He had roared, jumped from her bed to the chest, and from the chest to the floor, all with intent of scaring her so that he may chase her in a state of fright out of the apartment and into the woods. However, his leap had cracked and splintered the wooden top. They both had halted their movements and stared at the chest in horror until he turned and gave her a certain boyish grin, one that revealed a rather endearing dimple that always charmed the village matrons and made her giggle. Their fathers each had long words with him, and Coal was responsible for the Watsons' compost for a whole week as payment for his misadventure. The lid remained until her thirteenth birthday when he presented a new top from the carpenter, flourished with the tree he had forged personally as his first act as a full-fledged blacksmith at age fourteen. 

Slowly, she
 brushed her hand over the tree, and her thoughts wandered to Coal’s feather-light kiss upon her forehead. It was not a dream. Her memories were sharp, and the edges cut into her heart. Oaklee braced her hands against the lid of the chest and stood up. They could not marry. With determination, she pushed away the troubling thoughts and focused on readying for the evening meal. 

The nights had become cool, and the autumn air upon nightfall would refresh her flushed skin after enduring the stifling room of the Great Hall. She fastened a cloak around her neck, and then stopped, reaching up a hand to touch the tangled strands. Perhaps Laurel would return the favor and brush her hair as well.

She inched toward the living room and upon reaching the stone archway she turned on her heel, running toward the composter in the lavatory as her stomach lurched. The tea violently left her body as she began to retch, bringing on fresh tears, never feeling so vile in all her days. She knelt on the floor, attempting to regain her composure, but failed as a wave of dizziness competed with her headache.

A hand touched her back gently, and her body flinched. She knew it was Leaf. Oaklee could feel the calluses on his fingers through her linen dress.

“Come, we need to place you back in bed, ma chère.”

He scooped her off the floor effortlessly, and Oaklee rested her head on his chest, comforted with the rhythmic beating of his heart as he carried her across the hallway and back to her room. Leaf laid her gently on the bed and untied her cloak with a drawn expression on his face. At the end of her bed, he opened the cedar chest and pulled out a night gown edged in bobbin lace, placing the folded garment in her hands.

“I shall leave so you may change in privacy.”

Oaklee sat on her bed a few heartbeats before finding the energy to change, leaving her day dress draped across her wooden chair. Closing her eyes, she pulled the covers up to her chin and tried focusing on the sounds outside her window. A familiar songbird chirped a sad tune nearby, a reminder that she was dying from grief. At this moment, she would welcome death, any kind of sweet relief from the torment her body was experiencing, and she prayed that Coal would not interfere.

The door opened, and she felt Leaf’s presence beside her bed. Unable to open her eyes, she lay still and enjoyed her brother’s shadow darkening the light on her face.

“Willow, do not worry about the ceremony’s evening meal. I shall send for the naturopath to administer something for your present relief.”

Oaklee reached out her hand from beneath the covers, groping for Leaf’s so he knew she heard him. Leaf took her hand and gently kissed it, caressing the top of her fingers with his thumb before tucking her hand back under the blankets. He left the room, quietly shutting the door, and the songbird outside her window continued its mournful lullaby.

She felt honored. Oaklee was cared for by Leaf the gentle, Leaf the kind, Leaf the steadfast. After pointing out her obvious scandal, he did not demand a marriage to Coal, a reassuring fact given his warning and her undressed state. Did he suspect her reluctance? Did he have knowledge she did not possess? Was he extending grace due to her state of mourning? Regardless, she finally felt she could trust Leaf after nearly four years of wishing her brother was never born.