Chapter 17
CHAPTER SEVENTEEN
“Ye’re lookin’ like the king himself today,” Eli teased, his voice low but carrying the lightness of his usual humor.
“They cannae stop bowin’ to ye, eh?” Marcus glanced at his friend, a small smirk tugging at his lips.
“Aye, they’ll be doin’ it until the day I’m laid to rest,” he muttered though there was no real bitterness in his voice.
The villagers, upon spotting Marcus, immediately stopped their tasks and bowed respectfully, their heads lowered in acknowledgment of his presence.
Marcus nodded back at each of them, his expression stern yet appreciative, aware of the weight his position carried in these parts.
The village of Galton was quiet yet bustling with activity as Marcus and Eli wandered through the cobbled streets.
Small stone cottages lined the road with smoke curling from chimneys and children played near the market square.
Eli’s eyes gleamed with mischief as he nudged Marcus with his elbow. “Ye ken, ye cannae fool me,” he said, his voice teasing. “When are ye goin’ to tell Annabeth that ye find her a bonnie lass and ye desire her? Yer eyes cannae stop followin’ her. It’s shameful, Laird!”
Marcus halted in his tracks, eyes narrowing as he turned to Eli. “Mind yer own business, Eli,” he said, his tone more serious than he intended. “What I do with Annabeth is nae somethin’ to be discussed between us.” He began walking again, trying to shake off the discomfort of the conversation.
Eli grinned, clearly not deterred as he laughed. “Aye, but ye look like ye’re ready to burst, mate,” he teased, quickening his step to match Marcus’ stride. “Ye cannae keep that fire inside forever; I’d say ye’ve got it bad for the lass.”
Marcus’ jaw tightened, and he gave Eli a pointed look. “Ye’ve nae idea what ye’re talkin’ about.”
Marcus kept his eyes on the village ahead though his mind wandered back to Annabeth. Was it this obvious to everyone that he desired her? His thoughts were a chaotic mix of longing and responsibility.
I must do somethin’, but what? Me mind should be focused on leadin’ the people, nae courtin’ a woman.
Eli’s voice cut through his thoughts, snapping him back to the present.
“Daenae tell me ye’ve nae noticed the way she looks at ye, Marcus,” he said with a smirk, clearly enjoying the discomfort he was causing.
“It’s written all over her face, just like it is on yers. Like hungry wolves, the two of ye.”
Marcus shook his head in frustration, trying to dismiss Eli's observations. “It doesnae matter what’s written on her face,” he muttered, his voice low. “I’ve got bigger things to worry about than whether or nae Annabeth is interested in me.”
As they moved further into the village, Marcus couldn’t help but wonder if his feelings for Annabeth were becoming too obvious to ignore.
I’ve never been one for distractions, but somehow, she’s got under me skin.
His thoughts were interrupted as Eli shot him another knowing look, and Marcus couldn’t help but sigh.
It seems I’m in deeper than I thought.
As Marcus and Eli neared the makeshift healer’s hut set up in the inn’s stable, they heard the sound of laughter spilling from inside.
Marcus paused, his brow furrowing as he exchanged a glance with Eli, who merely shrugged with a grin.
Pushing open the door, they found Annabeth and Elena sitting on straw bales, giggling about something only they knew.
Annabeth immediately stopped, her face flushing as she noticed Marcus’ presence, while Elena suppressed a mischievous grin.
“Annabeth,” Marcus said with a soft command in his voice, “could ye walk with me for a moment? I need a report on the state of the villagers.” Annabeth stood quickly, smoothing down her skirts, and nodded as she followed him outside, her boots crunching against the gravel of the stable yard.
Once outside, Marcus turned to her, his expression serious but his gaze lingering on her for a moment longer than necessary.
“So, what have ye learned of the villagers’ health?” he asked, his voice low but steady.
“Most of the problems they’ve had are minor,” she explained, her hands folded in front of her as she spoke.
“The real issue is the lack of a proper healer. Without someone to lead the way, even the smallest ailments grow worse than they should, and that was the problem that made them seek aid from the castle.”
Marcus nodded slowly, taking in her words. “Aye, I see what ye mean,” he said, his voice thoughtful.
“Perhaps somethin’ like a trainin' program could help,” she suggested, her voice soft but earnest. “If ye cannae provide one healer for every village, at least ye could teach more to care for the basics.”
“Aye,” he agreed, the wheels in his mind already turning. “I’ll take it to the council when we return,” he said, looking at her with newfound appreciation. “Ye’re right—’tis nae a bad idea at all.” His voice lowered just slightly, as if the weight of her suggestion had shifted something in him.
“I’ll see what I can do while we’re here,” she said.
“Aye, Annabeth, I’m sure ye will” Marcus said, his voice thick with admiration. He stepped a little closer, the space between them narrowing. “Ye’ve done more for these people in the short time ye’ve been here than I could’ve hoped for.”
As Marcus and Annabeth continued their conversation, a sudden, sharp cry pierced the quiet of the village.
Both of them turned in the direction of the sound, eyes scanning the surrounding area.
The cry came again, and this time they saw a small red fox kit in a trap along the edge of the path, its tiny paw clearly injured.
Annabeth’s heart melted at the sight, and without a second thought, she rushed to the creature, kneeling beside it.
“Ye poor thing,” Annabeth murmured softly as she gently examined its paw. Marcus watched, his chest tightening as he saw the care and compassion in Annabeth’s actions.
She’s truly an angel.
Her fingers worked quickly, yet with the utmost care, as she checked the fox’s injuries, her brow furrowed in concern.
“Annabeth,” Marcus began, his voice tinged with frustration though he tried to keep it in check, “ye cannae take that creature with ye.” He took a step forward, looking down at her as she cradled the fox in her arms, her gaze soft and determined.
She looked up at him, her eyes flashing with both defiance and compassion.
“I cannae leave it here to die,” she retorted, her voice firm, yet gentle.
“It willnae survive alone, Marcus. It’s a wee thing—its wounds are too deep.
” She adjusted the fox in her arms, her lips pressed together in determination.
Marcus let out a frustrated sigh, his patience wearing thin.
“Ye’re nae takin’ it with us, Annabeth,” he growled.
“We’re here to help the villagers, nae to play nursemaid to every injured animal ye come across.
Besides it’s game that belongs to the trapper.
” He crossed his arms over his chest, his stance firm and resolute.
Annabeth stood up, clutching the fox to her chest, her defiance clear in the way her chin lifted.
“I’m nae askin’ for yer permission,” she snapped, her tone sharp but filled with a sense of purpose. “I’ll take care of it, and ye cannae stop me. It’ll be one more life I save, even if it’s nae a human one. And may I remind ye that ye were an injured animal I came across.”
Marcus clenched his jaw, his temper rising though he couldn’t bring himself to be truly angry with her. He grabbed her arm and turned her to face him. Their bodies were inches from each other.
“Ye’re maddenin’, ye ken that?” he said, his voice low but heated. “Always doin’ what ye please without thinkin’ of the consequences. Ye’ll get us both into trouble, Annabeth.”
He watched as her chest heaved up and down mere inches from his.
I want to kiss her. To have her. Take her.
“Aye, I’m stubborn, and ye’ve got a problem with that, daenae ye?” she shot back. “Perhaps ye just daenae like that I’m nae afraid to stand up to ye, Laird.”
He opened his fingers as she pulled her arm away. She whispered soft words to the fox she held and walked away. The tension between them hung thick in the air as they walked back to the stable, each step heavy with unsaid words and unspoken desires.
“Stubborn lass,” he muttered.