27. Liam

Chapter 27

Liam

T he morning began as the previous one had, with annoyingly chipper sunlight streaming through the window. I lay awake, staring out the window, not really seeing anything. When it was clear sleep would not return, I released an annoyed huff, wiped my eyes, and rose.

I was supposed to work today.

In a family-run inn, there were no days off.

Ma had made that up last night when she saw a glimmer of hope that I might finally have an attraction to someone other than a cleaning rag or chopping block. She’d been nagging me for years to “find a good man,” though I never could understand her rush. I was happy working with my parents and the inn, happy seeing guests every day and making them laugh, happy being part of something special.

Besides, most men wanted to find a good woman . Those who might lean in my direction too often acted like scared rabbits or stuffed-up braggarts. I was sure things were no different in larger towns, but in a tiny speck like Oliver, the menu held even fewer options.

But the night before, when Seth’s persistent smile made my heart flutter, thoughts of the inn and cooking and guests were replaced by deep pools of brown and locks of ebony, with the cutest tiny curls at their ends.

I giggled when I realized I was twisting my own locks with my fingers as I daydreamed.

Despite my mother’s unfathomable grace, I knew my day off would include a trip to the market to purchase essentials for the evening meal. There could be no respite from our guests’ stomachs. I donned my dress, fumbling as I put one arm in the wrong sleeve.

After a quick visit to the kitchen to grab a steaming biscuit and affectionate kiss from Ma, I ambled out of the inn. It was too early for the stalls to be open, but I had nowhere else to be and enjoyed the thought of an aimless stroll on a chilly day.

I’d made it halfway to the docks when the cheerful squeal of children grabbed my attention. Someone had worked a pack of little monsters into a frenzy. They were screaming and laughing with reckless abandon. The merry sound made me smile, so I turned to follow it, curious to see what had the little rascals so energized.

I rounded the corner of the apothecary and stopped mid-stride. My grin widened at the scene before me. A tall man facing away from me had a toddler attached to each of his legs while a third had her tiny arms and legs firmly wrapped around his waist. Two more ran in circles around the man, poking him playfully with their “swords,” which were little more than willow branches that bent as the boys waved them.

A slender woman, her silver mane blowing wildly in the winter breeze, sat some distance away. Her laughter rose above even the children’s shouts.

The man let out a roar and raised his hands, fingers crooked like claws, as he lifted one leg in a dramatic stomp. The attached toddler squealed with delight and screamed, “Get him! He’s trying to flee!”

The two swordsmen renewed their assault.

My own laughter joined the chorus.

The sillier the man acted, the grander his gestures, the louder the children’s giggles and screams became. At the sound of a newcomer’s amusement, the man turned, and our eyes met. The monster’s mock snarl morphed into a warm, broad smile as Seth straightened, then bowed, a gesture made even more comical by his dangling darlings.

“M’lord, save me! I am but an innocent beast attacked by these ruffians. Please, have mercy, fine sir!” Seth’s plea caused the thin woman to double over with laughter and sent the children into a frenzy.

High-pitched cries of, “No! He’s mine. He’s a monster,” rang through the yard.

I raised both hands in surrender. “Poor monster, you’re on your own in this fight.”

I stepped around the fray and sat beside the older woman. We laughed until tears streamed down both our cheeks. When the swordsmen finally found their opening, the monster stumbled to his knees while the squealing barnacles still clung to his legs. He released cries and moans of pain, then dramatically uttered, “Oh, if I only had more time to live.”

I laughed so hard that my side hurt as the children cheered in victory.

Seth lay still on the paving stones, his limbs strewn in mock-death, as the children danced around him with swords held high, cheering their heroic victory.

Seth peeked up from the stones with one eye, winked, then closed his eye again.

I turned to my new companion and tried desperately to avoid looking at him.

Before I realized it, Seth stood before me, one child attached to his back with her head poking over his shoulder, tongue extended toward me. “M’lord, might a humble monster accompany you on your errands this fine day?”

The older woman flushed at the handsome Priest. Clearly, she’d fallen under his spell. I straightened my back and looked imperiously up at the man.

“Monsters are not welcome in the market,” I said. “But perhaps they may allow a Priest to visit—if accompanied by a lord of respect and renown, of course.”

Seth lowered his head and shook it in mock disappointment. “Alas, I have found no such lord. I suppose I must go hungry.”

I punched his arm, then rose. “Come on, you ridiculous monster, I would be glad of the company.”

I glanced back to catch the older woman grinning from ear to ear.

It took a few moments to extricate Seth from his tiny pursuers, but we made our escape.

“There’s a story for the bards: the Priest and the Innkeeper’s Son Fleeing the Pack of Ravenous Children,” Seth teased.

I laughed and shook my head. Seth’s open warmth contrasted so deeply with my initial impression of the man. He caught me staring at him and raised a brow.

“What? Is there something still clinging to my neck?”

“No. You’re free of knee-high knights.” I grinned. “I guess . . . I just never imagined seeing you roughhousing with a pack of wild children.”

“You envision every religious man hunkered over ancient scrolls in his stone Temple, on his knees, forever praying to his gods or the Spirits, right?”

I gave him a sheepish shrug and nodded.

“That’s okay. It is what most people think, but the Order is different. We are here to help those in need, to be part of the community, rather than simply take from it. Everything we receive, we return. It is a vital tenet of our faith.”

I wasn’t sure I enjoyed the religious turn of our conversation, but I did admire what Seth had to say, and even more the commitment with which he said it. I could see in his eyes, feel in his words, that he meant it—all of it. I’d encountered priests and monks of other orders, and most of them struck me as hollow, self-serving men who cloaked themselves in beliefs that never transformed into deeds.

This Priest walking beside me seemed so different.

Seeing him with the children, hearing their laughter and witnessing his obvious pleasure in their play, made me wonder if there wasn’t a ring of truth in his words.

“You are doing it again.”

I looked up. “Doing what?”

“Losing yourself in your thoughts. Care to share?”

His gaze was so intense, so beautiful .

I looked away. “I was just walking through what we needed at the market in my head. That’s all.”

I thought I saw a grin out of the corner of my eye before his head turned to look ahead. “Taming that pack of wild pups was my only appointment today, so consider me at your service, m’lord.”