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The people of Providence had outdone themselves. The festival had started in full swing at dawn and maintained its fervor throughout the day. Aside from a plethora of games one could participate in, wares were traded, food offered, and lively music and laughter filled the autumn air. I had greeted and smiled more than I could count, relaxing in the grateful reprieve from the past few weeks.
Providence was positively thrilled that their Constant’s daughter had been chosen for the Fealty, as if I personally belonged to each one of them. There were the jealous daughters, of course, from the wealthier families, giving me malicious looks and whispering to each other if I happened to pass by, wondering amongst themselves why they hadn’t been chosen, why her?
A few townsfolk were wary, however, not wanting the attention the Fealty brought to our village, and a handful were just plain frightened, planning on holing themselves away tomorrow lest the Ongahri steal their daughters, too.
Twilight had arrived and my feet were dragging. Having eaten a little of everything the country folk had prepared for the festival, I felt heavy and terribly sleepy. I decided to revive myself and take a walk out to the lake for a few minutes, away from the merriment.
The evening was chilly, and since the day had been sunny and unusually warm, I had dressed in a simple linen frock with only a thin knitted shawl wrapped around my waist in case the temperature turned. I was about to untie it and set it on my shoulders when I felt the warmth of wool envelop me. Startled, I turned around and practically face-planted into the starched robes of a Servant of the Owl.
I looked up and Demos smiled. Immediately, I took a step back.
“I beg your pardon, Lady Sierra. I saw that you were taking a walk, and I followed you. Do you mind my company?” His blue-eyed gaze seared—almost too bright, too seeing.
It was always a shock seeing him, his being so much younger than the Servants I’ve seen. His skin was tanned from the sun, probably from traveling so much recently on horseback, and his dark blond hair was cropped short, showing a well-formed skull and highlighting his strong jawbone and tapered neck. With him so close, I also noticed he smelled like forests and pine trees, even a faint trace of a cool stream. The many scents made the twilight surreal.
My mouth was suddenly dry. “Um… yes, by all means, please. Oh, and thank you for the cloak.”
He held out an arm. I hesitated before taking it, my eyes cast down at my slippers.
“You were cold. Are you warm enough now?” he asked. “Here, drink some of this. It will revive you and warm your belly.” He handed me a silver flask, taken from a mysterious pocket concealed in his robes.
I risked a look at him. “Oh. Yes, thank you. But how did you know I was cold?” I uncapped the flask and drank. The liquid tasted like honey and was quite good. I handed it back to him, but he motioned for me to drink more. I did. “Thank you.”
When he smiled, I handed him back the flask and resumed watching my feet.
Why did this man make me feel so aware of myself? Another reason I disliked the Owl Order so much. I wondered if they trained their Servants to be so penetrating.
“Let’s just say my skills in observation are well-honed,” he answered, deftly pocketing the flask into his robes once more. He gestured to the bench up ahead. “Would you like to sit?”
“Yes, I would actually.” Even though, initially, I hadn’t planned on sitting, I honestly couldn’t keep my legs from shaking.
He led me to the bench and waited until I was seated before he sat down beside me, an appropriate distance away.
I had no idea what in the world to talk about, so I waited for him to speak. I hadn’t seen him all day and had only spoken to him that morning in the gardens.
Perhaps he was going to explain more about the Fealty? Try as I might, I still couldn’t find enough information on it to my liking.
“Have you ever left Providence, Lady Sierra?”
My eyes spied a bird across the lake, on the bank. It was drinking water and splashing enough to wet his feathers. I smiled and thanked the bird for its presence. Animals had always made me feel more connected.
I released a relaxing breath. “No, I haven’t. I have always wanted to, though.” I watched the little bird lift off, its wings fluttering faster than I could make out as it glided into the oncoming night sky.
“I can see an adventurous spirit in you.”
I turned to him then, to see if his comment meant his disapproval. But his gaze was also on the sky, watching the bird. While I had the opportunity, I studied the line of his throat, and heat filled my cheeks. He really was a handsome man.
“How old are you, Demos?” I blurted out. “Oh, I’m so sorry. I have a habit of being—” I made some meaningless motion with my hands— “outspoken. Forgive me, Servant.” I turned away, embarrassed. Why was I feeling so flustered? It was not like me.
To my surprise, he laughed. “I find your character refreshing, my lady. And the answer to your question is more than thirty years.”
I meekly looked back at him before nodding my thanks at forgiving my outspokenness.
His blue eyes seemed kinder now as he asked, “What else would you like to know?”
I was being given carte blanche? He had no idea how much that pleased me, but I had a feeling he knew that.
“How long have you been a Servant of the Owl?” I asked. It was an honest question, nothing too out of line, and besides, I was genuinely curious.
