very average male did. And I suspected it had everything to do with the measure of his heart.
I had a good instinct about people. Or at least, mother had always said so. I smiled softly. And it was genuine. He must have sensed that because soon his lips mimicked my own.
“I am not here alone, sir.” And as if to punctuate my words, my sister’s laughter (I wasn’t sure which) floated over to us on a salt tinged breeze.
He flicked a glance over toward the group, then back to me. “They seem to be headed our way,” he said, and then suddenly he was rummaging in a sack beside him. “Your kindness to a poor, humble peddler has not been forgotten, milady.”
I shook my head. “It was nothing, sir. I saw you’d fallen, I wished to make certain you were well.”
A muscle in his jaw twitched as he pulled out a heart shaped vial from his sack. I exhaled, studying the magnificently crafted perfume bottle. The contents within were a rosy red and rolled like a wave with threads of glittering silver.
“What is that?” I asked, enchanted by the strange little thing. I’d never seen anything so lovely.
“It is a potion, milady.” He was clutching the bottle tightly and I could swear that there was suddenly a small tremor working through his hand. “It is meant to… to,” he looked at me, hard and there was now a tension around his beautiful eyes, “make your deepest heart’s desire come to be.”
The words seemed to come out of him with reluctance. I shook my head. It was obvious to me he did not wish to give me the charm. Its contents must be quite valuable. No doubt this peddler could catch great value for it at market. I shook my head and reaching for his hand, I covered it with my own.
Warmth suffused my palm, making me feel the oddest sensations I’d ever felt in my life.
And he sucked in a sharp little breath, his eyes trained on mine.
“Please, keep it. It must be worth a small fortune and I’ve no need of such generosity. My kindness was given freely to you, sir.”
He shook his head. “What is your deepest desire, milady?” he asked me and the word felt weighted, heavy. I heard a yearning in it too, like my answer actually mattered to him.
I almost said I wished for nothing. I wanted nothing. But that wasn’t the truth. I did want one thing. Most desperately. But dare I trust a stranger with such a confession?
The kindness in his eyes was what convinced me to speak. And also, the knowledge that I knew I would never again see this man. I need never worry that he would tell anyone of my secret yearnings.
His thumb suddenly brushed tenderly across my flesh and I shivered, feeling strangely drawn to this man. Then the words came tumbling out.
“Because of my beauty my parents wish to sell me off to the highest bidder. They say such a union will bring great honor not only to them, but to me as well.”
He shook his head. “And you do not want that? You do not want marriage?”
“I want marriage. But a true one. I want what my parents actually have. They are hopelessly in love. They were the second son and daughter of their own families and the pressure to marry well wasn’t on them. I’d hoped that they would do the same for my sisters and I, but they are as greedy in their desperation to gain social standing as their families ever were. There is a male who courts me now.”
His jaw clenched and his thumb pressed down just a little harder, not painfully so. More like an unconscious desire to keep me safely with him. It was so strange, but I felt a kinship with this stranger that I could not understand.
“Do you want him?” he asked me, words feeling weighted and heavy as they spilled off his tongue.
I shook my head. “He is the most beautiful male that walks this earth.”
His brows gathered in sharply and for just a moment I could swear I’d offended him. Though I had not tried to.
“What is his name?”
“Arganon. He is the selfish firstborn of wealthy merchants that live by the docks. He wants me. He has for a very long time. But I fear he does not love me.”
“But he is beautiful. Is that not enough?” There was a pain in his words that I could