Page 20 of Nightshade

The boy grimaced. “Cats are terrible creatures. The worst kind of evil. I cannot stand them.”

Lustina couldn’t help but chuckle at his ridiculous remark. “You hunt bear and boar, but are afraid of cats?”

“I am not afraid,” he snapped. “I said they were evil. Practically vermin.”

“My apologies, if I insulted you.”

“Apology accepted.” Silence lingered between them for a good stretch, until he asked, “Your village doesn’t have a venator?”

Venators were designated hunters, with whom she and her mother had bartered on rare occasions.

“Yes, but we did not often share the privilege of their catch. We were … on our own mostly.”

“How terrible that must’ve been. The Holy Father showed you a great mercy by allowing you and your mother to stay at the monastery.”

“I stay at the monastery alone. Without my mother.”

“Right. You mentioned that. I’m sorry,” he said, the empathy catching Lustina off guard.

They breached the edge of the woods, where the sound of trickling water could be heard over the crackling of branches beneath their feet. From the bank of the river, the boy knelt down, allowing the stream to catch in the bucket.

“Here, let me. It was my task to fulfill.” She reached for the bucket, but he gently batted her hand.

“Nonsense. I shall fill it for you.”

“No, I insist.” She reached again, and he withdrew his arm so quickly, the bucket fell out of his grasp and into the water, where the stream carried it to the opposite bank.

“Oh, no!” Hands to her mouth, Lustina giggled.

Pushing to his feet, the boy chuckled, also. “Lovely. I suppose we shall have to fill our shoes to carry it back.”

“I am sorry. It is my fault.”

The smile on his face, when he turned toward her, faded to a frown, as if his eyes had caught on something behind her. The look, so dark and fearful, had her turning to find another boy, about the same age as her escort, by her estimates, standing off just a short stretch away.

Inky black hair, like hers, framed icy blue eyes that stirred a chill deep inside her chest. Terrifying, yet handsome, he stared back at the two of them, like a dark cloud off in the distance.

“My Lord,” Drystan said from behind, and confused, Lustina glanced back at him and then again to the dark haired one. “I was just fetching water with the girl.”

Lord.

The young baron, Lustina presumed. All that time, she’d thought it to be Drystan.

“With no bucket. How clever.” The boy’s voice was an ominous sound that carried on the air like curled smoke.

“We lost the bucket by accident.”

The young man stepped closer, and when his gaze turned to Lustina, she could feel her own heart hammering against her ribs. Thankfully, he returned his attention back toward the boy beside her. “I see you have found a proper escort for the woods.”

Drystan lowered his head, brows tight, as if angered by the remark. “She came with Bishop Venable. She is assisting him with your mother.”

“Assisting him,” he spat, words like venom on his tongue. “Then, she is as equally useless.”

“I beg you not to speak about the bishop that way, My Lord. He is a good man and such words have consequences.”

“Yes, I suppose they do.” Amusement colored his expression for only a moment before his cold eyes found Lustina again.

In a panic, she remembered manners that were still somewhat foreign to her and stepped forward to curtsy. “Baron Van Croix, it is a pleasure to meet you.”