my craft. I began with simple borders and progressed until we were working side by side.”
Motioning him back to her side of the table, she was obviously relieved when Gideon obliged. She slowly unrolled the first section of the scroll and Gideon’s breath caught in his throat.
“I began this two years past,” she said softly. “It is rather self-indulgent, but it chronicles life from my perspective.”
The first person she had drawn was the castellan, Gideon saw. She had perfectly captured his subtle arrogance and the sharp intelligence in his eyes. There were many people Gideon didn’t recognize, but he paused when he came to the depiction of a young woman.
“Who is this? What caused the sadness in her eyes?”
“Sadness is often in her eyes. She lost her husband and now her son has no father. Her name is Zarrah.”
He offered a stiff nod and shifted the scroll. She had drawn Zarrah again, but this time she was with a dark-haired boy. Pride and affection radiated from her expression.
“That is Benjamin, her son.”
Next she had drawn a grouping of people. An elderly man had joined Zarrah and Benjamin. Gideon studied their expressions, denying the knot of emotion forming deep in his chest.
War had exposed him to brutality and ruthlessness. These sketches radiated all of the emotions Gabriel had named—loyalty, joy, tenderness and—love.
He quickly worked his way through the scroll until the drawings stopped and the surface was blank, ready for her next entry.
“You have not drawn Gabriel,” he said, handing it back to her.
She carefully tightened the scroll and secured it with smooth leather thongs. “I have tried. I cannot capture his…” She paused, searching for the right word. “Illumination.”
Gideon made a derisive sound and walked to the window. Bright stars dotted the vast darkness of the sky. He felt restless. He felt empty.
He could hear her shuffling things, moving around, but he didn’t turn and look. Her innocent beauty was more than he could endure right now. Why had she shown him those sketches? Why did she want him to feel ? Why should she care…?
Her scent interrupted his discontent. She stepped up beside him but said nothing.
They stared out into the night. He didn’t touch her and she didn’t speak. She simply shared his isolation. And for the first time in nearly a century Gideon was not alone.
Chapter Seven
Naomi paused outside the castellan’s chamber to gather her composure. Smoothing the plush velvet surcoat down over her hips, she adjusted the angle of her chain-link girdle and took a deep breath.
Leon of Le Puy waited on the other side of the door. Every instinct she possessed warned that he held her future in his hands. The past few days had given Naomi a confidence she had never known before. If she could face down the likes of Gideon, what had she to fear from a mere mortal?
Amused by the thought, she knocked firmly on the door and offered Brother Seth a quick smile as he pulled open the barrier. Brother Aaron stood beside Brother Gabriel. They faced a third man, whose back was to the door.
“Here is Naomi, my lord,” Brother Aaron said as she moved farther into the room.
The stranger turned and her steps faltered. Breath lodged in her lungs, refusing to be expelled. His rich garments and sparkling jewelry bespoke his station in life. She squared her shoulders and reinforced her determination.
I’ll not be intimidated by his regal bearing. He has come looking for me.
“My lord.” She greeted him softly, even managing a small curtsy.
She noticed his eyes next. They were a bright, true green, fringed by thick, dark lashes. His straight brown hair had been neatly trimmed over his ears with the back only slightly longer. Devoid of beard or mustache, the clean planes of his cheeks and jaw made him look almost boyish, but his skin was creased at the corners of his eyes and deep brackets framed his mouth.
“I am Leon,” he introduced himself
Motioning him back to her side of the table, she was obviously relieved when Gideon obliged. She slowly unrolled the first section of the scroll and Gideon’s breath caught in his throat.
“I began this two years past,” she said softly. “It is rather self-indulgent, but it chronicles life from my perspective.”
The first person she had drawn was the castellan, Gideon saw. She had perfectly captured his subtle arrogance and the sharp intelligence in his eyes. There were many people Gideon didn’t recognize, but he paused when he came to the depiction of a young woman.
“Who is this? What caused the sadness in her eyes?”
“Sadness is often in her eyes. She lost her husband and now her son has no father. Her name is Zarrah.”
He offered a stiff nod and shifted the scroll. She had drawn Zarrah again, but this time she was with a dark-haired boy. Pride and affection radiated from her expression.
“That is Benjamin, her son.”
Next she had drawn a grouping of people. An elderly man had joined Zarrah and Benjamin. Gideon studied their expressions, denying the knot of emotion forming deep in his chest.
War had exposed him to brutality and ruthlessness. These sketches radiated all of the emotions Gabriel had named—loyalty, joy, tenderness and—love.
He quickly worked his way through the scroll until the drawings stopped and the surface was blank, ready for her next entry.
“You have not drawn Gabriel,” he said, handing it back to her.
She carefully tightened the scroll and secured it with smooth leather thongs. “I have tried. I cannot capture his…” She paused, searching for the right word. “Illumination.”
Gideon made a derisive sound and walked to the window. Bright stars dotted the vast darkness of the sky. He felt restless. He felt empty.
He could hear her shuffling things, moving around, but he didn’t turn and look. Her innocent beauty was more than he could endure right now. Why had she shown him those sketches? Why did she want him to feel ? Why should she care…?
Her scent interrupted his discontent. She stepped up beside him but said nothing.
They stared out into the night. He didn’t touch her and she didn’t speak. She simply shared his isolation. And for the first time in nearly a century Gideon was not alone.
Chapter Seven
Naomi paused outside the castellan’s chamber to gather her composure. Smoothing the plush velvet surcoat down over her hips, she adjusted the angle of her chain-link girdle and took a deep breath.
Leon of Le Puy waited on the other side of the door. Every instinct she possessed warned that he held her future in his hands. The past few days had given Naomi a confidence she had never known before. If she could face down the likes of Gideon, what had she to fear from a mere mortal?
Amused by the thought, she knocked firmly on the door and offered Brother Seth a quick smile as he pulled open the barrier. Brother Aaron stood beside Brother Gabriel. They faced a third man, whose back was to the door.
“Here is Naomi, my lord,” Brother Aaron said as she moved farther into the room.
The stranger turned and her steps faltered. Breath lodged in her lungs, refusing to be expelled. His rich garments and sparkling jewelry bespoke his station in life. She squared her shoulders and reinforced her determination.
I’ll not be intimidated by his regal bearing. He has come looking for me.
“My lord.” She greeted him softly, even managing a small curtsy.
She noticed his eyes next. They were a bright, true green, fringed by thick, dark lashes. His straight brown hair had been neatly trimmed over his ears with the back only slightly longer. Devoid of beard or mustache, the clean planes of his cheeks and jaw made him look almost boyish, but his skin was creased at the corners of his eyes and deep brackets framed his mouth.
“I am Leon,” he introduced himself
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