Age of Faith

Chapter 54

He killed a man. Or so it says. For ten days since his resurrection, Beatrix has tried every door locked in his memory.

Some creaked open wide enough to allow him to peer inside so now remember his flight from Stern Castle with Gaenor, Sir Ewen's death, and Sir Simon's face as he attempted to breach it. Although he remembered a little beyond the hand that had been given to him, he was quite sure he did not appreciate his kindness. But there was a gap between his escape from Sir Ewen's side into the fall.

Suddenly his head was light, he lowered to the chest on the bed and took a deep breath until the feeling passed. Then, just as he had done so many times, he struggled to fill the gap before he returned to consciousness in the abyss when he rolled the knight away from him. But again, the memory he needed to fight the murder charge was denied. However, that was not all he ordered. He needed words to tell what had happened, words that too often teased his tongue, his absence looked foolish.

Four days ago, when she first recalled Sir Simon's attempt to rape her, she begged to meet Baron Lavonne. He ended up waiting two days and when he appeared, it was in vain. Like a moth trying to find light, he had tried to voice it out, but the wound on his head tied his tongue and made the baron impatient. The second visit to his room was his last. So, he would be immediately brought before the sheriff, but even if he knew what was happening, it seemed that there was no result other than the death of— except his birth.

Every day he put himself in front of the window to watch them, convinced they would come, but they did not come. Wh why? The castle was not barricaded, people were allowed to move freely inside and without the walls. Surely he wouldn't stand alone before the sheriff and his accusers? He touched the finger to the urge to anticipate what he was going to say, but even when he spoke about those words before speaking, the tongue and gaze went away as if he were mindless.

She don't. Of course, one would not know it was close when he opened his mouth. He felt the spot where it was cut to sew up his scalp. Although he may never again be like him, he is still alive thanks to the elusive Sir Michael D'Arci yet to appear even though he must have been informed of his recovery. In fear of his arrival, which the attendant said was coming today, Beatrix stood up and once again crossed over to the window.

Shivering in the cool air that supported the sun of his oil cloth, he saw that down shadow on the castle wall. As usual, his delights were tempted into the wood and, leaning forward, he revealed a tree that wished and wished he could reach them. Of course, then what? He might have been able to find his way back to Stern, but now...

He lowered his gaze to the inner bailey. It was busy with people whose work for their master was completed for the day. Now they can return home, relieve hunger, and sleep for tomorrow when they will rise again to serve their master. As if the thought made the baron appear, his huge figure emerged from the stables. He's not alone. Beside him was a man with a clear rank. Michael D'Arci's? It's gotta. And now he will make sure enforcement is upheld.

Beatrix considered the dark-haired man. As he and the baron approached the donjon stairs, the latter said something. Although his words aspire to the Beatrix window high above, they arrive with Michael D'Arci inaccessible? It's gotta. And now he will make sure enforcement is upheld. Beatrix considered the dark-haired man.

Although his words aspire to the Beatrix window high above, they arrive with unreachable passages. But there was no mistaking the name that fell from time, nor did it cause the blond-haired man to stiffen and look around. His face that was exposed made Beatrix's breath stop. Even in the distance, he knew his face, for it was the face of Sir Simon— - though crowned by black hair, not blond. He clenched his attention to the realization that he would soon stand in front of someone who rewarded him with that crime would definitely cause his words.

Although he was not as big as Baron Lavonne, from the shadow on his face, he might as well be a giant. He looked up, and although Beatrix knew he was invisible among the shadows, she took a step back. The wrinkles on his face made him dark. And as surely as she was breathing, she knew she knew it was in her room she was looking at. He flipped, took his psalm off the bed table, and pressed it to the side.

The relief he felt while discovering on the day of his resurrection. Telling himself that the word of God would sustain him, he opened the psalm and sat down to wait for Sir Simon's vengeful relatives. Hours passed, dinner was delivered, more hours passed, and he still did not come. When the eyelids become heavy, she slides down the blanket. “God,” whispered, “You allowed me to survive a fall that I shouldn't have experienced, but certainly not for this. Pray, reveal back to me what I want to do.” 'You're the devil, Michael. Not in all respects, but some—i.e., women.

But he had a good reason. And now, more than that. Michael recalls it again about the lonely young man who followed him to the roof of their father's donjon years earlier. He's the night breeze lifting Simon's blonde hair and seeing a troubled face.If I could be like you, Michael.If he knew what it was like to be Michael D'Arci, an unwelcome man at most royals' desks, drawing breath past the bitterness, Michael opened his review and began to ignore the rhythm on the window sill.

He hated waiting for anything or anyone, especially a murderer whose face had to face an angel.There was no just servant who would want me.And for that, Simon should be grateful, Michael was saddened by his brother's situation, especially when he saw the moonlight glittering in the boy's tears.Tears for fear he might never know a woman.Michael to the colonnaded bed where to see the figure of Beatrix Wulfrith played by the light of a torch the dim.

Despite facing the wall, denying her the look of beauty entirely, the slender curves of her neck are visible, so does the ear part and the slope of the cheekbones that are swept away by pale golden hair.The deceptive beauty.There is no woman to be underestimated, even his stepmother who had been a mother to him.I will be a man and mother will make me remain a boy, Simon's voice finds again.The mother of the boy loves him too much, trying to remember about Simon's trying head, his shoulders, and the crying that jolted the young man's body, Michael returned his focus to bed, given the amount of wine he had consumed before.

Too much, as evidenced by his presence in the woman's room when swearing he would wait until tomorrow.But he was only two doors from the room given to him, and he could not sleep.To resist the urge to look for her, he was, he put on his coat and walked on the outside wall for an hour, but when he returned to the donjon and approached the door ...