Once Upon an Autumn Eve Read Online Free PDF

pain and said, “I’ll be all right.”
    “ ’Tis some sort of magic,” said Margaux. She gestured toward one of the women. “Aurélie discovered it, much to her dismay, even as we disrobed him.”
    “For protection, I would say,” said Zacharie.
    “What?” said Liaze, turning toward the gaunt steward.
    “The pendant,” said Zacharie, looking away. “I believe it is some sort of protective charm.”
    “It did not save him from a blow to the head,” said Liaze.
    Zacharie shrugged and turned up his hands.
    “Goblins, a Troll, a tall and handsome and mysterious knight,” said Zoé, “and now a magic amulet. What is it all about?”
    Liaze shook her head. “We’ll just have to wait until he regains consciousness.”
    “On the morrow,” said Margeaux. “I think I can safely say that by then he will be awake.”
    Liaze sighed and nodded and said, “Come, Zoé, I believe I’ll have that bath after all.”
    Not bothering to clutch the cloak tight, with wide strides the princess headed for her chambers, Zoé running ahead. Behind, Rémy finally sheathed his dagger and then set out to canvass the various guard stations, while Zacharie went to the stables to see what the chevalier had borne upon his midnight-dark horse.

4
    Reflections
    A s she luxuriated in the warm water, Liaze’s thoughts kept spinning back to the knight and his dark, dark eyes of blue and his black hair and what he had said: “Mon ange. Mon bel ange.”
    Why did he affect me so? It’s not as if I haven’t had liaisons with men ere now—there was Duc Laurent, and Comte Benoît, and the Baronet Yves, but he was just a fling when I discovered the comte was after Autumnwood and not my heart—yet none of them thrilled me to the core with nought but a glance as did this wounded man in the infirmary. But why? He said only five words in all: “Mon ange. Mon bel ange.”
    Liaze’s heart echoed and reechoed with those five words— “Mon ange. Mon bel ange” —and whenever she closed her own amber eyes, she saw his of indigo.
    Snap out of it, Liaze! He is a stranger and you know nothing of him. He could be nought but a poor hedge knight, yet would that make any difference? Josette, though, said his clothing is of luxurious cloth and sewn with a fine hand. She thinks he comes from wealth, but he could have won them in a tournament. Ah me, he could be a terrible bore, a selfish pig. A fortune hunter, as was the comte. Still, I hope not, for I would— Liaze veered away from those thoughts.
    “Mon ange. Mon bel ange.”
    Handsome he is and tall and slender, though but for a brief moment, I’ve only seen him lying down.—Oh, I do hope he is taller than my own height, for—Ah, Liaze, already you are spinning dreams. Still, he seemed tall when I saw him upon his steed, though he was falling off even as he came into sight. Yet he nigh filled the infirmary bed from headboard to foot. I wonder how he would look in my own bed—Now stop it, Liaze! You are giving to him in your day-dreams that which you might not in truth. After all, what do you know of him? Nothing, that’s what. Still, he must be a mighty fighter—broken sword and all. And he is sturdy, for Margaux said he had taken a terrible beating, but he managed to stay on his steed ... for a while, at least. And he—Oh, I remember now. He had a silver horn on a baldric at his side. He was the one who sounded the alert. A noble deed, that . . . or was it a cry for aid? Ah, but—
    “Here is your wine, my lady,” said Zoé, stepping into the bathing chamber. “Oh, my, you’ve put out the lamp and lit the scented candles. How nice.” She held out the goblet of dark red wine to Liaze.
    Liaze sighed and reached up for the drink and took a sip and then set it on the edge of the bronze tub.
    Zoé, humming to herself, went about fluffing towels and draped one over the fireguard to warm it for the princess. Then she whirled around and danced about and laughed. Of a sudden she sobered, and