Only the Worthy Read Online Free PDF Page B

they
leaned in and kissed, he felt in awe and gratitude that his heart could feel
this full. As dawn broke over the fields of grain, Royce wished that he could
freeze this moment forever.
    Royce leaned
back and looked at her. Genevieve was gorgeous. In her seventeenth year, as he
was, she was tall, slim, with flowing blond hair and intelligent green eyes, a
smattering of freckles across her dainty features. She had a smile that made
him happy to be alive, and a laugh that put him at ease. More than that, she
had a grace, a nobility, that far outmatched their peasant status.
    Royce saw his
own reflection in her eyes and he marveled that he looked as if he could be
related to her. He was much bigger, of course, tall even for his age, with
shoulders broader than even his older brothers’, a strong chin, a noble nose, a
proud forehead, an abundance of muscle which rippled beneath his frayed tunic,
and light features, like hers. His longish blond hair fell just before his
eyes, while his hazel-green eyes matched hers, albeit a shade darker. He’d been
blessed with strength, and with a skill with the sword that matched his
brothers’, though he was the youngest of the four. His father had always joked
that he had fallen from the sky, and Royce understood: he shared not his
brothers’ dark features or average frame. He was like a stranger in his own
family.
    They embraced,
and it felt so good to be hugged so tightly, to have someone who loved him as
much as he did her. The two of them had, in fact, been inseparable since they
were children, had grown up together playing in these fields, had vowed even
back then that on the summer solstice of their seventeenth year, they would
wed. As children, it had been a deadly serious vow.
    As they’d aged,
year after year, they had not grown apart as most children do, but only closer
together. Against all odds, their vow turned from a childish thing to something
stronger, solemn, unbreakable, year after year after year. Their lives, it
seemed, were never destined to grow apart.
    Now, finally,
unbelievably, the day had arrived. Both were seventeen, the summer solstice had
arrived, they were adults now, free to choose for themselves, and as they stood
there, beneath that tree, watching the sun rise, they each knew, with giddy
excitement, what that meant.
    “Is your mother
excited?” she asked.
    Royce smiled.
    “I think she
loves you more than I, if that is possible,” he laughed.
    Genevieve’s
laugh reached his soul.
    “And your
parents?” he asked.
    Her face
darkened, just for a flash, and his heart fell.
    “Is it me?” he
asked.
    She shook her
head.
    “They love you,”
she replied. “They just…” she sighed. “We are not wed yet. For them it could
not come soon enough. They fear for me.”
    Royce
understood. Her parents feared the nobles. Unwed peasants like Royce and Genevieve
had no rights; if the nobles chose, they could come and take their women away,
claim them for themselves. Until, that is, they were married. Then they would
be safe.
    “Soon enough,” Genevieve
said, her smile brightening.
    “Are they
relieved because it’s me, or because, once wed, you’ll be safe from the
nobles?”
    She laughed and
mock hit him.
    “They love you
as the son they never had!” she said.
    He caught her
arms and kissed her.
    “Royce!” cried a
voice.
    Royce turned to
find his three brothers striding up the hill, in a large group, Genevieve’s
sisters and cousins climbing up with them. They all held sickles and
pitchforks, all of them ready for the day’s labor, and Royce took a deep
breath, knowing the time for parting had come. They were peasants, after all,
and they could not afford to take an entire day off. The wedding would have to
wait for sunset.
    It did not
bother Royce to work on this day, but he felt bad for Genevieve. He wished he
could give her more.
    “I wish you
could take the day off,” Royce said.
    She smiled and
then laughed.
    “Working makes
me happy. It