At one point in the story, Peter had slipped out of his arms to sit with the other children. Now Zuri sat with one leg crossed over the other, his hands folded upon his chest.
One would think he sat there to judge the tale-bearer.
"Life in Wisteria really is good to you, Zuri," a familiar voice said behind him.
Zuri looked up to see Goodwin standing there with a wide grin upon his face.
"And you seem to be getting rather used to calling me by name, Lord Naman." Zuri replied, a slight edge in his voice. Goodwin caught it instantly.
"You were the one who forced me to call you by name!" he accused as he sat beside him on the bench.
Zuri simply cast him a sidelong glance, then focused his gaze upon the woman whose tale was drawing to an end.
Silently, Goodwin stared at his master, and a faint smile touched his lips.
He had always known there was a side beyond the cold presence Zuriel Hezron carried about him. Yet he had not expected to ever see the man…
At ease.
He was every bit the man he had served under in battle, yet there was something different now.
Something less heavy in his presence.
"If you stare any further, your people might think you have a thing for the gardener," Zuri said. Goodwin's face twisted in instant disgust.
"And when are you going to hand over what you have tucked inside your robe?"
Goodwin's eyes widened. "How did you—"
"Only a fool would fail to realize you have something tucked in there, when your palm has been tapping upon your chest the entire time."
Goodwin nodded in admiration. Indeed, he was still the same Zuriel Hezron. Wisteria could only tame him, not change him.
"It arrived earlier this afternoon for you." He pulled a white envelope from his pocket, the words To Z.H written upon it.
Zuriel stared at the letter for some seconds before accepting it. As he did, he slipped it into his pocket, for the tales had ended—and she was approaching.
"My Lord!" Her voice, as bold and loud as ever, sounded close as parents began to lead their children home. "You came! Was this man being rude again?" she asked, pointing at Zuri.
"No. In fact, I would say he has never been of better behavior—and it is all thanks to you I suppose."
"Indeed, I am doing my very best to shape this one into a man of respect and honor." She tapped Zuri's shoulder as she would a comrade, and he merely shook his head and rose to his feet.
"This honorable man would like to turn in for the ni—" He paused as she suddenly held on to his sleeve. He knew instinctively he was about to be dragged off somewhere again.
"Come with me," she said eagerly.
In truth, he wanted to return to his space and read the letter Goodwin had just delivered. Yet he asked, "Where to?" then added, "I am exhausted, Damaris."
"Then come with me," she said again. "Let me show you how a young bachelor like you washes off the day's tiredness."
For a moment, her words replayed in his mind. Then something came to him—his head tilted, a mischievous smile crawling unto his lips.
As though she could read his mind, she took a few steps away from him, a playful, reprimanding gaze upon her face, "Whatever you just thought of is not what I mean," she quickly clarified. His smile only broadened.
"What do you think I thought of?" he inquired, closing the gap she had made between them.
Damaris' gaze remained.
Unwavered. Unintimidated.
"You know what you thought of," she accused, matching his teasing gaze with audacious eyes.
"You both do realize I am still here, right?" said Goodwin, who had been watching them with his mouth open in shock and embarrassment all at once.
When no one seemed to care about the lord of the manor—not even his faithful Damaris—he rose to his feet, mumbled about the betrayal, and walked away with the others who were heading to their various homes.
"Where do you wish to take me?" Zuri finally asked.
A proud grin unfurled across her face. "A place where golden water flows down your throat, rich music speaks to your soul, and your eyes feast on the most exquisite enchantment you will ever behold."
When she said it like that, what man would refuse?
Zuri was but a man, after all.