The blacksmith folded his big arms in front of him. “Then what?”
She locked eyes with him. That was always the first step. His eyes were steel blue, cold yet warm. Full of strength and determination, but also an underlying compassion and understanding.
Things came then, as they always did. Bits, pieces, fragments of thought. Emotion. Will…
“I said—”
But then something else happened. Something that had never happened before in all the times she’d read someone.
Melody got too much.
Her eyes widened as her mind took in even more stimuli, even more perception and awareness than normal. Thoughts, feelings, sentiments of grief, of sorrow, of remorse… these things flew through her head, spinning out rapidly and gaining in strength and speed until Melody was reeling with the sheer weight of it all.
She grew increasingly dizzy. More and more alarmed as the thoughts kept coming, all seemingly without end. Melody felt hope fall to desperation, goodness give way to menace. The man standing before her represented a never-ending stream of pure consciousness — a wave of unchecked emotion that threatened to drown her in imprints of tragedy and heartbreak, of joy and love and ultimate sorrow. She felt the terrible anguish of crushing loss. The abject terror of near limitless fear, along with unfathomable depths of regret.
And there was confusion too. Confusion and hopelessness and eventually, a grim resignation so dark, so depressing, it sent a frozen shudder rocketing throughout her entire body.
She swooned and then fell… and Lucus caught her. It broke their gaze, broke the connection. When she came to her senses Melody was being held against the smith’s chest, wrapped in his two strong arms. She could feel his heart, beating powerfully beneath the surface of her cheek.
“W—What happened?”
“You fainted,” said Lucus.
“I did?”
“You did.”
She felt stupid. Wanted to get up immediately. But his arms felt too good. His closeness… and again, that strange familiarity, that made him less of a stranger and more of a—
“Thanks for catching me,” Melody said, pulling herself upright. She wiped her forehead with the back of one hand. “I— I must have…”
“Come with me,” Lucus told her suddenly. “I have what you need.”
He stomped off, leaving her wide-eyed and still a bit woozy.
Does he have the egg? she thought hopefully. Is that what he’s talking about?
Hurrying along, she followed him into the carriage house. Lucus led her through the interior, beyond a pair of inner doors and into what appeared to be a living area. There was a chest, a wardrobe, a small table with two tiny chairs. A tall ladder led up to a high-flung loft. Melody glanced upward, wondering if the man truly slept there.
Her host opened the wardrobe and began rummaging through it. He paused for a moment, as if considering something, then turned and handed her a simple cloth dress.
“Here,” said Lucus. “This is li
ghter, and much easier for you to wear than that ball gown.”
Melody glanced down, taking stock of herself. It couldn’t have been more than an hour after dawn and already she was sweating bullets.
“That’s why you passed out, isn’t it?” asked Lucus. “You’re too hot?”
“Yes,” she said quickly. “That’s probably it.”
“There you go, then.”
The dress she was holding was actually somewhat pretty. It looked handmade.
“Where’d you get this?”
“It was my sister’s,” Lucus replied.