Page 49 of Craved By the Cruel Highlander
Yet beneath her excitement, the awareness remained. This was the third outing. When the laughter faded and they returned to the castle, there would be no more delays.
She felt Ian’s hand find hers amid the crowd, his fingers lacing gently through her own.
“Are ye glad we came?” he asked softly.
“Aye,” she answered, squeezing his hand. “Very glad.” And though her heart beat fast with anticipation of what lay ahead, she did not pull away.
A thin man in a deep purple cloak appeared before them as though conjured from the very air. He bowed low, sweeping his hat in a grand arc.
“Me lord, me lady,” he declared in a voice rich with drama, “might I offer a moment of wonder?”
Before Ian could answer, the man flicked his wrist and produced a bright yellow flower from his sleeve.
Arianna gasped and clapped her hands together. “How did ye…?” she began, laughing as he placed the bloom into her palm.
The magician winked. “Trade secrets, me lady.”
Ian narrowed his eyes slightly, though amusement tugged at his mouth. “If ye’ve rabbits hid in that cloak, I warn ye, me wife is fond of them and will take them from ye.”
The magician chuckled. “Nay, sir, only illusions.”
He snapped his fingers, and a small coin seemed to vanish from behind Ian’s ear. Arianna laughed outright, the sound light and unguarded.
“He’s robbed ye in broad daylight,” she teased.
Ian gave the magician a measured look. “Return what ye’ve taken, or I’ll have the guard search yer sleeves.” With a flourish, the coin reappeared between the man’s fingers, and he bowed once more before slipping into the crowd.
A loud horn blast cut through the chatter of the square, and a tall woman in bright red stepped atop a wooden crate.
“Gather round!” she called. “The play shall begin shortly!”
Ian gently touched Arianna’s elbow. “Come,” he said. He guided her toward a simple wooden bench set before a painted wagon that had been transformed into a stage with draped cloth and lanterns.
They sat side by side, knees nearly brushing. Children crowded at the front, settling cross-legged on the ground, their faces alight with anticipation. Arianna leaned forward eagerly, clutching the flower still in her hand.
The play began with a flourish of music as a young man dressed as a wandering knight strode onto the stage. He boasted loudly of his bravery, declaring he would slay a fearsome dragon that had plagued the land. Arianna smiled as the “dragon” appeared moments later, clearly another actor beneath a painted cloth, smoke puffing from a small hidden pot.
The knight stumbled comically at first, dropping his wooden sword and tripping over his own boots. The children roared with laughter, and Arianna covered her mouth to hide her grin.
“He’s nae much of a hero,” she whispered.
“Give him time,” Ian murmured beside her. “All heroes begin as brutes.”
The play shifted when a clever village girl entered the stage, scolding the knight for his foolish pride. She spoke boldly, hands on her hips, telling him courage meant wit as much as strength. Arianna’s eyes brightened at that.
“I like her,” she said softly.
“Aye,” Ian replied. “She’s the clever one, like ye.”
The knight and the girl worked together to trick the dragon, luring it with a fake treasure chest and binding it with ropes while it roared dramatically. The crowd cheered as the dragon fell, defeated not by brute force but by cunning teamwork. Arianna clapped enthusiastically, caught fully in the tale.
When the knight offered the girl a place at his side, she demanded equal standing rather than praise alone. The line drew murmurs of approval from the villagers watching. Arianna felt a small thrill at the boldness of it.
“She kens her worth,” she said quietly.
Ian glanced at her. “As do ye.”
She felt his gaze linger, and her pulse quickened. “I am still learnin’,” she admitted.
