Page 111 of The Knucker King

“Can I stop now?” Ashling asked.

“Yes, get some rest,” she encouraged.

The Wisp dipped in the air and floated over to the hearth.

“Alright, time for you to take off your hose and go outside.” Avice offered her arms to him.

Trewoofe jolted. “I am sorry, what?”

Avice huffed. “Lord, I really need you to keep up with me here. You are taking Mary to the Underneath. I am going to attend to the mother. You should change to take her to your well; you will be much faster as a Knucker than a man.” She pointed to the door. “Also, you are huge, you would flatten my home if you changed inside.”

“Avice your thoughts are striking faster than lightning, and I cannot keep up with the speed of your mind. Will you not come with me to Knucker Hill? Or allow me to take you to the mother?” he asked, desperate for a scrap of more time with her.

She did not hesitate. “No, this is what is best for them, and how we can help both the most quickly. You will go to the well, and I will go to Emma.”

Doubt gnawed at him, and while she was not being cruel to him, this stoic practicality made him feel rejected. She had slipped her mask back on. The Avice before him was the version more digestible to the villagers of Lamorna. Gone was his Avice, the one who would toss a spoon, snuggle into him, braid blooms into his hair, dance with him in the flowers, and kiss him under the Moonbeams.

“Am I still courting you?” he blurted, unable to keep up with the switch.

Avice bristled, and he immediately knew he had erred with his question. “Lord, do you think me so fickle?”

“Of course not.” He shifted the sleeping child from his arms to hers. “I am feeling… overwhelmed. I had hoped today that we may have that discussion about our courtship that you mentioned last night.”

She pressed Mary to her chest. “So did I, but the day is conspiring against us.” Avice looked up at him then, face pinched and expression raw. “I very, very much want you to court me.” She bit her lip. “More than anything.”

All his doubts evaporated, and he swooped to press a kiss to her forehead. “So do I.”

He beamed down at her as she rewarded him with a light sigh. Trewoofe began to fumble with the laces of his hose, ready to do as she had planned. Avice’s gaze dropped to his hips. She flushed and turned away, jiggling the baby in her arms. Once he was bare, Trewoofe ghosted his claws over the nape of her neck, tickling the whorls of ink, making her roll her shoulders and giggle.

“I will meet you outside,” he said, before opening the door and stepping out into the garden.

42

Chapter 42

Avice

Avice let out a sharp exhale as she closed the door behind him.

She wanted to weep, she wanted to rage, and she wanted him to whisk her into the woods to make love to her in a meadow of wildflowers. Most of all, she simply wanted to be with him. Yet, their blossoming courtship had to be put aside for the good of the baby and the mother.

She knew it was the right thing to do and that they had time for their relationship to grow. Avice, though, had spent most of her life being careful, quiet, and patient. She had always tried to fit into the designated space that Lamorna – and Christendom itself – had drawn out for her.

It was too small.

Too stifling.

She was sick of it.

“Little witch,” Trewoofe called from the garden.

His Knucker voice rumbled the ground beneath her feet and reverberated up her spine, making her lightheaded for a blink. Mary squirmed from the noise and let out a grunt. Avice shushed her and shifted her into the crook of one arm. She reached for her medical satchel and strapped it over her shoulder.

Bramble nosed the baby. Poor pup. He pricked his ears. Are you ready?

She shoved her iron knife into her belt. “I am.”

Avice squinted and shielded her face from the Spring sunshine as she stepped out from under the eaves. The brightness was startling after so many days with only darkness and the flickering fire. She blinked several times as her eyes adjusted to the light.