A/N: These next two are a bit short, sorry about that! Anyway, I've had to alter the plot a bit to keep it going in the direction that I want. So the next few chapters need to be rewritten. Just giving you a heads up on the delay this time! Thanks to all my lovely readers! :) -CPop.
Three more days passed before Mariella was permitted to rise from bed. The day she had chosen to strolls the streets of Southshore again couldn't have been a prettier one.
The skies seemed bluer and the grasses were greener, and everywhere she looked there was a colorful bird twittering or a bright-eyed, bushy-tailed squirrel scuttling around tree limbs. Great white cotton balls of cloud drifted lazily in the endless pool of blazing blue that was the sky. For some reason, they reminded her of Kennon and even still, this thought did not dampen her spirits.
However, what she saw next, gave her high spirits a run for their money.
Sergeant Dean was standing beside his noble, chestnut mare, Loxi. Her saddle bags were packed full and a small crowd was gathered around the caravan that was to leave for Ironforge, as well.
Lady Lorraine, draped in a delicate dress of soft pink, was standing before him, a silk kercheif clutched in her dainty gloved hands. As she watched, Lorraine let out a sob, audible even to Mariella who stood almost twenty feet away. The Sergeant looked surprised and somewhat baffled for a moment before pulling the weeping maiden into his arms. They were exchanging words but they were too soft spoken to carry on the breeze to Mariella's eavesdropping ears.
Her stomach churned violently as they suddenly shared a long kiss. Feeling strange and intrusive for watching, Mariella was about to turn away when the Sergeant released his lady and turned to mount Loxi. In doing so, his eye caught Mariella's.
The guardswoman froze, feeling like a deer that had just been sighted by a hunter. To her utter dismay, he removed his foot from the stirrup and began to come toward her.
She stood rooted to the spot, feeling as if she were an eight-year-old on the Wendell farm again, wondering if she should flee. Her theory as a child had always been that, perhaps if she ran far and fast enough, her unwanted feelings would never catch her.
He came to stand directly in front of her. He was so tall. Mariella hardly came up to his chin.
"I won't be gone long, Mariella," he said, his blue eyes burning intensely into her own amber ones. "Take care of yourself, aye?"
Mariella swallowed hard.
"Aye, sir," she said softly.
"That's an order," he said with a ghost of a smile, reminding her of their encounter on the beaches so many months ago. She smiled weakly back.
"I expect to find you in one piece and fully recovered upon my return," he said, reaching forward and squeezing her shoulder comfortingly. "I need you here with me."
With one last blazing look, he turned away, leaving Mariella to contemplate all of the possible meanings of his parting words.
Watching Sergeant Dean's retreating back, Mariella caught sight of Lady Lorraine.
If looks could kill, Mariella was sure she would be back in the hospital wing right at that very moment.