Tuesday Tales – Chocolate

Hey everyone!  Welcome to another Tuesday Tales.  This week’s word prompt is “chocolate”.  We are back with Miranda and Thatcher in The Thirteenth Knight.  And don’t forget to stop by and check out the other wonderful writers involved with Tuesday Tales!

Miranda wandered along the garden paths, ignoring the leaves on the trees blazing in brilliant autumn color or the rows and rows of late blooming blossoms.  She wrapped her arms around herself to block out the chill in the air.

She was in disbelief.  Thatcher was here, in the palace, serving her uncle in the closest capacity one could serve the king.  He would be in the palace protecting Thaddeus, protecting her.  He would be so close yet still…

“Is everything all right, my lady?”

Miranda spun around, finding Thatcher behind her.  She took a moment to soak him in.  He wore a gold embroidered maroon tunic and chocolate brown trousers of a knight.  His short black hair, chiseled, muscular body and sapphire blue eyes were that of her Thatcher.  He quickly untied his cloak then crossed the browning grass to her draping it over her shoulders.

“Miranda, you are freezing.”

“Why are you here?” she breathed.

“I thought your uncle explained it perfectly.”

“You joined the army.”

“Yes.”

“I was that easy to forget.”

“No, Miranda.  I joined to find my way to you.  Even I know Thaddeus isn’t going to marry you to a farmer’s son.  The only way for me to reclaim your hand is to work for it, shed my blood for it.”  He opened his arms wide in presentation.  “To become one of his knights.”

Tears filled Miranda’s eyes.  “Oh Thatcher.”

He pulled her into his arms.  “What is it, Miranda?  Tell me.”

She took a deep breath to steady her trembling voice.  “Thaddeus has spoken to me of my impending marriage.  As next in line to the throne, I can be married to no less than a lord.  I love you with all my heart, Thatcher.  I will until my final breath.  But by my uncle’s  own words I will never be able to be your wife.”

She pulled free from Thatcher’s grasp as she heard approaching steps.  Through swollen eyes she gazed up guiltily at Thaddeus.

“What is the meaning of this?” he demanded.  “I sent Thatcher out to see if you were all right.  I thought since you both came from the same village it would be special for some time alone with an old friend from home.  But to find you in his arms…”

Miranda looked away from her uncle.  From the corner of her eye she could see his glare flicker between her and Thatcher.  Then his gaze softened.  “Thatcher, what does your father do?”

“He is a farmer, your majesty.”

Thaddeus shook his head.  “I did not realize, Miranda.  I did not know Thatcher was your young man.  I did not intend to make this decision I have to make concerning your marriage worse for you…”

It was all Miranda could stand.  With a sob she fled the two men in the garden and sprinted to her bedchamber.

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