Dun-dun-duuuuun ! Here's the next part for those who're dying to know what happened (I don't want to be charged for murder, so don't die on me now) . As usual, I hope you like it and that you let me know what you think (and a vote is never bad *cough cough*)
And then Bors, Gods bless his soul, saved the night:
-Is it just me, or did it suddenly get hot in here?-he roared with a teasing tone.
She could’ve kissed the man. Everyone burst into laughter, clapping and teasing them with cheers. Some even started calling out to Lancelot, yelling at him to kiss her (some even dared him to do more than that); but she shook her head at the smug audience, holding back a smile. She couldn’t have handled anymore of the dark knight right now without hell breaking lose, and the both knew it.
-It’s the ale, you idiot-she called to the burly man, forcing a smile back to her face-Ale warms ya’ up, and you, my friend, are so bloody drunk you won’t be pissing straight these night…again!-.
Laughter rang around her, and she retrieved her peace of mind. The air seemed light again and safe to breathe. With a heavy sight she pushed her way to the counter, stole a cup from a man right under his nose and emptied it in four swallows. The liquor burned like boiling oil down her throat and she coughed.
-Woow-Vanora took the cup from her-Easy, Dev. That’s the strongest wine we serve -.
-Fantastic. Because I intend to outdrink your own lover and end with such a hung over I’ll have to stay in bed for a week-.
She hadn’t been thinking; completely caught up in the bloody spell of Lancelot’s black eyes and some bloody, stupid suggestive music. Damn it.
Vanora could see the frustration in her friend’s face.
-Stop drinking and talk to me-.
Devnet pouted as she looked straight into the hazel eyes of her best friend. Like a little girl that wanted to defy her mother, she took another sip of ale from a second cup she’d poured to herself.
-I just don’t want anyone to…-she paused and lowered her voice, leaning to whisper to her friend-I don’t want the others to find out there is more to Lancelot and me than what they imagine. It’d just cause unnecessary trouble…-.
-Why do you think that?-Vanora seemed rather surprise. She picked and empty cup and cleaned it with a cloth-I believe it’s only to be expected. You’ve spend your entire life surrounded by this men. They are closer to you than anyone else. I always knew you’d end up bedding one or two…maybe even marry one of them-.
Devnet let out a laugh.
-That is so not going to happen. Save for Lance, they’re all like brothers to me. I mean, I could’ve had and actual brother of my own flesh and blood, and there wouldn’t had been any difference. As for Lancelot…I don’t even think he knows what the word “marriage” means-that was true-No, no, that part of our relationship is purely carnal, no feelings involved-only half true.
-I get your point. Still, it shouldn’t surprise any of them that you’ve shared bed with Lancelot. It was bound to happen anyway-she smirked-To be honest, they must have seen it coming. You two could light up the midnight bonfire with your little game-.
Devnet traced the border of her cup absentmindedly with her finger.
-It’s not about whether they saw it coming or not. It’s because they overprotect me. All of them. They all’ll go nuts. You know Lance is not exactly the man you’d want near your little sister. I mean, the flirting, even some kissing they could handle, there’s no harm in that. But if they find out about our “friends with benefits” thing; Woads and Saxons be damned, forget about Rome, to hell with the contract. It’s us they’ll go after-.
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The Girl Whose Name Was A PoemHistorical Fiction
"For years the Roman Empire has used descendants of the Sarmatian cavalry to guard their empire's fronteirs, enslaving them in an unfair contract made centuries before their birth. They dream of freedom." Devnet Allaine, daughter to a celtic prieste...