"There you are, Bessie," Liam said, patting the cow on her haunches. "We'll get you nice and ready to go in a moment."
He'd already attached the milking machine to her. The cow looked over her shoulder at him and let out a low moo.
"That's right," he said, gently stroking her backside. "You won't be uncomfortable any longer."
He stepped out of the stall the cow had moved her way into. There was a low thrum that seemed to fill the room. The feeling of potential mana ready to be unleashed.
As always, that thrum seemed to pulse inside him as well. Liam knew that was the mana in his own essence that was pulsing in time with some of the magic in the room. It was a feeling that only got stronger as he got older and closer to his twenty-first.
He shook his head and focused back on his work. Best not to think about any of that. Best not to hope for anything beyond what he already had. What he should be thankful that he had.
Even if that damnable princeling coming to town had ruined what he thought he might have someday.
"Why do you always call her that?"
Liam blinked and looked up. Andrea stood there, golden hair framing her face. The morning light streaming through the door turned that golden hair to a halo.
She looked at him with a pair of big blue eyes that had him breaking out into a sweat and feeling a strange churning in his stomach more often than not these days.
An odd development for somebody he'd grown up with. Though they were very different people from very different stations in life. Something he was reminded of almost daily thanks to the princeling.
"She just looks like a Bessie," he said, covering his discomfort by slapping the cow on the backside. Which earned him a low and indignant moo.
"I know, girl," he said, turning that slap into a gentle pat. "I shouldn't be so rough with you, right?"
"Her name is Besmeralda," Andrea said. "She's named for one of the great queens."
"I know," Liam said, dry-washing his hands and slapping them together.
As he dry-washed those hands he was hit with something odd. A sudden vision of an impossible heat that suddenly went away. A face with wisps of hair flying around this way and that dry-washing his hands.
And then it was gone and he was back in reality.
"You shouldn't besmirch the memory of a great queen by calling her Bessie," Andrea said.
"Well, she is a queen of giving your father milk, and she deserves a name that's befitting that noble goal," Liam said.
"Whatever," Andrea said, rolling her eyes.
Liam grinned at her, but then that grin froze as he looked her up and down. Really looked her up and down for the first time.
"You don't seem to be dressed for a day roaming the property," he said.
She looked down at the dress. She slowly smoothed it out. Again, he felt that uncomfortable churning in his stomach as he looked at her in that dress, as he thought...
But no, that wasn't proper. She was his lord's daughter, and Baron Riven had already done so much for him. The last thing he should do is repay all of that kindness by looking at the lord’s daughter inappropriately.
Though he did allow himself to feel a little upset that she was going to be going out to meet that pompous ass again.
"Going out to see your little princeling, no doubt," he said, trying to keep his tone neutral as he moved through the barn and made sure everything was set up correctly before he turned on the milking machine.
"He's not a princeling," Andrea said, rolling her eyes as they launched into a debate that had been raging in between the two of them for a couple of months now.
Life had seemed so simple before that asshole came into town. Before Liam realized what was going on between the future Viscount Atherton and Andrea.
"Well, he's as high as might as well be a princeling," he said, turning and grinning at her, even though he didn't quite feel that grin. No, the only thing that he felt was a white-hot rage for a moment.
She frowned. "I've told you time and again, he's the son of a viscount.”
"He's a son of a something," Liam muttered.
"Liam," Andrea chided gently. "That's not a very polite thing to say, especially to a viscount’s son."
"My apologies, my lady," he said, turning back to her and sketching a quick bow. "I wouldn't dream of insulting my betters.”
Her mouth compressed to a thin frown. "You do need to be more careful about that, at the very least."
Everything was ready. He flipped the switch to turn on the milking machine. The low magical hum that had filled the room turned into a large thrum that seemed to fill everything all around him. He felt that pulsing in his body moving in time with the machine.
Even Andrea closed her eyes and smiled ever so slightly. A little shiver ran through her body as well.
"You feel it too?" Liam asked.
"I do," she said. "That single point in the core of my essence thrumming along with the magic."
Liam managed to school his face to an impassive look. That wasn't the first time somebody had described the feeling of magic, of mana coursing through the air around them. How it felt like there was a single point inside them that was thrumming along with the mana that buzzed all around them.
Because that wasn't what was happening with him. No. It felt like there were two points that were thrumming in counterpoint to one another deep inside his body. Not for the first time, he wondered about that, but he kept silent about it.
The one seemed to flare when he was near any of the magic on the estate. The other only seemed to pulse when he was out in the Felwood hunting some demon or another.
Not the kind of thing to talk about in polite company. Or in any company, for that matter. Not if he didn’t want the Inquisition coming for him, at least.
It's not like he’d ever be able to go off and do anything about the mana pulsing inside him. Sure, there were stories of people who were selected by the Royal Academy to go off and learn magic, but that wasn't him. That wasn't the life that a lowly, orphaned farmhand could ever hope for.
It wasn't the kind of life he'd ever hoped for, for that matter. His life on the farm was simple. What more could someone ask for out of life? No, simple was best.
He almost believed it.
"Anyway," he said, moving to brush past her and out of the barn. He had other things to do today, after all.
Only Andrea stopped him with a hand on his arm. He looked down. It was a simple touch. A light touch. A touch that had goosebumps rising all up and down his body. A touch that held him in place as though it was the great sorcerer Albert come back from the dead and out of the horrors from just before they were born to hold him in place with magical manacles.
He blinked again. There was a brief flash. A face with a long, flowing beard staring down at him. Smiling like the end of the world, and then it was gone.
"Liam. I don't know why you get like this," Andrea said.
He stared down at her. He looked at the way her chest rose and fell under that dress. He looked at the way it seemed to form to her. He knew that it was all for the little princeling, and he resented the hells out of it.
And it was impressive to resent the hells out of something, considering the hells were pretty close by. Just on the other side of the Felwood to the Scar and the ruins of Isai.
"I don't know what you're talking about," he lied.
"Come on, Liam," she said, putting a hand against his chest. She looked up at him and blinked with those deep blue eyes. Eyes that he found himself getting lost in all over again. That strange, queasy feeling in his stomach only got more and more pronounced.
He knew exactly what it meant. He'd known what it meant for years. He'd denied it for years.
And he was going to deny it for at least one more day.
"Things used to be so much simpler," she said, sighing and looking down and away.
"They did," he allowed, knowing they could never go back to those simpler times.
She looked out over her father's land. At the rolling hills and pastures that the animals used for grazing. At the woods beyond that. Woods they'd gone exploring in, even though her father always told them to stay away. Always told them there was a possibility of felbeasts appearing there.
Though that wasn’t the Felwood proper. They rarely appeared there. Mostly thanks to Liam in recent years.
"You could just take that dress off," he said, smiling down at her.
Her eyes darted back to his in an instant. She blinked a couple of times, and she looked scandalized. He blushed as he realized what he'd just said and how it could be taken.
But he also noted something interesting. She was blushing as well as she stared up at him. Her mouth had parted, and she looked almost like she enjoyed that idea.
It made him wonder if she was as happy at being forced to spend time with the princeling as he was at the idea of her having to go out and spend time with the bastard.
"Liam," she said, smacking his chest. "That's terrible."
"I meant you could go and put on some of your pants and a comfortable shirt. We could go out roaming in the forest just like old times."
"Liam, I would love to," she said, looking down and away from him again, though her hand lingered on his chest. He liked it when her hand lingered on his chest. "But you know I can't. I have to think about…”
"Yes, you have to think about your land and your titles, and all that important stuff that will never matter to someone like me."
He sighed. It really had been so simple when they were younger. When they were just two kids playing together. When he could enjoy her company and he didn't have to worry about the yawning gulf between them because he was a lowly orphan who'd been taken in by her father, and she was the daughter of the local baron.
"I really wish I could, Liam," she said, and she seemed to regret that she couldn't, but that wasn't going to stop her from going ahead with her appointment with the princeling. Liam refused to call it a date, even in his head.
"We all have our place in life, I suppose," Liam said.
"Liam!”
The call rang out across the land. It was a loud and booming voice, and it immediately had Andrea standing a little straighter. She pulled her hand away from Liam's chest, and her eyes darted around like she was afraid her father would catch her standing so close to him.
Only that booming voice was coming from the other side of the barn. There were times when it seemed like the man had eyes everywhere, but even he couldn't see through the walls and the cows.
"Liam!” the voice bellowed again. "We've got some work for you to do!”
Liam looked back to her and grinned.
"Well, it seems the reason why he always tolerated us going through the forest has come back to bite me again."
Concern suddenly showed in Andrea's eyes as she put both of her hands against his chest. He stepped up just a little and her face was impossibly close to his. He could lean in and press his lips against hers.
It brought to mind one glorious night out in the forest when the two of them had been close and he'd looked at her, and she'd leaned in and...
"Be careful," she said, her eyes darting back and forth and searching his own.
"I always am," he said.
"That's what I'm worried about," she said.
"Liam, today!” The voice bellowed.
Andrea jumped again, and blinked. She seemed to realize she was standing so close to him, and she jumped away as though he was a felbeast himself.
She gave him one final up and down.
"Be careful. I mean it. Don't pull any of your usual shenanigans."
"Of course, my lady," he said, sketching a bow which only earned him even more of a frown. She let out a frustrated growl and whirled around, her dress twirling with her, and stomped off towards the main house.
"Fine," she shouted over her shoulder. "Get eaten by felbeasts for all I care."
Liam grinned and shook his head as she stalked off. "That could've gone better."