Total pages in book: 108
Estimated words: 99206 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 496(@200wpm)___ 397(@250wpm)___ 331(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 99206 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 496(@200wpm)___ 397(@250wpm)___ 331(@300wpm)
After promising her mother she would visit soon, she returned to the keep. Her first thought was to speak with Brigid, but she realized she would rather be alone with her thoughts. She needed some solitude to think over her concerns.
And her first was, if what existed between Magnus and her gave her concern, then how could she think of it as love? She shook her head at her own doubts and climbed the staircase slowly.
Once in her room, the door closed behind her and she went to her table, lit the many candles, and reached at a small wooden bowl for a well-used piece of charcoal. She began to draw. She did not want to think at the moment, she had thought enough and had solved nothing, nor had she reached any conclusions or made any decisions. Her mind needed clearing so that her thoughts would make more sense, and the only way to achieve a clear mind was to draw.
Time stood still when she took charcoal in hand; nothing mattered but what she was creating on paper. Sometimes she did not even consider what she would draw—she allowed her mind and hand free rein. She always appreciated the results and was even surprised at times.
The knock on her door went unheard and unanswered, and she did not hear when the door opened and Magnus entered. He closed the door quietly and watched her work from where he stood.
The flickers of light from the candles caused shadows and light to dance as equal partners across her lovely features. Her hands flowed like a perfect melody across her paper. She was lost in her drawing. He had seen her time and time again just like this. He had entered her room without her knowing, so engrossed had she been in her drawings. He would watch her draw, watch the way she chewed at her bottom lip in thought, how she rubbed her chin when deciding where to go next, how her chin or nose forever wore a smudge of charcoal.
The familiar scene warmed his heart. He could sit content by the hearth for hours watching her just as she was, and with a nod to his own thoughts he sat in the chair next to the fireplace.
Reena stared at the drawing, the piece of charcoal a mere stub. She had worked diligently for hours and had produced a stunning piece of work that completely surprised her and produced heartfelt emotions.
She studied every line and stroke, amazed by her own skills, yet grateful. What she recorded would live on long after she was gone, and it would be there for many to see and enjoy and learn.
A strange sound interrupted her thoughts, and she quickly looked about the room. She was stunned to see Magnus asleep in the chair near the hearth.
Asleep and snoring.
With drawing in hand she walked over to him and quietly kneeled in front of him. His head rested to the side, his one arm was draped over the arm of the chair, his other arm rested on his leg. He wore all dark garments as usual, though he wore no leather tunic and his long hair looked alive with bursts of sunlight, the fire’s glow highlighting the sun-colored strands.
He was a handsome man even when he slept and far from a legend, since he snored like the common man. It was not a heavy snore, but deep and steady, almost rhythmic in nature.
She listened to the delightful melody, giggling when it reached a crescendo then slowed before it began again. She should wake him, but he appeared so very content. The thought that he had not disturbed her when he had entered her bedchamber and seen her drawing but had sat beside her hearth to wait warmed her heart and endeared him to her all the more.
His snoring crested once again, only this time more loudly than before. He woke himself up.
Reena giggled as he sat up with a start.
“I do not snore,” he said.
“I did not say that you did, though I did hear a strange sound.” She bit her lip to prevent a giggle.
“Horace,” Magnus accused and looked around for the pup. “He is never around when I need him.”
Reena could not stifle a giggle.
“You find this funny?” he asked with a smile.
“Your snoring is like a melody, I do not mind it.”
“Many women whose husbands snore would adamantly disagree.”
“I suppose many would,” she said. “But I would be grateful to hear my husband snore night after night, for that would mean we were safe beside each other.”
Magnus leaned forward and stroked her soft cheek with the back of his fingers. “You look at things differently than most women.”
His gentle touch sent gooseflesh rushing over her, and a soft sigh followed suit.
Magnus had not intended to kiss her, but he could not help himself, she looked so appealing with that smudge of charcoal on her chin.