Jillian sat under the shade of a tree, watching Guinevere brush the mane of her horse.
"Beautiful, isn't she?" he said, his gaze lingering on her.
"The horse or the girl?" Susan, his mother, teased, stepping up beside him.
Jillian chuckled, standing. "The girl, of course! I must be the luckiest man in the world."
"Then why waste time? She's of age now, and you're eighteen," his mother said, eyes sparkling. "Ask for her hand."
Jillian glanced at the blue-eyed girl. "Not yet, Mother."
Susan was as excited as Gezelle about the courtship. Guinevere was strikingly beautiful, her son a handsome young man, they would make the most lovely grandchildren.
"You better hurry before someone else swoops her off her feet," Susan warned. "A girl like Guinevere doesn't go unnoticed."
"They'd have to knock me off my feet first," Jillian replied with a confident smile.
He picked up the saddle and walked toward Guinevere. "Let me practice my riding skills on the ol' girl."
"Which one?" Susan asked slyly.
Jillian laughed. "I'll let you take a guess."
He approached Guinevere and saddled the horse. "Ready to learn how to ride?"
"I guess," Guinevere said hesitantly.
She'd never learned to ride in any of her lifetimes. The one attempt had ended with almost being kicked, so she was cautious.
Jillian climbed onto the horse, reaching for her hand. "It's alright, I'll help you."
Guinevere took his hand and mounted the horse. He guided her, cupping her hands around the lead rope.
"Lightly grip the horse with both legs," Jillian whispered.
She obeyed, and the horse began moving forward.
"Whoa! She's moving!" Guinevere exclaimed, exhilarated.
"You're doing great," Jillian encouraged. "Now, gently pull the lead line to the right."
The horse turned. "Now, gently to the left."
"Look at you! You're riding a horse," Jillian praised.
Guinevere was over the moon. With Jillian behind her, she felt safe and confident.
"How do I make her go faster?" she asked.
"Faster? Umm… let's stick to this pace for now."
She glanced back at him. "But you're here, I know I'll be safe."
Jillian had honed his horse riding skills as a scout, patrolling the town against looters and bandits. He was practically a local hero.
Smiling at her, he said, "Alright then, add a little more pressure with your legs."
She did, gradually speeding the horse to a full gallop.
"Guine… take it easy!" Jillian shouted, but she was too caught up in the rush to hear.
"How do I get her to jump?!"
"Jump?" Jillian's eyes widened. A fence loomed ahead. "Guinevere, wait!"
The horse leapt over the fence effortlessly. Jillian grabbed the lead line, slowing it to a halt.
Guinevere laughed uncontrollably, and Jillian joined her. He had feared she'd be shaken, but clearly she wasn't ordinary.
Back in the stables, Jillian helped her down. "Did you have fun?"
"I did!" Guinevere exclaimed. "It's thrilling, Jillian! I can't wait to ride Star on my own."
"Star?"
"Yes," she said, stroking the horse's snout. "That's her name."
"Beautiful."
He removed the saddle and led Star to her stall for water and hay. Guinevere sat on the grass, watching him.
[Wait! What am I thinking?! No, no, no… do not catch feelings for this boy, Guinevere. Don't you dare!]
Her thoughts were interrupted by giggling nearby. A group of girls waved at Jillian.
"Jillian! Over here!" a tall dark-haired man girl with emerald eyes called.
Guinevere disliked her instantly.
He finished in the stables and approached them. "Good afternoon, ladies. Do you need anything?"
The girls giggled at his greeting.
[Calm down, you little tramps. He isn't that funny.]
"I just wanted to thank you for catching the looters who stole from my father's shop," the emerald beauty said. "You're a hero, Jillian."
He smiled, modest. "Just doing my job."
The girl handed him a basket. "A small token of appreciation."
Jillian accepted it, nodded, and returned to Guinevere.
"Friends of yours?" she asked, arms crossed.
"Just townsfolk daughters showing thanks," he said, opening the basket. Inside were a small cake, a jar of jam, and some fruit.
He broke a piece of cake and handed it to her. "Here, try some, is it good?"
[Eeh… it tastes so good, it's infuriating.]
"It tastes alright," she responded with a pout, watching his face light up as he ate.
Guinevere noticed a note and read aloud: "Thank you for everything, Jillian. If you need anything, and I mean ANYTHING, please don't hesitate."
[That little tramp!] She pouted, handing the note to Jillian.
"Oh, I'm sure Helen didn't mean anything by this," he said sheepishly.
Guinevere crossed her arms. "You know her name?"
"It's a small town. I know almost everyone."
He squeezed her hand. "I can toss it if you want."
[Yes! Throw it right in her perfect face!]
"No, it would be rude," Guinevere said.
"Okay. Why don't we go inside and have the cake with some lemon-ginger tea?"
[Gosh… that sounds heavenly.]
"No, you go ahead. I promised Mother I'd help with the laundry," Guinevere said, brushing off her skirt.
"Alright, let me walk you home," Jillian said.
She pulled away. "No, go put the cake away."
Watching her walk off, Jillian frowned. He'd never seen her act like this before. Angry? Annoyed? Or… jealous?
*
Back home, Guinevere rushed into the kitchen.
"Mother."
Gezelle turned, smiling. "Welcome back, honey. How was your day with Jillian?"
"I'm in need of a favor."
Gezelle studied her, concern furrowing her brow. "Did something happen with Jillian?"
Richard peeked in, curious.
"I want you to teach me how to bake," Guinevere said.
Both parents froze. Their daughter had never shown interest in kitchen work beyond the basics needed to survive.
"Why would you want to learn to bake?" Gezelle asked.
Guinevere thought of Helen's cake and Jillian's face lighting up as he ate it.
"I want to make delicious cakes for Jillian!" she declared. "That way, he won't need anyone else to make him cakes ever again!"
Richard fell off his chair.
[Oh my god… what is wrong with me?]