Tuesday Tales: Writing Candlestick

Welcome to Tuesday Tales, a weekly blog featuring diverse authors posting excerpts from their works in progress based on word and picture prompts. I’m pleased you stopped by today. This week’s picture prompt is candlestick. My snippet is from a medieval romance featuring a knight and lady caught in times of turmoil and war. I’m excited to work in my favorite reading genre. Enjoy the other authors of Tuesday Tales.

Wet and shivering in the folds of the voluminous cloak, Alis sought the safety of the darkest shadows just inside the outer walls. She abhorred the idea of having to explain her presence to another of the Brothers who might appear. If only Reese would return. Should he not by now have discovered Father Michael’s whereabouts? She was forced to trod from foot to foot to try and gain some warmth. She didn’t think she had ever been so cold in her life, not even on that long ago journey during an unexpected blizzard. It was the rain had done it, and Reese had fared even worse than she, with his insistence on her using his cloak. How did the man keep going without a second thought as to the elements or his own comfort?

She pinched her nose to fight off an urge to sneeze. A reluctant smile tugged at her lips. He had considered her comfort, though. Despite her wishes, the memory warmed her. Nay! She would not give in to sentiment. He had gained his way simply by declaring it so and, thus, here they were. She stomped a foot. She’d not forgive him so easily for the argument. Totally ignoring her opinion, her thoughts on the matter. Did he consider her a simpleminded twit of the ilk of the softheaded maids in the king’s retinue?

Her head jerked up at the sight of him moving toward her, brandishing a candlestick as if approaching a hostile situation. Her eyes widened at the lock of damp hair that fell waywardly across his forehead. What had he been like as a child, before war and responsibility took its toll?

Candleglow cast flickering shadows across the pronounced planes of his face. It was a give and take of light and dark, unrepentant male with an air of mystery. She had never seen him so. Or even thought about him other than as her father’s sword, commissioned to transport her away from the only home she’d ever known. Now she saw more than she wanted. The green flash in eyes she had thought brown. The unexpectedly endearing criss-cross lines on the curvature of his lips. Of all places to suddenly notice such details of the man. A holy place no less. She sought his expression. He had been quite exasperated with her.

He did not seem annoyed now. In fact, she swore his deep tone held a note of amusement. “If you are quite recovered from your ill humor, Lady Alis, the good Father awaits.”

I hope you enjoyed the snippet based on the picture prompt candlestick. Thanks for stopping by. Return to Tuesday Tales.

Cheers & Happy Reading!

Flossie Benton Rogers, Conjuring the Magic in Romance

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