Chapter 85

They awoke in the morning and after a hearty breakfast, in which there was no incidents, they continued in the stitching of clothes and the memorization of maps and routes.

Rose continued her work in the kitchen, her hands never idle and her feet never ceasing in their steps. Ariston sat in the same place, his black eyes occasionally glancing up at the young woman spinning round the kitchen, her nimble hands kneading dough or pastry.

Brigitte kept herself busy by helping Rose with the other chores.

She stood outside, her body bent over a washbasin, a washboard covered in suds. The water that had been heated was cooling by the minute so her hands were moving as fast as they could.

"What are you doing?" She heard a familiar voice ask and she blushed, a shy smile playing on her lips.

"I'm washing clothes." She replied simply, her back still bent over the washboard.

"Are you now?" He asked and she heard him get closer, "Not if I have anything to say about it."

She felt strong hands wrap around her waist and lift her into the air. She gasped, "Dimitri, let me down." She said, her hands grasping at his.

"Not until you promise not to work that washboard anymore." He said and she could recognize his laughing lilt.

"I will not." She replied stoutly, "Now let me down." She ordered with a smile.

"Very well." She heard him sigh but she could hear a hidden playfulness in his voice that made her untrustful.

He set her down but did not release her waist, "Dimitri?" She asked, her voice confused.

"Yes." He answered and she felt him place his stubbled chin on her shoulder. She froze from his action and her eyes widened.

"What are you doing?" She asked with a quiet voice.

"Hmm…" He hummed and she could feel it through the fabric of her dress, "I would like to kiss you." He replied, his voice gentle and simple.

She gaped, "K-kiss me?" Her whole body reacted in a strange way and she couldn't help but be curious.

He nodded and turned her in his arms so they were facing each other, "Yes, Brigitte. I would like to kiss you."

Her breath hitched when she met his black eyes. Instead of their usual humourful gaze, his black eyes looked at her with a sincerity that caused her chest to warm and her legs to melt.

Her cheeks flushed pink and she looked to the ground. Dimitri raised her chin and before she could object she found his firm lips against hers.

Immediately her eyes closed and she sighed into his mouth.

His lips left hers and she looked up, blinking at him as she did. He placed his hand on her arm lovingly and gave her a peck on her forehead, "Go. Why don't you see if Rose needs any help in the kitchen." He said gently.

Her lips parted to speak but she only nodded. As she walked up the steps she felt as though she was walking on air. Her stomach was fluttery and her cheeks were still tinged pink.

Biting her lip she opened the door and entered the kitchen.

"Brigitte?" She looked up and saw Rose watching her with a rolling pin in her hands.

Brigitte simply raised her brows in question.

Rose narrowed her eyes, a little confused, but continued with her words, "I thought you were working on the laundry."

"Mm…" Brigitte hummed, her mind going back to what had just occurred a few moments ago, "Dimitri's taking care of it."

At the mention of his brother, Ariston looked up from his book and saw the dreamy smile on Brigitte's face. He shook his head mentally at his brother's actions.

"Is that a good idea?" Rose asked regarding Brigitte carefully.

Brigitte only looked out of the kitchen window and saw Dimitri washing the clothes with rigorous strength. Her smile widened, "I'm sure he'll be fine." She looked at Rose with a serious but kind look.

"Do you need help?" She asked Rose when she saw that the counter was strewn with flour and jars of preserves.

Rose quirked a smile and glanced at Ariston for a split second, "Sure." She answered, "You can help me with these biscuits."

Brigitte nodded and walked to the counter. While Rose continued to roll out the dough Brigitte cut out rounds with an old jar.

"So… Brigitte, how old are you?" Rose asked as she tucked her hair back into her blue handkerchief.

Brigitte looked up, a little taken aback from the question. She cleared her throat softly and returned to her work as she answered, "I am in my twenty and first year."

There was a long pause and Brigitte bit her lip in agitation but she continued in her work regardless.

"Really?" Rose asked in a voice of disbelief.

Brigitte cringed softly, as she scratched her head just above her ear. She knew she did not look her age and probably looked much older.

"I thought you were Hydie's age."

Brigitte turned her head at Rose's statement, her brows drawn together in confusion and shock.

"You thought I was…?"

Rose nodded, "Yes, you look much younger."

Brigitte blushed and bowed her head as she once again began her work.

Ariston also once again lowered his eyes to a book that he'd hardly been reading. So she was only a year younger than his brother, an interesting turn of events.

His face that had been light, darkened as he read a certain passage on the leaf.

Meanwhile in the sitting area Bastian was reclining on the couch, his hands working away at a sheet that would form the canopy of a tent. His eyes again landed on the flower who was calmly teaching her youngest sister to read. The youngest boy, the blonde one, was standing at her arm, his green eyes transfixed on the book.

The flower calmly helped the young child read the pages, her smiles sweet and her words gentle.

He'd paused in his work more than once to watch how patient she was.

They were reading a common children's story, about a young boy who was given a pickaxe that could dig down into the depths of the earth, the young lad continued to delve and each time he came back with more and more treasures. But one day he reached the other side of the world and he saw his father and mother, who had both died.

Bastian watched the three siblings carefully when they came to this part. He was rather shocked when none of them mentioned their recently deceased mother.

"Your siblings don't seem too torn up about your mother's death." He stated nonchalantly as he began working on his tent sheet.

He heard the book slam shut and watched as the flower ushered her younger siblings out of the room, only to see her turn on him with a very angry expression on her face.