The morning air was brisk as Amara clumsily climbed onto the horse James had chosen for her. They were going for a brief ride, west of the castle. She felt completely out of her element, but his patience—and occasional playful jabs—made the situation more tolerable. "You'll manage just fine," he said with a playful grin. "Probably." Amara felt a tingling in her stomach. James was affecting her in ways she never thought possible.
As they trotted down the west side of the castle, their journey took an unexpected twist. A band of highwaymen suddenly appeared, blocking their way. Without hesitation, James sprang into action, his sword gleaming in the sunlight. Amara felt her heart race as she observed him battling fiercely, but when one of the assailants approached her, she reacted on instinct. Seizing a sturdy branch, she swung it at the attacker, catching him by surprise. This diversion gave James the opportunity he needed to conclude the fight. Once they returned to the estate, James was determined to tend to the minor cut on her hand. His touch was tender, his attention solely on her. "You're so reckless," he murmured, his voice barely above a whisper. "You could have been injured." "I wasn't going to just stand there and do nothing," she retorted. Their gazes locked, the tension between them palpable. James leaned in closer, his breath warm against her cheek. "You drive me insane," he whispered. Just as the moment seemed to reach its peak, the sound of approaching footsteps shattered the intimacy, leaving them both yearning for what could have been.