Wildly Yours

The morning sunlight streamed through the windows of the great hall, casting a warm glow over the assembled men as they all sat for breakfast. Sir Leofric strode in, his grim expression casting a shadow over the room. It was nothing unusual for the men who had had the chance to work with the man side by side. The only time they saw him smile was when they won a war, not just any war. His brooding nature earned him the name The Grim Knight.

The fire crackled, and the servants hurried to refill his ale mug, avoiding eye contact. His brother, Robert, watched him with a mixture of concern and wariness.

"Good morrow, Leo," Robert greeted, breaking the silence.

Leofric grunted, taking his seat at the head table. The scent of freshly baked bread and roasted meat filled the air, but just like his dark mood, his appetite was dampened.

"What ails you, Sir Grim knight?"

Leofric's dark eyes settled on Robert, causing him to wince. "I dare you to call me that one more time."

"Ah, I forgot how much you hate the nickname. Forgive me, brother." Robert smiled.

Leofric ignored his brother, his mind set on other things. His gaze swept the room, his eyes lingering on the bare walls and sparse furnishing of his manor. Nothing about the place made it homely. A pang of emptiness struck his chest, a hollow feeling that echoed through his very being.

He had conquered many battles for kings and lords and had enough money to last him a lifetime if he decided not to work again, but creating a home was a foreign concept. Growing up, he had known only the harsh realities of war, the cries of the wounded, and the fleeting comfort of willing women, but that wasn't enough. He yearned for something more. He yearned for a home. He craved warmth and stability in his life, to fill the void within.

Frustration and desperation simmered beneath his surface, threatening to boil over. He had tried to fill the emptiness with conquests, gold and glory, but the joke was on him because it left him feeling lonely and isolated.

Noticing his brother's extraordinarily sour mood, Robert couldn't help but ask again, "What is it that bothers you, Leo?"

"I need a wife, Robert." Though his voice was low, it didn't reduce its effect on the room as it became deadly silent, all eyes focused on the new Lord of the manor. The servants exchanged glances while the knights struggled to hold back their shocked expressions. Never in their lives did they think they would be alive to hear such a thing from their cold-hearted leader. They couldn't help but send a quick prayer for the woman Sir Grim Knight ever laid his eyes on.

Seeing everyone's reaction to his confession, he barked a 'What?' at them, effectively setting everyone back into motion.

Recovering from the shock of what he heard, Robert cleared his throat and said, "Ahem, I wasn't expecting that."

"I can see that." Leofric let out a heavy sigh. He didn't expect them to understand how he felt.

"Er, what about Miriam, your mistress? I thought she was good enough for the job." Sir Eric, his second-in-command, chimed in

Leofric shook his head, "No."

"Why not? You two look like a match made in heaven. It wouldn't be bad." Robert suggested.

"She already carries herself like the Lady of the manor, which I think makes sense since you two are always together," Eric added.

"We are not always together." Leofric countered,

"Do you even realize she has been with you for over a year now? Where you go, she goes." Robert chirped.

Leofric's brows drew together. "It was her choice to come along."

"You never objected." Eric threw in again.

"Why would I?" Leofric's frown deepened. Miriam was one of his mistresses. He had met her on one of his adventures. He had been paid by a lord to keep raiders away from his land, where Miriam happened to be one of the occupants. One night of intense lovemaking turned into many nights, and he had lost count.

They called her his favourite mistress because she always found a way back to his bed, but the problem was that Miriam wasn't a homekeeper. He knew she was with him for the luxury.

She wanted to milk as much money from him as she could, which for him wasn't a problem since he knew naturally women liked money and all the good stuff that came with it, so he was willing to spend. He might be known for all things but not a stingy man.

But, one evening, after their lovemaking, he had asked her what she thought about marriage, and the woman had blatantly changed the topic. After that, he didn't bother to ask her again. He told himself that the woman didn't like him as much as she led on.

"She doesn't want to be my wife." He declared, his voice sharp.

A lot of Ah's and Oh's echoed in the hall from the knights.

"Have you ever asked her?" Robert asked.

"No, but I know what I am saying," Leofric stated firmly.

Robert gently smacked his hands on the table. No matter how big and grumpy his elder brother was, he couldn't help but think of him as an innocent child sometimes.

He wanted to push further but knew that would only put him on the receiving end of Leofric's dark mood. "So, what's your plan? Do you want to go on a wife hunt?"

Leofric shook his head. "Nothing like that. One will come one day."

"Aye. Don't worry. You might get lucky this time. I heard Lord Griswold's land is blessed with beautiful women. You might see one you like there," One of the Knights, Campbell, joked, his mouth stuffed with bread.

Seeing his brother's state worried Robert for he had never seen the man like that. The only things the man ever talked about were war and money.

"Don't worry, the right woman will come and sweep you off your strong feet." Robert joked, earning a round of laughter from the men around and a hard glare from Leofric.

Leofric wasn't looking for someone to sweep him off his feet, he just wanted a home and a sense of belonging—and an heir. He was already two-and-thirty years old. He wasn't growing any younger.

Pushing the thought to the side, he turned his gaze to his brother. "Rob, did you get the money from Lord Maxwell as I ordered?"

Robert instantly looked like a trapped rabbit. The pork that once tasted nice immediately turned bland, and his appetite suddenly vanished.

How could he tell his brother he had lost the money at the gambling house without dying? He would rather face a dragon.

Leofric raised a brow. "Why do you look like you have just seen a ghost?"

Robert looked at Leofric's grim face and shuddered. It was a face he knew so well— it was calm before the storm. "Leo, I need to speak with you."

Leofric blinked once as he took in his brother's expression. One that told him the young lad was up to no good.

Oh, God, help him control his temper. "What have you done now, Rob?" He adjusted himself on his seat, looking like a lion ready to pounce on its prey.

Robert contemplated telling his brother the truth and lying. He knew he had to tell the man, but the thought of his brother's wrath made his blood run cold.

Lying wouldn't save him, either. Leofric would find out, and when he did... Robert shuddered at the thought.

He thought of blaming someone else, but Leofric would see right through him. The man knew him too well. Robert's mind raced, searching for an escape, but there was none. He was trapped and it was all thanks to the damn man, Richard. He would throttle the man the next time he saw him.

"I don't have forever to listen to you, young man. Get it over with."

"About Lord Maxwell's payment…" Robert drawled,

"You've retrieved them, I hope?" Leofric asked,

Robert's stomach twisted into knots, his words stuck in his throat. "I lost them, Leo."

There was a short pause in the room before Leofric shook his head in disbelief. "Tell me you are joking right now." He said roughly.

Robert would have loved to do that, but it was too late. He watched in horror as Leofric's face turned thunderous, his eyes blazing with fury, "You are lost it." Leofric repeated, his voice was low and menacing. "How much of it did you lose?"

Robert felt his head burning with fever as he gulped. "All...of it."

Leofric's large fist collided with the table, making Robert jump. "Where did you lose it? Were you attacked on your way back?"

Robert swallowed hard. "I lost it at the game house... I couldn't stop."

Leofric's face reddened, veins bulging at his temples. "You couldn't stop?" He roared, his voice echoing through the hall, causing people around to wince. "Is this the same game house I warned you not to go to?"

Robert shook his head frantically. "No, it's a new one." He said it like it made any difference. "It was foolish of me, brother. I will make it right, I promise."

Plates and cups rattled as Leofric's anger shook the table. Robert quickly moved away from the table, fearing his brother's wrath.

Leofrics eyes narrowed into slits, his jaw razor sharp. "Foolish?" He spat. "Foolishness is forgetting one's sword at home. Foolishness is misjudging an enemy's friend. Losing my payment from Lord Maxwell at a gambling house... That's pure stupidity. Is this how you want your life to be? You want to waste your life in a gambling house with people that don't give a flying fig about you?"

"I am sorry—" Robert began but was cut off by Leofric's glare.

"Don't you dare tell me you are sorry because I know you are not." His voice was low and biting again. He turned to Eric. "Eric, take this fool to his room. Tell Daniel to confine him until further notice."

Eric frowned as he asked, "What about the ball?"

"He won't be attending. I don't want to see his face anywhere around me. If I do, I am not sure I would be able to control myself from doing something I would regret later."

Robert wanted to beg again, but knowing that would only cause more harm, he kept the apology to himself as he obediently followed Sir Eric.

"You people should head out without me. I will join you on the road." He spoke to the group of knights still in the room before walking out of the hall, his anger simmering.