Darcy Branwyn

…The door to her father’s chamber opened before her and then Gilburn emerged. She took a step back.

His eyes widened when he saw her. “My lady?”

“Sir Gilburn.” She ducked her head.

He bowed back to her. He smelled of sage now. Zipporah didn’t like it. It seemed so pretentious. Why not just smell as if you actually bathed when you needed to?

Peter smelled like what he was; leather and steel. She and Peter may have been bad for each other, but there had never been anything fake about him.

“Your father is resting,” he said.  

“Isn’t he always?” Zipporah glanced down the corridor. They were alone. She smiled politely to cover for her fear. “I just want to see him.”

“I’ve given it some thought, and I believe your visits with him are not beneficial.” He shifted so that he was standing between her and the door. “They only seem to distress you.”…