Tale of Obsession: Courting Daphne Ch. 09

Spent at last, he lay down on the glass, panting. His heart was beating fast, trying to calm his body after such an exertion. Above them, the sky was a clear blue, broken here and there by clouds that spoke of no coming rain.

Leander pulled Daphne so that she was lying on top of him. The lady looked totally spent. Her body was still trembling a little, as if accustoming itself to the loss of what had been buried inside. But she had a satisfied smile on her face.

"So, am I still boring?" he asked, brushing off some strands of hair away from her face.

"Uhmmm..." she made a show of being thoughtful. "Not so boring anymore, I guess."

The general chuckled, accepting the kiss that she offered. Daphne sighed and put her hand on his chest, where she could certainly feel the beats of his heart.

They spent a few more minutes in that position until their breathing returned to normal. Then, Leander suggested that they wash themselves and start heading back to the ducal palace.

Once her skin was dry and she had on her robe again, Daphne sat on the grass and watched him finish washing his body. Leander joined her several minutes later, with nothing but a fresh pair of breeches on. He sat across her, amused by the way she was studying him.

Daphne reached out and touched his chest, tracing the scar of one of the biggest wounds he got from battle. Leander could still remember the insanity in the eyes of the man who inflicted it to him, as well as the pain that came with the wound. That was about five years ago, in the Battle of the North, just before he took the oath that would bind him to service to the Duke of Wildercross.

"Gabriel said that ten days from now, you and your men are marching," Daphne said quietly, her finger still gently caressing his old wound.

Leander merely nodded. At least, he was spared the part of personally telling her the news.

She dropped her hand and looked into his eyes. "Promise me that you'll come back."

The general said nothing, studying Daphne's face. There was neither a flicker of doubt nor a trace of fear in her eyes. As if she has just given him an order to bring a message to some faraway kingdom.

At the moment, Leander knew that she was not feeling the fear that never really left his heart. He almost laughed at the irony of it all.

People say that the best warriors are those with nothing to lose, for they go to battle with only one purpose: to fight. They are the bravest ones among the ranks; they will stop at nothing, for they fear nothing.

But Leander tends to disagree. For him, the best warriors are those who have something precious to guard -- someone special to come back to. They go to battle with only one thing in mind: to win. They are the ones whose hearts are filled with fear, but who join the battle anyway to return to those they loved. They are the ones who fight the hardest, who last the longest, and who almost always win, for they understand that the price of losing was the demise of those they have sworn to protect.

And he was one of those -- those men who fought wars out of fear that if they don't, they will lose everything they hold dear. With ruthless force, he led his men without regrets, striking down their enemies with only one thing in mind: victory. So that he could come back and see Daphne again. So that he could protect her and all that she holds dear.

"Promise me," Daphne said, her voice as clear as crystal as she touched his face. "You will come back to me, General."

Leander took her hand and kissed her palm, his eyes never leaving hers. "I promise, my love."