Being a knight is not easy

Chapter 169 Means
Feng Ling couldn't help but blush when she thought about every time she met Robin privately in the past few days.

When they met for the first time, Robin used the fact that they were both from the South as an excuse to bring them closer and also gave her some small gifts from the South.

Feng Ling held the Southern Territory shell pendant given by Robin. The fluorescent paint on the inside of the shell glowed lavender in the candlelight, just like the sea before a storm that she had seen at the dock when she was a child.

She still remembered the first time they met, when he washed his hands with the locust flower soap unique to the southern border. The foam slid down his wrist bone into his cuffs, revealing an old scar, the same one she had received when she was cut by a fishing net.

"Don't bring these next time." Feng Ling's ears felt hot, and she tried to hide the shell pendant in her collar with her fingertips, but Robin gently held her wrist.

His palms were calloused from years of gripping swords, but when they touched her skin, they softened suddenly, like the waves of the southern border lapping over the beach. "This shell is called 'Whisper of the Tide' in our place. It will keep secrets for those who lie."

Feng Ling looked up suddenly and saw the candlelight reflected in his eyes.

The second time they met, the scent of locust flowers on him was a little lighter, but with a hint of cinnamon that she had left in the kitchen that morning. She took a half step back, the corners of her apron wrinkling. "Isn't it the wife you like? What does it have to do with me?"

"For Madam, it's admiration." Robin bent down to adjust the knot of her pendant, pausing as his fingertips brushed her collarbone. "And for you," he suddenly raised his eyes, his eyelashes casting tiny shadows under his eyes. "It's a longing to come ashore as soon as I see the mast."

The maid's breath caught in her throat.

She smelled the scent of rosemary and sea salt in his hair, and suddenly remembered the rum she drank secretly as a child - spicy and choking, but making people want to taste it again.

The footsteps of a night watchman were heard in the distance. She pushed him away suddenly, but the shell pendant slipped out of her collar at this moment, emitting a lavender light between them.

"Tomorrow night." Robin retreated into the shadows, and the clasp of the guitar case jingled softly. "The moonlight makes you more beautiful." When he turned around, Feng Ling saw the silver hair flashing under his cloak. It was shorter than the one on the lady's wrist. It turned out that he had secretly trimmed the ends of his hair this morning.

She clenched the shell tightly, and the fluorescent sand inside the shell rubbed against her palm, like a kiss secretly dropped by someone.

The distant clock struck nine. Feng Ling suddenly remembered that her wife's soup was still simmering on the kitchen stove. When she lifted her skirt, she found a ball of paper that Robin had slipped her at some point. On it was a crooked smiley face drawn in charcoal, with the words "Your eyes are like pearl shells opening their screens."

The maid hurriedly stuffed the paper ball into her apron pocket, her fingertips burning.

She didn't know what pearl shells were, but she knew that when Robin said "yearning", her heart beat louder than the lady's silver bell hair ornaments.

Perhaps in this Duke's Mansion full of crises and conspiracies, only the shells and smiling face he handed over were as hot as the sun in the south.

Even if it was just a stolen moment of warmth, it was enough to make her eyes red in the long night.

When they met for the third time, Fengling's apron was still stained with the soup splashed on it, but when she saw Robin leaning against the grape trellis, she subconsciously smoothed the hem of her skirt with her fingertips.

The paper package he handed over no longer contained shells, but a piece of icing-coated Southern Coconut Cake. The edge of the oil paper was faintly stained with oil, just like the fish cakes fried by her mother that she had dreamed of last night.

"You'll know once you try it." Robin's fingertips brushed against her lips, and the shredded coconut stained his palm. "It's sweeter than honey."

Feng Ling didn't hide and let him put on the bracelet woven with laurel leaves for her. The serrations on the edge of the leaves scratched her skin, but it was not as itchy as when his fingertips rubbed her earlobe.

In the distance, she heard the clappers of the changing of guards. She suddenly remembered what her mistress had said this morning: "Tea must be served before ten o'clock." As Robin lowered his head, she stood on tiptoe. The moment their lips touched, the sweetness of the coconut cake mingled with the rosemary on his body, shattering into tiny particles on her tongue.

Feng Ling could hear his own heartbeat like a drum, even louder than the lady's silver bell hair ornament.

Robin's palm gently pressed on her lower back, not crossing the line at all, but it reminded her of the stray cat she had held as a child. Although it was covered with thorns, it made a purring sound when it curled up in his arms.

"Let's go to the market tomorrow night?" He took a step back, and the laurel leaves on his bracelet brushed against her chin. "They sell glowing firefly lanterns."

Feng Ling looked up and saw the moonlight reflected in his eyes, which was brighter than all the crystal chandeliers in the Duke's Mansion.

She thought back to the past three days, when he would stuff small gifts into her pockets every time they parted: shells on the first day, a note with a smiley face on it on the second day, and coconut cake today - it turned out that sincerity had weight, weighing heavily in her apron pocket, making her want to laugh even when she walked.

"Madam wants to check the accounts." She bit her lower lip, but her fingertips clenched his sleeves. "Under the third lantern in the back alley."

Robin chuckled and wiped the frosting off the corners of her mouth with his fingertips, but this time he didn't dodge her active kiss.

The grape leaves rustled in the wind, and Wind Chimes smelled the faint smell of rust under his cloak, the smell of the scabbard. But when she closed her eyes, she thought, perhaps this was the "drifting wood" her mother talked about. Even with its barbs, it was the only warmth she was willing to grasp.

When they parted, there was a copper whistle in Feng Ling's apron pocket.

Robin said that this was the whistle used by fishermen in the South to summon dolphins. If she blew it three times, someone would come to pick her up.

She touched the small fish pattern engraved on the whistle, and suddenly remembered the tone of his voice when he first called her "Ling'er" - like the waves flowing over her ankles, gentle but firm.

The sound of bluebells swaying came from afar, and she was surprised to realize that her name could be so beautiful. When it came out of his mouth, it was like a song without strings.

She walked back clutching the copper whistle, the laurel bracelet on her wrist emitting a faint fragrance.

Perhaps the lady was right, all male favorites were roses with thorns, but at this moment, the copper whistle in her palm, the coconut cake in her pocket, and the kiss marks on her lips were all telling her - some thorns are used to protect true love, just like the sword that Robin hid in the guitar case, not for harm, but for hugging.

"Wind chimes!" Lady Aisha's voice was like a peacock feather fan sweeping across the strings of a zither, startling the maid's hairpin so much that it fell to the ground with a clang.

Feng Ling hurriedly bent down to pick it up. In the reflection of the emerald hairpin, she saw the tips of her ears turning red, which looked very much like the frosted coconut cake that Robin had given her this morning.

"Madam, you called me." She stood up quickly, and the hairpin was pinned in her hair too hastily, causing a few strands of hair to fall off.

Mrs. Aisha sat in front of the dressing table, turning the jade bracelet, and her reflection in the mirror swept across the corner of oil paper sticking out from the pocket of Feng Chime's apron.

"You've been daydreaming a lot lately!" The lady suddenly chuckled, her malachite eyeshadow gleaming slyly in the candlelight. "Are you missing men?" She reached out and pinched Feng Ling's chin, forcing her to look directly at her burning cheeks in the mirror. "Look at that look, it's exactly the same as the one I gave to the butler last year."

(End of this chapter)