Page 1 of A Heart Disguised 1
1
Robin
In the dappled light of the Aldercrest woods, where whispers of ancient secrets rustled through the leaves, I knelt with a creature’s fragile life cradled in my hands. The rabbit, its snow-white fur matted with crimson, trembled within my grasp. Its leg bent at an unnatural angle, and a jagged gash along its flank spoke of a savage attack, likely from a fox or hawk that had been prowling these parts.
Russet, my ever-vigilant hound, stood guard nearby, his amber eyes reflecting a solemnity reserved for such tender moments. His coat, a rich reddish-brown that had earned him his name, gleamed in the dappled sunlight filtering through the leaves. It was his whine that had drawn me away from the placid stream where Rosalind and Lily, with their laughter light as air, had been practicing their casts and hoping for a catch to boast about. He had bounded into the clearing, worry etched in his expressive eyes as he nudged me toward this fragile life teetering on the brink.
Now, my sisters sat in a ring around me on the lush grass of Aldercrest Estate, their faces etched with concern. Lily, her eyes wide and brimming with worry, asked in a voice that trembled like autumn leaves, “Will it be okay?”
Rosalind, ever the confident one, offered a reassuring smile. “Of course it will. Robin’s the best healer in all of Aethoria.”
A chuckle escaped me before I could stop it, tinged with both amusement and irony. Best healer? Hardly. My sisters wielded their magic with the finesse of true nobility; Rosalind danced with flames at her fingertips while Lily commanded water with a grace that belied her years. They attended magic school, honing skills that already surpassed mine by leagues.
As for me? The illegitimate son of Lord Aldercrest barely registered in his father’s world, my healing touch more accident than inheritance. I was a half-note in a symphony of full-blooded nobles—a reminder of a liaison better left forgotten. Most days, I wondered if Father even remembered my existence beyond the gardens and remedies I tended to.
But here in the quiet woods, none of that mattered. Only the life slipping away between my fingers held any significance.
Concentrating fiercely, I felt the familiar warmth spread from my core to my palms. Particles of light flickered like fireflies at dusk, weaving through the air and settling upon the rabbit’s wounds. My energy waned with each passing second; sweat beaded on my brow as I fought to mend flesh and bone.
The magic required was immense, far more than my usual trickle of power. I poured every ounce of will into my hands, feeling hollowed out as my essence ebbed away like sand through an hourglass. The luminescent particles swirled around us as if caught in Lily’s breezes, wrapping the rabbit in their healing glow.
At last, the ragged gashes closed, leaving behind unmarred white fur. The rabbit’s breathing steadied, and life returned to its eyes—a tribute not to my skill but to sheer determination. Its leg, once bent at that sickening angle, now appeared sturdy and whole.
Rosalind and Lily erupted into squeals of delight as they witnessed the transformation, while Russet wagged his tail vigorously in approval.
I stroked the rabbit’s head gently, my voice tinged with exhaustion. “There you go, little one. Next time, steer clear of trouble, won’t you? Those woods can be unforgiving.”
The rabbit’s nose twitched, and it wriggled gently in my grasp. With a final glance filled with what I fancied to be gratitude, it hopped away toward the underbrush, leaving behind three siblings united by a moment of quiet triumph amid nature’s unforgiving cycle.
As the rabbit vanished into the embrace of the forest, a sense of accomplishment buoyed my spirits despite my fatigue. The world seemed to hum with harmony, a melody only nature could compose. For once, my meager magic had proven to be exactly what was needed—no more, no less. This comforting thought warmed me more than any noble’s approval ever could, and I couldn’t help but smile. My hands, still tingling with the remnants of magic, bore the satisfying ache of a task well done. It was a small victory, perhaps, but in that moment, it felt like I’d won a battle against fate itself.
“And they say magic is the stuff of grandeur,” I mused. “Yet here I am, saving bunnies and feeling like a hero.”
Rosalind chuckled, her eyes glinting with mischief. “A very damp hero,” she teased, gesturing at my sodden clothes.
Lily giggled, her gaze following the rabbit’s path. “Well, our hero could help us catch dinner now. I bet those fish are getting cocky.”
With my sleeves already rolled up, I waded back into the cool embrace of the stream. The sensation of mud squishing between my toes was oddly satisfying—a simple pleasure for a simple task. Freshwater snails, a delicacy that would have any noblesalivating at the mere mention, awaited their unceremonious capture.
Lily coaxed a fish toward Rosalind, who perched on the bank like a regal falcon ready to swoop down on unsuspecting prey.
“There!” Lily shouted with a triumphant grin as a silver flash darted toward Rosalind.
Rosalind lunged with the precision of an experienced hunter but missed by a hair’s breadth. The fish, now wise to our game, made a swift escape—but not swift enough to evade me.
“Robin! Quick!” Rosalind called out as the fish darted away from her grasp.
I dashed through the water, laughter bubbling up from within as I gave chase. My heart pounded with the thrill of it all—wet and wild and utterly alive. Springing into action, I splashed through the stream with an agility born from years of chasing after Russet’s misadventures. The fish was slick and quick, but desperation lent me speed. Just as it leaped toward freedom, my hand closed around it.
“Ha! Got you,” I crowed triumphantly, water dripping from my face as I held it aloft.
But victory was a slippery thing—literally. Meredith’s voice boomed across the estate like a thunderclap, shattering our moment of jubilation.
“Master Robin! Master Robin!”
Startled by the sudden intrusion, my grip faltered and the fish wriggled free, splashing back into its watery haven with what I imagined was a smug flick of its tail.
Rosalind groaned while Lily let out an exasperated sigh. Even Russet let out a soft whine of sympathy. I turned to Meredith as she approached us at a pace that didn’t quite match her usual measured gait. Her cheeks were flushed with exertion—or perhaps concern.