Page 58 of Veil of Winter

“Indeed. Someone may think you are the king.”

“And someone may think you are his jester.”

“Because I am so amusing.”

“Don’t quit your knighthood.”

“Now who’s the jester?”

They blustered a bit more, then discussed the night before them and the journey on the morrow.

“You never did tell me about your stroll with the princess in the garden,” Sir Oswalt said as they walked to the door. He stopped, a crooked grin on his face. “Did you kiss her?”

“I did not. We were discussing our plans and strategies—”

“Plans and strategies?”

“I did not kiss her.”

Sir Oswalt eyed him for a moment. “But you wanted to.”

“The man who does everything he wants to do is not a worthy nor a noble man, and I am a knight—”

“Yes, yes, you are very worthy and noble. But a kiss is just a kiss. It’s not as if you are stealing her virtue. She already kissed you once.”

Gerard had a dozen thoughts racing through his mind, but he said nothing.

“You are afraid of breaking her heart, aren’t you? Well, that is probably wise.” He slapped Gerard on the shoulder.

At least he hadn’t guessed the other key reason he did not kiss her—because he didn’t want to break his own heart.

***

Elyce rode her horse beside Ysa. It had been five days since they’d left King Wenceslaus’s castle. The king had placed Sir Gerard in charge over his soldiers who were accompanying them, and she sometimes wondered if he used that fact to distance himself physically from her, for he had only spoken to her twice in five days, and then only briefly.

At King Wenceslaus’s feast, Sir Gerard had been seated across from her. It had been noisy in the Great Hall, and he had not attempted to speak to her at all, though she had caught him staring at her a few times. He conversed with the king, who was seated beside him, and with the king’s guard captain on his other side. Meanwhile, Elyce had been seated next to the queen, whom Elyce found surprisingly talkative and friendly.

Later Elyce had noticed Ysa was sitting at one of the lower tables, with Sir Oswalt across from her. Throughout the long feast, every time Elyce looked for Ysa, Sir Oswalt was talking to her, or she to him.

Never had Sir Oswalt said more than a few words in front of Elyce. And now he was talking almost without pause to Ysa? Had Ysa and Sir Oswalt been engaging in a flirtation the entire time?

The notion shouldn’t make Elyce angry. Ysa had every right to fall in love with Sir Oswalt, or anyone else she pleased. It was too ignoble, too beneath her to feel jealous because Sir Oswalt talked with Ysa all night and Sir Gerard barely spoke to her. Elyce absolutely would not allow herself to be envious.

When they were back in Elyce’s room and Ysa was helping her take off her heavy dress and free her hair from its many pins, Elyce had tried to sound very matter-of-fact. “I saw that you and Sir Oswalt were sitting together at the feast.”

“Yes.”

When it was clear Ysa was not about to offer any other information, Elyce said, “Did he talk very much? I rarely hear him say a word.”

“He talked much more than usual.”

“Oh? What kinds of things did he talk about? I’m curious.”

“He talked about the things men usually talk about—horses and fighting and traveling. He talked about England and the places where he has lived.”

“Oh.” And there was another thing that did not make sense. “Why was Sir Oswalt sitting with the servants?”

“He said he did not want me to sit alone with strangers.”