Page 53 of Fortress of Snow

“I am tired and shall return to my room. But I hope I shall see you again soon.” She stood and walked across the Great Hall in a swaying, fluid motion as her silk scarf and veil billowed out behind her.

“Sir Berenger.”

He turned to see who was calling him. It was the king, who motioned with his hand for him to sit at the place his wife, the queen, had just vacated.

Sir Berenger obeyed. “Your Majesty.”

The king, though not yet nineteen years old, already had an air of one who was used to being obeyed. He was no longer the boy who was afraid of his advisers. And yet, he was still probably more influenced by others than by his own experiences.

“Sir Berenger,” the king said, leaning close, “how did you find Lady Bristow? Beautiful, yes? And an ease of manner that makes the conversation flow?”

“Yes, my king. She is both beautiful and easy to converse with.”

“Forgive me for speaking so plainly, but she is as wealthy as she is beautiful. Her husband was the Earl of Bristow, and he left no heirs. I would like to marry her off to someone who will protect the castle in her possession, someone loyal to me. And since I desire to reward you for your service to me in Prussia, for your bravery and loyalty... I happen to know that the lady is most agreeable to the idea of marrying you.”

“Sire, forgive me, but... the lady hardly knows me. We’ve never spoken before tonight.”

“Marriages are often made between men and women who have never spoken, never even seen one another. My wife and I, for instance.”

“Of course. Yes, of course.” Berenger could feel the blood drain from his face. He could not insult his king. This marriage was King Richard’s desire, and apparently the desire of Lady Bristow, though he could not think why. After having a husband who was cruel to her, why would she want to marry a man she hardly knew?

But if she had a castle and lands... was that not what he wanted?

Mazy.

He never should have let himself think of marrying her. He knew better than to let himself hope for something he had no control over. But he would have to forget he ever thought about her that way. Forget that she ever may have been a possibility for him. Because he could hardly refuse the king’s gift.

Besides, how could he marry Mazy when he had nothing to offer her?

“I can see you are surprised. Think about it, and you can give me your answer when you are ready. And you can even ride out to Bristow and look around. See the castle. See the land. If you approve, and I am sure you will, then it is yours. I shall even confer the title on you. Berenger, Earl of Bristow. How does that sound to you?”

“It sounds very well.” Berenger could feel his face burning, his emotions warring inside him.

“I must warn you, an offer like this may not come again.”

He swallowed hard before answering. “I understand, my liege. And I am grateful to you. It is a very great reward for a humble knight.”

“You may take your time to give me your answer, but the lady may prove to be more impatient than I am.” He smiled. “You may go.”

Berenger stood and bowed to the king. He left the Great Hall to go back to the knights’ barracks, his stomach churning.

If he were to marry Lady Bristow, then she was the woman he would love and be true to. He would not be faithless, no matter whom he married.

But who would take care of Mazy? He could never hold her in his arms again, never be her rescuer, ever again.

Sixteen

Mazy and Ro went back to the market day after day, and everything went back to normal. Ro’s father had repaired the booth, and he had even expressed his gratitude to God for keeping the two of them safe, choking on the words and making Ro and Mazy tear up at the gruff man’s obvious emotion. And though all was well, Mazy was haunted by the face of the man who had threatened her, leaning in so close he was almost touching her with his lips.

But she would overcome this fear. She would stop dreaming about it at night, and she would stop trembling inside whenever she saw someone coming toward her stall who reminded her of him.

Why was she so haunted by what had happened? He had not managed to harm her in any way. And she had been through other attacks when she’d had to use her knives to defend herself.

Perhaps this time was different because he’d gotten so closeto her and she’d felt so helpless to defend herself, with her hands held behind her back. Also, the other times she’d acted, the men had left her alone. This time she had thrown her knife, injuring the man, and yet he still kept coming at her. And then he’d puckered his foul lips so close to hers, she was sure at any moment he would press them against hers.

“Mazy? Are you all right?” Ro looked closer at her. She leaned toward her and Mazy jerked back.

Ro’s eyes went wide.