Page 18 of Gwen and Art Are Not in Love

Laughter rippled through the crowd. Bridget paused for a moment, and then reached up and took his favour. Gwen felt like she could actually hear her own blood rushing around her skull; as the knights walked away to take their positions everybody else settled easily back into their seats,but she stayed upright and rigid. Her father was frowning at her. Gabriel was frowning at Arthur.

‘What thehellwas that?’ she said through clenched teeth.

‘Audience participation,’ Arthur muttered back, his smile unwavering. Gwenso badlywanted to push him out of his seat. ‘What’s the big deal about thisKnifeman anyway?’

‘He hasn’t competed for years,’ said Gabriel, and Gwen turned to glare at him for engaging with Arthur when he had just been so terrible. ‘Because the last time he did, he killed somebody. Apparently, it wasn’t intentional – the man died of his injuries after leaving the arena.’

‘He sounds like a delight,’ said Arthur.

‘He stayed on to try to win the tournament,’ Gwen said reluctantly. ‘It was in dreadful taste. And then when he reached the melee everybody turned on him and gave him a good kicking. A feeling I’m sure you’re used to being on the receiving end of.’

‘Who does he fight for?’ Arthur asked, ignoring her. ‘Who sponsors amurdererat a stabbing contest?’

‘Our father’s second cousin,’ Gabriel said in a low voice. ‘Lord Willard.’

‘Ah. Yes. I’m told my mother hated the man. Apparently if it hadn’t been for her, my father might have sided with Willard and the other cultists instead ofyourfather when the old king died – and just think, we would never have been betrothed. I mean, you’d also never have been born, so … it’s not so much a silver lining as it is just silver all the way down.’

‘What are youdoing?’ Gwen hissed. ‘That’s treason. You’re talking directly to royalty abouttreason.’

‘Calm down. I wasn’t intending tocommitany, although you do make it ever so tempting,’ Arthur said lightly. ‘Now, if you don’t mind – my lady is about to fight.’

Gwen bristled at ‘my lady’, but she didn’t want to miss a moment of the fight either; she turned back to watch as the trumpets sounded for Lady Leclair and Sir Marlin to begin.

Last year during the third bout Gwen had watched Bridget compete against someone much taller and larger than she was; Gwen had felt sick with nerves watching them square up to each other, sure that Lady Leclair wouldn’t make it out of the arena with all of her limbs intact. Instead, she had been quick and light on her feet – had been able to use the much larger knight’s weight and lack of speed against him – and had been triumphant. They had booed her anyway, of course. Theyalwaysbooed her in single combat.

She really excelled in the lists, and for some reason the crowds didn’t seem to mind so much that she was a woman when she had a lance under her arm. Gwen wished they were watching her joust now. Instead, she had to watch as the Knife feinted to the side, then leaped forward to strike.

If the fight between the previous competitors had been undignified and fumbling, this was the exact opposite. Both Lady Leclair and Sir Marlin wore lighter, thinner armour; both favoured speed over power. Bridget didn’t just lead with her sword. She used her entire body – elbows, knees, even a well-timed kick. She got a few good blows in, but it was impossible to be truly agile while wielding a sword and shield. When she next tried to land a hit, the Knife steppedneatly to one side, hooked her leg and sent her sprawling. She struggled to get up; he let her try for a few seconds before raising his sword and bringing it down on her helm with such force that many of the people in the crowd groaned.

‘She’s already down,’ Gwen said, glancing over at her father, who was talking to the queen. ‘They should stop.’

‘They won’t while she’s still trying to get back up,’ Gabriel said, nodding over at Lady Leclair, who was indeed struggling to get to her feet. The Knife glanced over at the Grand Marshal, who didn’t react at all, and then lifted a foot almost lazily and stamped down hard on Lady Leclair’s hand as she reached for her sword.

‘Staydown,’ Gwen said, her fingers tightening against the wooden barrier in front of her. ‘Why won’t she just staydown?’

‘I suppose it’s not in her nature,’ Arthur said, with infuriating indifference. Lady Leclair managed to get up on to one knee; the Knife struck her again, and she dropped on to all fours in the dirt. Even from the stands Gwen could see that her chest was heaving under her armour. Sir Marlin considered her with acute, predatory interest, and then kicked her hard in the side.

‘She’s not even armed any more,’ said Gwen, her voice rising, her hands flying to her mouth. The Knife took a slow and deliberate step back, and then kicked her again. Gwen felt the impact of it jolt through her body as ifshewere the one on the ground. Lady Leclair’s helm had been knocked loose, obscuring her vision; she reached up with a shaking hand to remove it, and Gwen saw that blood waspouring down her face. The crowd were still baying for more. Sir Marlin reached down to grab Bridget by the hair, hauling her towards him as her feet scrabbled for purchase, his sword raised as if he intended to strike her bared neck. Gwen gasped behind her fingers – but then the Grand Marshal finally signalled for the trumpets to be blown, and the fight was over.

The ancient rules of chivalry dictated that knights would be gallant and modest in victory, but Gwen wasn’t the least bit surprised when instead of helping Lady Leclair to her feet, Sir Marlin left her where she was. He walked over to the stands to remove his helm and give a curt final bow to the king before exiting with a profoundly smug smile on his face. Bridget got up very gingerly, her squire running out to help her. As they made their way back to the competitors’ tents, moving at an agonising pace, Gwen caught a glimpse of Arthur’s yellow flower, crushed and forlorn in the dirt.

‘Pleasant sort of people, your subjects,’ Arthur said; they were all, of course, laughing.

‘Can I speak to you?’ Gwen said, her voice tight. ‘In private.’

‘Ofcourse, my love,’ Arthur said, getting to his feet and putting out an arm; Gwen had no choice but to take it, although she was loath to touch him. She watched her mother look up at them as they went to leave, but she only smiled again at the sight of them getting along; she couldn’t hear what Gwen was whispering furiously to Arthur as they exited to the back of the stands.

‘You utterbastard– you brought that flower just toirritate me and to humiliate her, as if people needed any other reason tolaughat her—’

‘Steady on,’ said Arthur, yanking his arm away at the exact same time that Gwen went to remove hers. ‘I’ll have you know that it was entirely foryourbenefit, not hers.’

‘Oh,fantastic, well as long as you were only trying to humiliateme,’ Gwen fumed. ‘What happened to our agreement? You’ve as good as told the entire city that something strange is going on, drawing all that attention to her.Haveyou told anybody?’

‘No! God, you are so delusionally paranoid, you need—’

There was a commotion over by the guards standing watch at the entrance; Gwen looked up and saw Arthur’s body-man attempting to get past them, looking over at Arthur and throwing up his hands in exasperation when they refused.

‘It’s all right,’ Arthur shouted. ‘He’s with me.’