Page 24 of Gwen and Art Are Not in Love

‘Gwendoline, please don’t talk with your mouth full,’ her mother said from down the table. ‘And I’d like to speak to you when you’re finished eating.’ Gwen sat up a little straighter. She’d been expecting a conversation like this, but perhaps not so soon.

Ten minutes later her father got up from the table to leave with Stafford, kissing the queen as he went and passing a quick hand over Gwen’s head in both greeting and farewell. Gabriel only noticed that he was supposed to be leaving too when their mother cleared her throat loudly. He snapped his book shut and slipped from the room with a curious glance back at Gwen, who rolled her eyes in response.

‘I’ve just heard something troubling about a visitor to your rooms last night,’ her mother said, steepling her fingers and considering Gwen evenly.

‘I don’t … Who told you that? Was it Agnes?’ Gwen said, going red.

‘No, it wasn’tAgnes. Stafford was informed—’

‘LordStafford? Did he have his ear pressed against the door to my chambers?’ Gwen said hotly. It didn’t matter thatsheknew she’d done nothing wrong, or that this had been the plan all along; she still felt horribly uncomfortable knowing what everybodyelsemust be thinking. While she supposed this sort of thing did fall within Stafford’s remit, he rarely paid this much attention to her – usually, she didn’t need much managing.

‘He had it from Sir Hurst, who was told in confidence.Gwendoline. Did Arthur visit you last night? In yourrooms? Unaccompanied?’

‘Um,’ said Gwen, clenching both hands under the table. ‘Yes, he visited me. But wewereaccompanied, Mother. His servant was there, and Agnes was – around. We just sat by the fire and … talked.’

Her mother sighed and sat back in her seat, her eyes roaming Gwen’s face. She looked more thoughtful than angry, which was something.

‘Gwendoline, I’m – I’m pleasantly surprised that you’re getting along so well, but I must say I’m astonished at your behaviour.Betrothedis notmarried, and you must take every precaution—’

‘Mother,’ Gwen squeaked before this hideous sentence could continue. ‘I assure you, there’s no need – we really were justtalking. I want to know the man who’s going to be my husband. I thought you’d be pleased.’

‘Well … I am pleased,’ said her mother. ‘But if I might recommend a modicum of propriety, Gwendoline? We don’t need the entire castle talking about it.’

‘Message received,’ said Gwen, still bright red.

The queen sighed in a long-suffering way, and then put her hand to Gwen’s cheek. ‘Just think, all those years you spent resisting everything a future bride ought to be, hiding yourself away like a recluse – and it was all for nothing! I hope you see now how silly you’ve been.’

Gwen felt something in her chest harden as she pulled away. ‘Right. Can I … I’m supposed to meet Arthur for the joust.’

‘Yes. Your father and I won’t be there, I’m joining him for an audience with the northern guard after his morning briefing – so pleasebehave.’

‘I always do,’ Gwen said truthfully.

Arthur wasn’t in the entrance hall when he was supposed to be. Gwen waited for what felt like an age, getting more and more frustrated, before stalking out of the door with guards scrambling to keep up with her.

Today the arena’s tilting rails had been raised for the joust. The air was already pungent with the smells of horse shit, trampled straw and spilt ale warming in the sun. Without the king present, the atmosphere had shifted slightly. It was wilder – more celebratory, far less formal.

It felt strange to enter the royal stands alone. Even without her parents there, Gwen didn’t feel comfortable taking one of their thrones, and she took her usual seat awkwardly, her gaze on her lap as she felt many eyes on her. She’d never adjusted to this, despite the fact that it had been happening her entire life; she still distinctly remembered when, aged seven, she’d asked Gabriel what everybody was staring at as they’d entered a feast in some viscount’s great hall. He had shushed her with a wry smile, and later had gently explained that they were considered the most important people in any room; nay, in the whole ofEngland. It was just as disquieting now as it had been then.

She was looking so determinedly at her hands that it took a while to notice a guard standing at the entrance to the stands trying to catch her attention; when she finally looked up, he seemed extremely relieved.

‘Your highness, forgive me. There’s a – a lady here,’ he said, apparently struggling with some aspect of this sentence, ‘who says she was sent a royal invitation to join you.’

Baffled, Gwen glanced behind him, and then froze; LadyBridget Leclair was standing there, flanked by guards, looking straight at Gwen. She was wearing men’s clothes again, a dark tunic with a simple belt, a shortsword at her hip. The cut on her lip was beginning to heal, and one side of her face was covered in blotchy purple and yellow bruising. The guards were all staring at her as if she were a lost dragon.

Gwen realised she was also agape, and quickly closed her mouth. She certainly hadn’t sent any ‘royal invitation’, but she could hardly turn her away now.

‘Oh. Well – thank you.’

‘Should I ask her to disarm, your highness?’

‘No, no, it’s fine. Let her through.’ Gwen settled back into her seat and tried to look as if she were utterlyfascinatedby the knights currently being announced to raucous cheering as Lady Leclair made her way along the row.

‘Your highness,’ she said stiffly, with a tiny bow. Gwen just stared at her for a moment before realising that she was waiting for permission to sit down, and nodded awkwardly at the seat to her left. Arthur had lounged in it, as if born to sit there; Bridget settled in with perfect posture and quiet confidence. Gwen sat bolt upright in her own chair as if strapped into some kind of torture device.

Arthur.Of course. The only person who’d dare send an invitation on her behalf. She was going tokillhim. It was incredible, really, that he hadn’t managed to make it out of bed to join her, buthadfound the time to engineer another plan designed to humiliate her.

‘You’re not – you aren’t entering the lists today?’ Gwen asked eventually to break the silence, watching as one of theknights tried to calm his horse, which was currently walking jerkily backwards and rolling its eyes agitatedly.