Page 44 of Gwen and Art Are Not in Love

‘No, it was a literal – it was a shed full of birds.’

‘Shit,’ Sidney said again. ‘Shouldn’t we be packing? Shouldn’t we be out the window and halfway across England by now?’

‘Can’t see why,’ Arthur said, leaning back in his chair and looking rather smug. ‘Because he kissed me back.’

Sidney gaped at him. ‘In thebird shed?’

‘You’re awfully fixated on the bird shed.’

‘You’re right,’ Sidney said, rubbing his eyes with both hands. ‘Let’s back up to – what happened?’

‘He was showing me his birds,’ Arthur said, feeling slightly hysterical now, ‘and he had this crow, and he – he called itsweetheart, so obviously I had to … He ran off and I thought the bill had come due, the chopping block was calling, the noose was nigh, but then instead he – he asked me if I liked women, and then he kissed me.’

Sidney put his head in his hands. ‘Is this treason?’ he said, muffled by his fingers. ‘Or is it just a regular crime?’

‘I was wondering that. Butyouhave an alibi,’ Arthur said, patting him on the arm. ‘You were lurking outside a secret underground party.’

‘Please just … This was a one-time thing, right?’ He peered through his fingers, looking very tired. ‘Tell me it was a one-time thing.’

‘Definitely,’ Arthur said. ‘Absolutely. He’s not – you know. He barely talks. Hereads books.’ It was true; Gabriel was not his usual type, and he needed to be practical. It would be one thing to risk his neck for some confident, dashing prince with muscled thighs and witty repartee to truly die for, but Gabriel was quiet, and strange, and ultimately just –notworth the hassle.

Even if he was nice to birds.

‘Ah, yes. His dusty looks and lack of personality have captivated you,’ Sidney said, sighing and getting up. ‘I’m going to bed. Suggest you do the same, instead of staring dramatically out of the window like you’re in a poem.’

‘I don’t do that,’ Arthur said crossly, and Sidney rolled his eyes as he went over to his cot and started taking his boots off.

Arthur left the window, went to bed and stared dramatically at the canopy for another hour instead. It was far less romantic, but much easier on the neck.

Gwen followed Bridget up the stairs and out into the quiet of the church in a daze. She had hoped that Bridget might forget that she was holding Gwen’s arm – that they might make it all the way out into the night air and she’d still be in Bridget’s sure, steady grip – but life had not been that kind.

‘That was … forceful,’ she said, as they walked through the rows of pews. Bridget winced.

‘Er … Yes. My apologies. It seemed urgent that we remove you from the situation, before somebody recognised you.’

‘No, no, I mean it was – brilliant,’ said Gwen, more out of breath than their walking speed could account for. ‘I wish I had that sort of … self-assurance, and strength, and … andpresencelike you do.’

‘Oh,’ said Bridget, visibly relaxing. ‘Well. I’ve been training for combat since I was very young, and I suppose it instils a certain … confidence.’

‘Confidence? You’re magnificent,’ Gwen said, too caught up in the moment to be embarrassed; Bridget’s expression twisted into something unreadable, and she cleared herthroat and looked straight ahead as she walked, clasping her hands formally behind her back.

‘My family is from the Sukhothai Kingdom – there’s a fighting style there that’s very different to what they teach in England. It’s targeted – efficient. I learned to fight with my whole body, with fists, elbows and knees, before I picked up my first weapons. My father never had a son, so he taught me instead. Learning to fight like that makes you very … aware of your body, and what it can do.’

Gwen was certainly very aware of Bridget’s body, specifically the habit she had of stretching out her shoulders to loosen the muscles there. She was doing it now, and Gwen was so distracted by the shift of her arms under her jacket that she missed what Bridget said to her next.

‘I was saying,’ she repeated, taking in Gwen’s baffled and flushed expression, ‘I could teach you the sword. If you like.’

‘Oh – no, I couldn’t,’ Gwen said automatically. Bridget nodded, and they kept walking in silence for a while, out across the courtyard where the only sounds were their footsteps and the gentle hooting of a perturbed owl. No good could come of spending more time with Bridget, no matter how much she wanted to. And learning to fight, with all the physical exertion involved, the intimacy and thesweatand seeing Bridget up close as she expertly handled her weapon …

‘Actually,’ Gwen said suddenly. ‘Maybe – yes. I’d like that.’

Bridget appraised her solemnly. ‘Well. Good. I’ll come for you in the morning.’

They parted at the keep, and Gwen walked upstairs feeling stunned. She fell asleep thinking of Bridget,standing between her and the rest of the world with her arms crossed and her eyes blazing in defiance.

Morning brought fresh clarity, and Gwen was twisting her silken belt into knots when Gabriel sat down opposite her at the breakfast table on the balcony, looking as if he hadn’t slept at all.

‘Do you know what’s happening?’ she asked, and Gabriel looked confused for a moment. ‘Mother and Father? I haven’t seen either of them for days.’