Page 48 of Gwen and Art Are Not in Love

‘God,’ said Gwen. ‘Then – why did you do it?’

‘Because it was what I wanted,’ Bridget said, as if that were the simplest thing in the world. ‘I attended my first tournament when I was four, sitting on my father’s shoulders, and I knew at once it was what I wanted to do with my life. We trained together for years; I wasn’t going to back down just because somebody told meno. Hold your arm a little higher.’ Gwen did so, and Bridget paused for amoment. ‘Well, it wasn’t just somebody, it was actually quite a few somebodies – but what did they know about me, other than what they assumed just by looking at me? I knew I could do it. So I did.’

Gwen’s sword sagged. ‘You’re … incredible.’

Bridget’s expression did something strange, like she was suppressing multiple emotions at once. ‘I thought I told you to raise your arm.’

Gwen forgot about Gabriel. She forgot about the Master of Arms, watching from the other side of the courtyard. She lost herself in the satisfying ache of using muscles she had never engaged before in her life; chased the glow that burned in the pit of her stomach every time Bridget smiled, or told her she was doing well. When Bridget stepped in closer to repel Gwen’s meagre attacks, with her eyes bright with satisfaction, or stopped to press her sure, rough hands to Gwen’s and shift her grip on the pommel, it was impossible to think about anything else.

Half an hour later, when Bridget was distracted looking at Gwen’s stance rather than her sword, Gwen actually managed to get past her guard; she tapped the point of her sword lightly against Bridget’s chest and grinned, genuinely thrilled.

‘I win.’

Before she’d even finished speaking she felt something hook around her ankle, a hand supporting the small of her back to soften her fall, and then she was lying flat on the cobblestones looking up at the blunt point of Bridget’s sword.

‘Congratulations, your highness – ah-ah, wait.’ Gwen had tried to get up, but Bridget kept her pinned at swordpoint.Gwen narrowed her eyes; Bridget responded by raising her eyebrows and letting the end of the sword make gentle contact with Gwen’s chin, lifting it ever so slightly as Gwen met Bridget’s gaze and tried to hold back a smile. ‘Stay down, and I’ll show you how to get back up again.’

A short while later Gwen was breathless and laughing, pushing a sweaty strand of escaped hair away from her face as Bridget once again tried to show her how to do the ankle trick, when she heard a voice cut across the courtyard and froze immediately.

‘Sidney,’ said Arthur. ‘I seem to be having the mostvividhallucination.’

He was leaning against the archway, Sidney next to him with his arms folded.

‘Nah,’ said Sidney. ‘I see it too.’

‘Can you go and do this bit somewhere else?’ Gwen said, wiping her forehead with the back of her hand in a manner so undignified that her mother would have pitched a fit if she’d seen it.

‘She speaks,’ said Arthur. ‘Is this really the Princess of England I see before me, with a massive bloody sword?’

‘It’s not bloody yet,’ Gwen said, in what she hoped was a menacing tone.

‘I seem to have interrupted the inaugural meeting of the convention for abnormally tall women. What happened here? Who threw down the gauntlet? About money, is it? Or did one of you insult the other’s wife?’

‘Ah. Terrible when they involve the wives,’ Sidney said, shaking his head seriously. Bridget looked from Arthur to Gwen and then back again, her expression inscrutable.

‘Why don’t you come over here,’ Gwen said sweetly, ‘so I can pit you like an olive?’

Arthur straightened up.

‘Sidney,’ he said pompously. ‘Fetch my sword.’

Sidney looked unconcerned. ‘You didn’t bring a sword.’

‘Fetchasword then.’

‘Righto.’ Sidney went gamely over to Sir Dhawan; there was a quick flurry of discussion, but he eventually returned with a weapon. ‘Don’t poke your face off.’

‘I’m not going to poke my— Give it here,’ Arthur snapped, grabbing it from him.

‘You can’t fight the princess,’ Bridget said. ‘It would hardly be fair, she’s only just picked up a sword. But I’ll second for her.’ Gwen flashed her a smile – the unexpected wink she received in return turned her insides molten.

Arthur paled. ‘Er …’ he said. ‘I’m going to duel Sidney, actually.’

‘No you’re not,’ said Sidney. ‘Sidneyis going to lean against this wall here and have a nap.’

‘It’s okay to be afraid,’ Bridget said, lowering her voice as if to preserve his dignity; Gwen snorted with laughter.

‘Oh fine, fine,’ Arthur said, straightening up and pushing his long hair back over his shoulders. ‘But you’re not to cry after.’