Page 92 of Gwen and Art Are Not in Love

‘Father,’ Gwen said, standing up to try to catch his attention. ‘Father.’

‘Not now, Gwendoline,’ he said, dismissing her with a wave of his hand – but Gwen refused to be dismissed.

‘Father, please – yourcousinis here. Lord Willard is sitting right over there, look.’

The king didn’t appear the least bit surprised. ‘I know he’s there, Gwendoline. Keep your voice down. He was invited, and has decided, on this occasion, to take me up on the offer. We’re trying to keep up friendly relations, a show of unity at this difficult time, so please stoppointingandshoutingabout him and sit down.’

‘But …’ Gwen said, glancing without meaning to back at Lord Willard, and finding that he was still looking directly at her. ‘Why is he only here now, at the end of thetournament? And – he’s talking to Arthur’s father. He’s talking to Lord Delacey.’

‘And?’ the king said, sounding exasperated.

‘And – I need to tell you something,’ Gwen said, her voice reduced to a nervous sort of high-pitched trill. ‘I … I recently discovered that Lord Delacey wrote to Arthur and asked him to keep an eye on us. He wanted Arthur to ingratiate himself with us – with Gabe and me – and report back to him.’

Her father shrugged. ‘And why shouldn’t he, Gwendoline? He’s going to be your husband after all. And we all know Lord Delacey is overfond of knowing the – ah – particulars of everything that goes on at court. Now –’ he lowered his voice, sounding stern – ‘sit down.’

‘But – listen, that’s not all,’ she said, not sitting. ‘Lord Delacey was at Skipton Castle recently. Just like Lord Willard.’

‘My cousin was seennearSkipton,’ the king said. ‘NotatSkipton. And Stafford confirmed with two sources that he was visiting family. The man is so paranoid about uprisings in the north, he’d certainly have spoken up if he thought nobles were convening secret meetings. Please sit, Gwendoline. Two people may visit a place without—’

‘You don’t understand,’ Gwen said. ‘I was there, I heard him telling somebody – if you’d just heard the way he was talking, I think—’

She was cut off by the sound of trumpets, an elaborate fanfare that went on for so long that her father had asked her twice more to sit down by the time it ended. She finally complied, throwing herself back into her chair and exchanging a look of desperation with Gabriel, who just shrugged helplessly.

A steady stream of knights, their armour polished and their weapons freshly sharpened, was entering the small arena. Cheers and boos greeted each one, and they raised their swords and shook their fists in return. The crowd was ravenous, boiling; in some places it looked as if the stands might fail completely, split at their seams and send the spectators pressed up against them tumbling down into the freshly raked sand.

The noise was reaching fever pitch as the last of the competitors appeared and they started splitting into their two teams, denoted by a knotted handkerchief in either regal blue or knife-slash red about their wrists. It all seemed good-natured, if a little rabid, which didn’t account for how antsy Gwen was feeling as she shifted in her seat; the cheers and screams grated on her nerves, and her fingertips kept jumping against the guard rail. She chanced a glance over at Bridget and saw that she was looking back, frowning slightly as if she’d been watching her exchange with the king.

‘I don’tlikethis,’ she said in Gabriel’s ear. He still didn’t seem quite with her, as if sleep had given up on waiting for him and come to claim him then and there. ‘Gabe. This thing with Willard and Delacey. It feels … off.’

‘If Father isn’t worried …’ Gabriel said, trailing off. ‘You could go back to your rooms to rest. I’ll tell Father – I’ll say you were unwell.’

‘No,’ Gwen said, turning her frustration on her brother. ‘That’s not it, Gabe, it’s not just a … Wait.’ She had turned back to look at the two teams of competitors, now arranged in relatively neat rows either side of some invisible line in the sand Gwen couldn’t see. ‘Wait, is – where’s Arthur’s father gone? Gabe, payattention. Where the hell is Lord Delacey?’

‘We’ve been doing this all summer,’ Sidney said to the surly guard at the tournament grounds. Arthur had noticed that they’d been spending a lot of time bargaining with guards lately; it felt like a waste of their many talents. ‘Comeon.’

‘Can’t do that,’ said the guard. He was blocking the only entrance to the royal stands, and Arthur quite desperately needed to be on the other side of him. Sidney flexed his hands at Arthur’s side; his knuckles cracked ominously.

‘Well – whynot?’ Arthur said. ‘What on earth have I done, specifically, to incur your wrath? I want to go to the tournament. I like watching people hit each other. If you don’t let us through, I’ll gladly demonstrate, with the help of my slightly unhinged friend here.’ He knew without looking that Sidney was rolling his eyes.

‘Lot of people here today,’ said the guard, ignoring his threat. ‘Security’s tight. ’S’not personal, boy. Lord Stafford said nobody’s to come through this entrance except the royal family themselves.’

‘I’m going tobein the royal family in a matter of weeks,’ Arthur said through gritted teeth. ‘Come on. Everybodyknows who I am. Just let me through, I need to see my – mybetrothed.’

‘Sorry, pal. General stands are full too, so you won’t get in there,’ said the guard. Arthur did seriously consider doing something very stupid for a few seconds, but Sidney seemed to sense his rapidly increasing appetite for chaos, and pulled him gently away.

It was Sidney’s fault that they were here anyway. After the altercation in the library Arthur had been perfectly content to lie in his bed and stew, wondering how he could have possibly ruined everything between himself and the royal siblings without even leaving his room. Perhaps, he thought wildly, the wedding had been called off for some reason? Maybe the king had changed his mind and, now that they were free from obligation, Gwen and Gabriel had been extremely relieved to cut him off at the first opportunity?

Sidney had insisted that itwasn’tsimply that Arthur was an innately unloveable person, as he often suspected, and had finally shed his reluctance and demanded that they go in search of answers.

‘This is, quite frankly, bullshit,’ Arthur said now, noticing that he was leaning heavily on Sidney and making an effort to straighten up and bear more of his own weight.

‘Chill,’ Sidney said, steering Arthur around the perimeter of the tournament grounds. ‘Bet you a gold noble the guards care a lotless about who gets chummy with thecompetitors.’ He pointed to the entrance that led to the knights’ tents and enclosures.

‘You don’t have a noble,’ Arthur said, but he was pleased to discover that Sidney was right; there wasn’t even anybodystanding guard at the entrance, and when they got inside, it was almost deserted.

Sidney jerked his head towards the arena. ‘Hear that? Reckon they’re about to start.’

The crowd was indeed growing louder every second, and they picked up their pace as much as they could, Arthur setting his jaw against the pain.