Diara let him pull her down the ladder, down into the stables below. He had her by the waist, then by her hand, as if fearful she’d try to get away from him. He helped Dorian down the rest of the way, and his daughter latched on to Diara’s other hand, which Roi thought was rather sweet. Truth be told, he’d always felt rather distant from his daughters. He’d identified so much more with his son. But he felt rather bad that Dorian was clinging to Diara, a woman she’d just met, and not to him. That told him a lot about how he’d treated her and her sister, though he really hadn’t meant to.
A problem he would remedy after the more pressing one he was about to address.
He had some brothers and nephews to see.
*
The great hallof Lioncross Abbey Castle was full.
Clouds had moved in just after sunset and a light rain was beginning to fall. Inside the hall, the hearth was blazing and men were feasting on boiled beef and sauced mutton. The ale flowed freely, and somewhere, a soldier had a lute and strains of a song could be heard.
But Roi wasn’t paying any attention to that.
He was focused on his family.
He entered the hall with Diara and Dorian in tow, pulling them through the crowd, heading for the dais where his family was sitting. The table was crowded with them—Curtis and three of Curtis’ sons, with his mother and Adalia and Christin, and flame-haired Rebecca and her thieving boys. Further down the table sat Douglas and Westley, his de Shera nephews, and his youngest sister, Honey. His father sat right in the middle of everything, mostly listening to Curtis and his sons as they undoubtedly discussed something serious, because Christopher seemed quite intense.
But there were more people milling around the dais that he recognized.
People that had come for Beckett’s funeral, including Roi’s two knights, Kyne and Adrius, who had ridden in the escort party from Pembridge. There was also a local lord from the Welsh border, a Scotsman by the name of Jameson Munro. But mostly, he noticed that his eldest brother, Peter de Lohr, had arrived at some point during the day from his post of Ludlow Castle with his eldest son, Matthew. The only people missing from his immediate family were his middle brother, Myles, and his sister, Brielle.
He made eye contact with Peter as he approached the table. Peter hadn’t been present at the funeral, as busy as he was, but even so, his presence now was most welcome. Roi had always had a close relationship with his father’s bastard son, and he wasglad to see him. When Peter saw Roi, his face lit up and he broke away from his conversation with Munro, but Roi didn’t have time to greet him at the moment.
He was on a mission.
Without missing a step, he suddenly leapt onto the feasting table on the dais, nearly kicking his nephew, Arthur, in the head as he did so. Food scattered where Roi’s big boots came to rest. As Arthur rubbed his clipped ear, Roi boomed at the entire table.
“Silence!” he roared. “All of you—shut your lips and be silent. I have something to say to all of you, and you will listen or you’ll not like my reaction. Tiberius? Shutup!”
The table went deadly silent in an instant, including Tiberius, who had been drunkenly shouting at his cousin across the table. But he, and everyone else, looked at Roi in shock and surprise. Roi was more the silent, steady type, so this dramatic show wasn’t like him at all. Roi was seething as he looked around the table, and that was clear to everyone.
No one would escape his wrath.
“It has come to my attention that some very unsavory things have been said about my betrothed, and I am going to put an end to it here and now,” Roi barked. In particular, he focused on Westley. “West, you have been spreading gossip that you have heard from some lowly soldiers about Lady Diara, and I am here to tell you that if you ever repeat it again, I will cut your tongue out. Neither Father nor Mother can save you from my rage if you ever tell anyone again that you heard from some dimwitted soldiers that my betrothed has an unchaste reputation. Do you understand me?”
Westley’s eyes were so wide that they threatened to pop from their sockets. “Roi,” he stammered. “I… I…”
“Silence!” Roi shouted at him again. “You will not defend yourself, because you repeated the same rumor to me. Therefore, I know it to be true. You told Tiberius and Gallus andMaximus, and now Tiberius is going around telling people that I am marrying a whore.”
All eyes turned accusingly to Tiberius, who suddenly took on a look of utter and complete fear. Before he could say a word, his mother stood up from her seat across the table.
“Did you say that?” Honey demanded. A petite woman with blonde hair and an iron fist, she glared at her youngest son. “Do not lie to me, Tiberius de Shera. Did you say such things about Roi’s betrothed?”
Tiberius was in a world of trouble, and he knew it. Gallus and Maximus would give him no support in the matter because, in truth, they’d tried to be somewhat neutral about the situation. It was Tiberius who had run his mouth off.
“Uncle West said so,” Tiberius said, climbing off the bench and backing away from a group of very angry people. “He said she easily spread her legs!”
Westley was on his feet. “Ineversaid that,” he fired back. “I will admit to telling you what I’d heard, but I never said that she spread her legs. I never said she was a whore.”
Tiberius was going down, but he wasn’t going to go down alone. “You said there were rumors that she was unchaste,” he shouted. “It’s the same thing!”
“It is not,” Westley said angrily. “You’re trying to put words in my mouth, and I will not let you do it. You’re the one who is going around telling people she’s a whore—not me.”
Honey had heard enough. She flew around the table and grabbed Tiberius by the ear. Quick as a flash, she slapped him across the mouth—a fully grown knight—and yanked on his ear until he howled.
“I am ashamed of you,” she said, dragging him down the table by the ear until he was within Roi’s range. “Tell Roi that you are sorry and that you did not mean it. Tell himnow.”
Tiberius was young. Young, foolish, and defiant. With his mother yanking on his ear and his grandmother heading in his direction, he knew that he was in major trouble. More trouble than his uncle could ever give him. But he wouldn’t apologize.
