Of course he had not touched her in that way. They were friends, not lovers. A realisation hit her harder than any shield ever had. She was jealous. As illogical and childish as that was, she did not want him to put his hands on another woman’s leg.
‘Nice girl, and nice family,’ Tatum was saying.
Eda swallowed. ‘Is it serious between them?’
Alveye grinned. ‘Well, she doesn’t holdusthat way when we visit the tavern. I suppose that makes it serious enough.’
Roul chose that moment to look in her direction, and, as though reading her thoughts, his hand fell away from Hildred’s leg.
She looked away, her heart pounding and stomach rolling. ‘I should go.’ She rose slowly, cautiously putting weight on her bad leg.
Alveye nodded towards her nearly full cup. ‘You going to finish that?’
She slid the cup towards him. ‘All yours.’
‘Will you be there for all of training tomorrow?’ Tatum asked with a smirk. ‘Or just the first few minutes?’
Eda met his eyes as she stepped back from the table. ‘All of it.’
‘Are we supposed to stand up when she leaves?’ Tollere asked. ‘She is technically a lady.’
‘She’s wearing trousers,’ Hadewaye replied.
Eda smiled. ‘You’re free to remain in your seats regardless of what I’m wearing.’
Tatum angled his head, looking her up and down. ‘Having trouble picturing you in a dress, to be honest.’
Hadewaye shook his head.
‘I’ll see you tomorrow,’ she said before fleeing for the door.
She was relieved when she stepped down onto the filthy street, the scent of salt and fish guts oddly comforting. A welcomed relief from the smell of sour ale that stickied the floors. She pressed her palms to her eyes, trying to remove the images of Roul and Hildred burned into her eyeballs. She had absolutely no right to feel jealous. He was her friend, nothing more. And she wanted him to be happy, to not be alone every night. She just did not want to bear witness to it.
She began walking, ignoring the pain in her knee.
‘Eda!’
She stopped at the sound of her name from Roul’s lips. She drew a breath, found a smile, and turned to face him.
‘Where are you going?’ he asked, jogging up to her. ‘I told you I’d take you home.’
She looked past him instead of at him. ‘You were busy. I didn’t want to hassle you.’
‘What are you talking about?’ He began walking. ‘We’ll fetch a horse to save your knee.’
‘There’s really no need. It’s feeling better with every passing minute.’
‘If you rest it, it might actually hold you up tomorrow.’ He glanced sideways at her. ‘Or would you prefer to keep your pride intact instead?’
She watched her feet. ‘We’ll get a horse.’
He nodded.
They walked slowly to the royal gate, then made their way to the stables. Roul only asked the groom for one horse. She had ridden behind him more times than she could count, held on to him, but suddenly she caught herself needing some space.
He mounted, then reached for her.
She stepped back from his hand.
