I looked about the table. “Any other volunteers?”
Two hands immediately shot up. I knew them, of course, but one of them surprised me. I didn’t think Dame Temperance would volunteer.
“Dame Temperance? Why? I mean, it’s fine, of course. I’m just curious.”
“Oh, well…” She sighed and sank in on herself as if tired already. “My mother’s trying to introduce me to a nice boy again.”
“Ah. Got it. I’ll need to send the others up first, but you can be in the next rotation. Feel free to run away for six months. Dame Joan?”
She smiled when I called her by name. “You really must have a good memory for names and faces, Your Highness.”
“I do try.” In this case, it wasn’t hard.
“As for me, I just had a broken engagement, and I’d rather not be at home until the awkwardness of the whole situation blows over.”
“My condolences, Dame Joan. I hope your heart mends from it.”
“Thank you.” She made a face. “In truth, I caught him cheating, so I’m still too mad to be sorry about how it all ended.”
“In that case, I hope things rot on the man and fall off.”
She laughed outright and raised her glass. “I’ll drink to that.”
I clinked tankards with her and grinned. I’d always liked Dame Joan. She was a no-nonsense, refreshingly blunt person. If memory served, she did get married a few years after I came in—to Dame Sarra. It wouldn’t hurt to help their relationship along, would it?
“Dame Sarra, I understand you’re close with Dame Joan?”
“Yes, we are,” Dame Sarra answered in that throaty voice of hers. She was even now seated right next to Joan, at the very end of the table. “And I’ll be happy to station with her for a while.”
“Excellent. Then you’ve got your roster, Captain Rowan.”
“I do indeed.”
Sir Collins, who sat on the opposite side of the table and barely in my line of sight, lifted a hand to draw attention to himself. “Uh, Your Highness, there’s a rumor you’re a five-time champion of the Wilton Archery Competition?”
“I am, in fact.” When did that little tidbit get passed around?
“Would you be willing to train any of us?”
Now that was a question I’d never been asked, not by this group, which meant I’d somehow made a better first impression this time around than before. Huh. Go me?
I wouldn’t mess it up. I wanted them all stronger, more prepared, just in case a war broke out again. “I’d be happy to give you some pointers. Anyone willing to learn, I’ll teach. You eyeing the competition, Sir Collins?”
“I am,” he admitted without shame. “I’m a decent shot, but I’ll need to train hard to win it.”
“Train for consistency,” I said.
“Pardon?”
“That’s the one thing most competitors don’t seem to understand. They keep learning all these fancy tricks, trying to impress the judges, but the competition was created to encourage young soldiers and knights to have the stamina necessary to last in a battle. They want to see staying power and consistent aim before anything, so train for that.”
Sir Collins bobbed his head, grinning. “Understood, Your Highness. And thank you. That’s precisely the kind of intel I need most.”
“We’ll talk on the road tomorrow, I promise.”
This started up a whole conversation questioning whether the knights were allowed to take part in competitions. Which, of course, I encouraged. People striving to be their best at something were happier, more productive people.
We ended up lingering over dinner and pints, and I had to put a shoulder under Sir Pedan, who had definitely had one too many. I would tease him about it tomorrow.
