She stopped. It felt like a fist had wrapped itself around her stomach and begun to squeeze.
“Let’s just forget any of it ever happened,” Gwen said gently.
Isobelle wanted to reply, but she couldn’t seem to get a proper breath.
“We can get back to being partners in crime,” Gwen continued. “We have to stick together if we’re going to succeed, right?”
Isobelle said nothing. She felt as though one of the donkeys was sitting on her chest, pressing her down into the hay.
“Isobelle?”
“Yes,” she managed weakly, turning her head to see Gwen’s silhouette once more. She saw the way she shifted, saw the starlight picking out a stray lock of her hair. Saw her close her eyes.
“We are partners, aren’t we?” Gwen asked, uncharacteristically hesitant.
“Of course we are!” Isobelle rolled onto her side to face her, surprised at how normal her voice sounded. “Of course we are.” She made herself stop before she could say it a third time. Olivia alwayssaid that repeating something a third time undermined one’s credibility. “Back to normal.”
“Oh, good,” Gwen said, the words a rush of relief. “I didn’t mean to make things awkward.”
“Don’t be ridiculous,” Isobelle batted back. “I didn’t mean to cause all this drama. I’ll warn you about the tea next time.”
Gwen laughed her near-silent laugh, and Isobelle tried with all her might to make herself believe that the feeling coursing through her veins was relief. Gwen had shown her all day long what she thought of the not-quite-a-kiss. She was lucky to have found Gwen on her balcony at all—lucky she hadn’t run all the way back to the village, never to be seen again. She was lucky Gwen was still here to fight on her behalf.
Lucky, she told herself.Lucky, lucky, lucky.
But watching that encounter on the balcony slip through her fingers and allowing time to carry her away from it, she couldn’t make herself feel it was true. Gwen was only a few inches from her, every movement making her skin prickle, but Isobelle felt as though some vast and uncrossable chasm had opened up between them.
She felt as though she’d held something precious in her hand, just for a moment, and then she’d dropped it. And now she’d never have a chance to get it back.
Chapter Nineteen
A deer trying to hide in a pack of ravenous wolves
Archer provided them with Gwen’s papers at sunrise, and he gruffly waved away the purse of coins Isobelle tried to press into his hand. “El—Olivia would skin me alive if she found out I’d taken your money.”
They saddled the horses and set off as soon as it was light enough. The ride was quiet, uncomfortably so—Gwen never thought she would miss feeling the constant tingle of Isobelle’s eyes on her, but, as it turned out, she felt far worse when the other girl wouldn’t look at her at all.
As they approached the castle gates, Madame Dupont drew her gelding off the road and into a copse of trees, signaling her need for a conference before they got too near the castle.
Isobelle looked as poised and well rested as ever, only the dust dulling the vibrant purple and goldenrod of her dress to tell of their journey. They’d clothed her in a heavy cloak when they left, to make sure no one saw Isobelle sneaking away from the castle—now, reluctantly, Isobelle slung the heavy cloak back on.
“Écoutez, girls,” said Madame Dupont as merchants and townsfolk passed by on the road beyond the concealing row of trees. “We are entering a most dangerous phase of our deception.”
“But we have the proof of Sir Gawain’s nobility now,” protestedIsobelle. “We can hand it in tomorrow, before the first round of the matchups are announced—she’ll be safe.”
Madame Dupont raised an eyebrow at Isobelle. “Leaving aside that she is about to engage in a very dangerous sport indeed, that is not what I meant. Just now, no one knows who Sir Gawain is. When she wins the first round of the tournament, however, the entire county will wish to solve the mystery of this new young knight.”
“IfI win,” Gwen muttered. “We don’t even know who I’ll be fighting.”
“Hush,” retorted Isobelle, though she was looking at Madame Dupont. “None of that. She’ll be fine, right? Odds are she won’t be up against anyone really tough straight out of the gate.”
“You are getting ahead of yourselves,” replied Madame Dupont reprovingly. “Tonight is the key.”
“Tonight?” echoed Gwen, feeling her mouth go dry. “What happens tonight?”
“You must go to the dragon bonfire celebration tonight as Lady Céline,” Madame Dupont told her. “You must show yourself to many people, so they will tell their friends, who will tell their friends, about the sister of this most intriguing new competitor on the scene. There must be no doubt that Céline is a person in her own right, because this will help sell the illusion that Sir Gawain is real, too.”
Gwen stifled a groan. She’d been hoping to slip away to the village tonight to see her father and join in their own version of the yearly bonfire. It would be far less of a to-do than the one held just outside the castle gates, attended by all the nobles in the land, but it was the one she’d grown up with. Her relationship with the othervillagers might not be the easiest or most secure, but it was a far sight better than posing as nobility all night.
