“I know.” Rowan sighed. “Doesn't mean I have to like it.”
Charlie and Viv stepped back to give them room. Maddie was already tapping notes into her tablet, and Ben could hear her muttering about scheduling and camera angles. She sounded vaguely annoyed.
Rowan put on a gambeson—a thickly-padded shirt—as Ben lifted the mail shirt—a full hauberk that would hang to mid-thigh when worn. The steel was heavy, substantial. Real protection, not just a costume.
Bend down a little," Ben said. Rowan complied, and Ben guided the chainmail over his head. The rings whispered and clinked as they settled into place, the weight distributing across Rowan's shoulders.
“How's that feel?” Ben asked, adjusting the lay of the mail across Rowan's back.
“Heavier than I expected.” Rowan moved his arms experimentally, testing the range of motion. “But good. Substantial.”
“That's about forty pounds of steel you're wearing.” Ben grabbed a leather belt and cinched it around Rowan’s waist. Then he circled him, checking the fit. “The belt helps take someof the weight off your shoulders and redistribute it to your hips, but you're going to feel it by the end of the day.”
“Worth it.” Rowan grinned. “I look like an actual knight, don't I?”
“You do.” Ben couldn't help but smile. There was something satisfying about seeing his work worn properly.
He moved to retrieve the hardened leather arm bracers, and as he buckled them on, Rowan spoke quietly. “So. You and Sir Mariel.”
Ben's hands stilled for just a moment. “What about Charlie and me?”
“Come on, mate.” Rowan's voice was warm, amused. “I've got eyes. I’ve been watching you two dancing around each other since last Saturday.”
Ben focused on adjusting the bracers, not looking at Rowan's face. “We're... getting to know each other better.”
“That's one way to put it.” Rowan chuckled. “For what it's worth, I think it's great. She's brilliant. Terrifying, but brilliant.”
“She is.” Ben couldn't quite keep the softness out of his voice.
“Just like Viv,” Rowan said, and something in his tone made Ben look up.
The actor's expression had gone serious, almost vulnerable. “I know what people might think—divorced less than a year, jumping into something new with the director of my show. But it's not like that. I didn’t cheat.” Rowan met his eyes. “And it's not a rebound.”
Ben finished with the bracers. “You don't have to explain?—”
“I want to.” Rowan glanced over at where Viv stood with Charlie, the two women talking quietly. “My marriage was over long before the divorce. We stayed too long trying to make it work. By the time we finally called it, we were more relieved than heartbroken. Well, until the media decided to play judge, jury and executioner. It did get messy.”
Ben nodded, understanding.
“Viv is...” Rowan's whole face softened. “She's everything I didn't know I was looking for. She's brilliant and fierce and she doesn't take shit from anyone—especially not from me. When I'm with her, I'm not Rowan McCrae the actor. I'm just... me. And she likes that version better anyway.”
“Sounds like you've got it bad,” Ben said, but he was smiling.
“Completely gone,” Rowan admitted. “Head over heels. Absolutely ruined for anyone else.” He paused. “Kind of like someone else I know.”
Ben felt heat creep up his neck. “I don't know what you're talking about.”
“Right.” Rowan laughed. “Just like you don't spend half your time staring at Charlie when you think no one's watching. Just like she doesn't light up every time you walk into a room.”
“It's complicated,” Ben said quietly.
“The best things usually are.” Rowan adjusted the chainmail, letting the belt take more of the weight. “But from where I'm standing? You two make sense together. Warrior recognizes warrior, yeah?”
Ben thought about Charlie at Loveland Pass, the way she'd looked at the mountains like she understood them. The way she'd let him see her vulnerability over dinner, the way she'd fallen asleep under his hands. The way she'd saidI can't waitlike it was both a confession and a promise.
Warrior, yes. But more.
Warrior Princess.
