Christopher eyed his eager son. “You will be able to compete in the next round, so I wouldn’t feel so.”
Curtis wasn’t eased. He looked at Essien and the bloody scratch on his face. “At least you were able to humiliate de Norville,” he said. “I was not even afforded that opportunity.”
Essien shook his head. “De Norville is easier to humiliate than Hage,” he said. “It is possible that Kieran could have bested you, but only by the remotest chance.”
He was trying to be kind in saying that Kieran was a beast of a man who would not go down easily. There was always the chance of failure. Curtis was young and skilled and as strong as a bull, but Kieran was more than a match. Too bad, too.
It would have made for great competition.
As Essien mulled over the fact that Hage was out of the competition now, he turned away from Christopher and Alexander, heading back to his brother and their section of the staging area. They had a big tent set up and a small area beneath a tree where the horses were tethered. He could see Addax back by the tent now, preparing to inspect his reserve lance that the squires were polishing, when he heard someone calling his name. Curious, he looked over his right shoulder to see a woman with flaming hair waving at him.
Rebecca de Lohr had made an appearance.
Essien forced a smile, taking a deep breath and hoping her father would see her before she reached him. Essien had known Rebecca since she was born, but for some reason, she had decided over the past month or so that she was madly in love with him. He’d never seen her so attentive. In fact, she’d mostly ignored him for her entire life, so the latest surge of attention was both odd and unwelcome.
Here she came, waving her hand at him.
“Essien!” she called, smiling. “I had to come and see for myself if you were injured. Your bout was most exciting!”
Essien came to a halt, sighing with resignation. Given the fact that she was his liege’s daughter, he couldn’t very well be rude toher. Rebecca was a beautiful woman with extraordinary coloring—hair like molten metal and eyes the color of storm clouds. She had a pert little nose and a dusting of freckles across her cheeks, and her beauty was beyond compare. Even Essien was not hard pressed to admit that. But she was a child, and he saw her as a child, and he wanted nothing to do with her.
At least, not inthatway.
“Thank you, my lady,” he said. “Did you see the entire event or did you cover your eyes up like you did the last time?”
Rebecca laughed. “Did you see that?”
“I did.”
She continued to laugh, and Essien had to admit that it was a charming gesture. Her two older sisters, Christin and Brielle, were rather serious, accomplished, and skilled women, more mature than most, so Rebecca’s charismatic manner did not follow in line with her mother or her elder sisters. Not that Lady Hereford or Lady de Sherrington or Lady de Velt were any less charming, but Rebecca had a free manner about her, as if she didn’t have a care in the world. She was sweet and captivating and a bit of a flirt, and she latched on to Essien’s arm before he managed to move out of her range.
“Well, I did not do it the second time,” she assured him. “Es, take me into the vendors’ stalls, will you? I want to buy some sweets.”
He shook his head, resisting the urge to pull his arm away from her warm fingers. “I cannot,” he said. “The next round will probably be starting within the hour and I cannot be off gobbling puddings or pies. Go find someone else to buy you sweets.”
Rebecca was undeterred. “Come with me or I will tell my father.”
“Tell him. I do not care. He will tell you the same thing I just did.”
Her eyes were twinkling mischievously. “Papa?” she called, knowing Christopher was within earshot. “Papa, come immediately. I have been insulted!”
Christopher did indeed hear her. She was hard to miss because of her high-pitched voice. He had been in conversation with Alexander, ignoring Rebecca’s summons, until she turned to him and shouted.
“Do you not care that Essien has horribly offended me?” she demanded. “Come at once. I demand you punish him.”
Christopher sighed heavily before turning to her. “I am glad he offended you,” he said. “You probably deserved it. Now, leave the man alone and go back to the lists. This is no place for you.”
“How cruel you are!”
“Do as I say. Go back to the lists.”
“But I want sweets and Essien will not take me!”
Christopher cocked an eyebrow. “If I come over there, I will throw you over my shoulder and carry you back to your mother,” he said. “If that is something you are unconcerned with, then by all means, continue to disobey me.”
“I would be honored to escort your daughter to the sweets vendors, my lord.”
An unexpected offer entered the mix and Christopher turned to see a knight he only vaguely knew. Lance le Kerque, blond and brawny and handsome, was standing a few feet away. A former bachelor knight who had spent a good deal of time on the tournament circuit as a competitor known as the King of Pain, Lance had only recently sworn an oath to one of Christopher’s neighbors, an older lord by the name of Harald de Efford, Lord Eckington. De Efford was in bad health, however, so Christopher was surprised to see the man’s new knight at the tournament and presumably away from his liege.
