“Yes. How did you tear your knuckles?”
He cocked his head to one side. “I, uh, banged them on the wall.”
No. She knew those kinds of bruises from when the guards practiced fist fighting. It looked as if Cerdic had been punching something—or someone. Perhaps someone in armor.
She watched him skeptically. Dornar didn’t seem like the kind of commander to allow brawling among the men, but there was no point in asking Cerdic; he would never give her a straight answer. And she would never trust anything he said ever again anyway.
She forced her shoulders back down and strode from the room. At least her annoyance at Cerdic had helped to clear her head.
She needed to see Dornar. She was going to find out what was going on, and she was going to get rid of Cerdic at the same time.
Lucilla found the Lord High Chancellor in the main dining hall of the tavern, speaking softly to a small group of meticulously dressed officers. They were all standing with their hands clasped behind their backs, hair trimmed, boots gleaming, watching him respectfully.
As soon as he saw her, he smiled and hurried to meet her. He stopped a few steps away and gave her a short bow before turning to scowl at Cerdic standing behind her. “Did you not give Her Majesty her things?”
Before Cerdic could reply, she answered for him. “He did, thank you.”
Dornar turned to look at her curiously, his gaze flitting briefly up her body. “Was none of it suitable? I assumed that you would want to freshen up.”
Lucilla looked down at herself. She was still wearing the breeches and riding jacket that she’d fled in several days before. They were creased and stained and definitely on the wrong side of well used. Embarrassment twisted in her gut. She probably should have changed before coming downstairs for dinner. Damn.
And now that it occurred to her, she wasn’t at all sure how she was going to get rid of Cerdic. It wasn’t as if she could tell Dornar why she didn’t like the bastard.
She folded her hands in front of her and composed herself, striving for the blank serenity that had always appeased Claudius.
Dornar gave her a reassuring look that somehow made her feel even more unsettled, even more unsure of herself. As if she had done something wrong, and now he was fixing it for her.
She took a breath, determined not to lose momentum. “I was hoping to talk to you about my personal guard. I would like to choose my own men.”
“Yes, of course, Your Majesty.” Dornar smiled. “That’s a very good idea. We can hold a tournament as part of your coronation celebrations.”
“I’d like to choose them now.”
Dornar frowned slightly. “In the dark?”
She felt a tendril of heat creeping up the back of her neck. “Not in the dark, obviously, but perhaps in the morning.”
“If that’s what you want, Your Majesty, we certainly can arrange a parade or something similar, but I’d understood that you wanted to get on the road as soon as possible and catch up to Mathos?”
Damn. “That’s true,” she admitted slowly.
Dornar smiled down at her, his frown gone. “Perfect; so it's agreed. We’ll ride for Kaerlud first thing in the morning and we’ll hold a tournament as soon as possible.”
Lucilla blinked. Had she agreed to that? Or had Dornar somehow manipulated her into doing exactly what he wanted while encouraging her to think it was her idea? And she hadn’t forgotten about the wine either. She’d get to that next.
She hated having Cerdic standing behind her back, a heavy presence behind her, and she stepped to the side so that she could see both men more clearly while she spoke to Dornar.
She dipped her chin, not agreeing, but not disagreeing outright either. “And then when we’re in Kaerlud, I can interview Mathos?”
“Of course, Your Majesty,” Dornar replied smoothly, his expression warm as he focused on her. “Since you were asleep when we were due to leave earlier, I’ve sent a message ahead to meet the squad guarding him on the road. I’ve confirmed that he should be kept safely in the Constable’s Tower at the palace until you wish to see him.”
His pale blue eyes watched her with perfect sincerity as he spoke. And she would have believed him—if he hadn’t been standing next to Cerdic.
The moment Dornar mentioned Mathos being ahead of her on the road, Cerdic’s head tipped, ever so slightly, to the side.
Dornar and Cerdic standing side by side, both dressed in their Blues, hands behind their backs, buttons gleaming, hit her with a sudden powerful sense of déjà vu. A memory that she had tried so hard to block permanently from her mind…. The memory of standing in the front room of the manor house. The soft light of the fire and the lamps falling on Claudius and Cerdic where they stood in front of her, immaculately dressed in their Blues, the burnished copper of their buttons glowing softly in the flickering light.
Open on the floor between them were the saddlebags she’d filled with food and spare clothes, the small cache of jewels she’d planned to surprise Cerdic with still wrapped in her rags. She could still feel the horrified shock crawling up her spine as the man she had planned to escape with, who she had thought she would marry and grow old with, told the Captain of the Guards how he had caught her trying to sneak out.
