He scoffed as he reached for his goblet and motioned Wace to bring him wine. “Trust me, Ariel, smiling frightens them even more.”
“Pash.” She wrinkled her nose at him, then passed the bread over so that he could have a piece.
He shook his head at her and she knew the words in his mind as if he’d spoken them aloud. He thought her every bit as stubborn as he was. She smiled at the thought. Perhaps she was, but then he needed that for his own good.
Someone needed to stand up to him.
Once the servers had finished bringing in the meal, the friar motioned for all to bow their heads for prayer. Out of the corners of her eyes, Ariel noted Valteri kept his head up, his stare focused on the far wall.
The friar’s words rang out, faltering only when he noticed Valteri’s actions as well.
Edred finished his prayer then looked to Valteri. “Milord doesn’t join the prayer?”
Valteri’s jaw tensed. “I do not force my beliefs on you, brother. I pray you give me the same courtesy.”
Ariel kicked him beneath the table.
He gave her a hostile glare that stole her breath. She opened her mouth to speak, but before she could, the steward stepped forward.
“Milord, there are travelers at the gate who wish a night’s lodgings and food.”
“Bring them inside.”
The steward hesitated as if he wanted to say something more. Finally, he leaned and whispered in Valteri’s ear.
Ariel frowned, wishing she knew what passed between them.
“It matters not. Bring them in and seat them as noble guests.”
A surprised look crossed the steward’s face, but he said nothing more and hastened to do Valteri’s bidding.
Despite a need to ask about the matter, Ariel held her silence, knowing she’d find out soon enough what had caused the steward’s upset.
After a few minutes, the steward returned, leading three men, the oldest of which appeared no more than one and a half score of years. Their long hair and beards told her they were Saxons and their proud bearing and clothes bespoke their nobility.
Stiffly, they approached the table. Their reluctance obvious, their gazes narrowed almost in unison as they noted Valteri’s eyes.
The eldest member of their party bowed stiffly. “We thank you for your hospitality.”
Ariel held her breath at the obvious slight. ’Twas indeed rude to beg hospitality and not at least acknowledge Valteri’s lordship.
No doubt Valteri had noticed as well, but he gave no indication of the Saxon’s omission. Instead, he nodded slightly, and the steward sat them at the end of the raised table.
Belial leaned forward to rest his chin in his palm, and Ariel wondered at the mischievous look in his eyes as he scanned the newcomers.
Brother Edred engaged the men in English. Ariel returned to her food, noting Valteri’s tenseness, which set her own hands trembling.
She managed a few bites before Belial’s voice rang out. “Now that we have a friar in residence, ’twould seem fitting that we have my sister’s union blessed by him.”
Ariel choked on her food, aghast at her brother’s audacity, especially after Valteri’s earlier declaration.
“What say you, Lord Valteri? Should we not have a wedding mass?”
Why was Belial deliberately provoking him?
Valteri took a drink of wine, then turned to face both Belial and Edred, who had paused his conversation with the Saxons and now sat poised expectantly. “’Twas my understanding the church thinks marriage too sinful to bother with. I believe the official writ says it is a secular matter best left for secular courts.”
Edred nodded. “That has long been held true, but the last council held that all unions should be blessed.”
