I’m mentally gearing up to launch into networking mode when someone catches my eye along the side wall.
Simon.
He’s dressed more informally than usual. His black britches are tucked into his plain boots and his white undershirt sleeves are visible under a velvet vest. I can see his build like I haven’t before. The expanse of his chest. The solid outline of his shoulders. A restless kind of tension ripples through me and I’m moving toward him before I realize it. His subtle smile is instantaneous when he sees me approaching. The closer we get, the more pronounced our height difference is, and I keep my tone confident when I stand before him.
“Hello, Simon.”
“Good evening, Lady Catherine.” He offers me more of a head nod than a bow, which I’m grateful for.
“I keep bumping into you.”
He looks between us with did-I-just-bump-you confusion.
“No, I don’t mean physically. I’m just surprised to see you here.”
“Are you? Because I’m not surprised to see you here at all.”
My chin tucks in a bit. “Really?”
He takes a sip from his wooden cup and laughs quietly as he drinks. “Of course not. Your being here makes no sense whatsoever.” I nod, biting back a laugh as he goes on, “So then, what brings Catherine Howard to the servants’ hall?”
I glance around the room before I return my eyes to him. “I... was in the mood for a change. What areyoudoing here?”
“One of my grooms brought me. Charlie and I grew up together on my family’s estate and he came to court with me. He’s enamored with a kitchen maid and invited me along for courage. I owe him a debt for helping me with training.”
“Training?” I ask.
Simon takes another swig of his drink. “I’ll be riding in the joust tomorrow.”
“The joust? Like on a horse and holding a...” I break off mid-sentence, instead switching to a poking gesture.
“A lance?” he asks, amusement present in his deep, gravelly voice.
“Yes, a lance. Obviously.” His gaze is skeptical as he continues to look at me, prompting me to ask, “So you enjoy jousting? It sounds exciting.”
“It’s what I’m good at,” he says.
“Sure, but do you enjoy it?”
He thinks on it, his expression touched with quiet humor. “You know, I don’t believe anyone’s ever asked me that before.”
“Oh no? It seems worth asking.”
Simon pauses. “I’m accustomed to it. The king is pleased when I win. As is my father.”
I don’t reply right away, but when I do, I say, “You still didn’t answer my question.”
He stays quiet another second before his cheeks pull back in a self-deprecating smile. The fact that I was the one who caused it sends a soft heat curling in my chest.
“I like to compete,” Simon eventually answers. “But I don’t like it when the horses get injured. I’ve always preferred the company of animals to people.”
“Do you still?” I ask him.
His eyes catch mine, unflinching and bold despite his uncertainty. “My opinion might be changing.”
Just then, a pair of partiers push past us, stumbling along the way. Simon puts his hand on my waist and urges me closer to the wall, facing his back to the crowd so that if anyone gets pushed again, it will be him. I look up at his tall frame as I adjust to our now very close proximity.
“I’m an animal person, too,” I tell him, with an involuntary uptick to my breathing. “When I was young, we had three dogs, seven fish, and a rabbit named Bea who didn’t like me at first, but then I grew on her after I brought her chopped-up apple pieces every day at four in the afternoon. Little-known fact: rabbits thrive on routine, and if you integrate yourself into their daily schedules, they’ll start to look for you.” I stop for air, and Simon seems oddly pleased. “Is that too much information?”
