Michel blinked a few times, shaking her last statements out of his head. “I have two brothers. I am the oldest.”
“Of course you are,” she jested.
“Why do you say that?”
“You like to be in charge.”
“You are the youngest, and you like to be in charge,” he pointed out.
Eve gave him a wink as she snapped the thread.
Michel continued. “Serge is my middle brother. He captains the ship that takes me through the Mediterranean when I come East.” He shifted and stretched his legs out. “My youngest brother is Philippe. He was supposed to take this journey with me, but he was married just a few months ago.”
Eve nodded. “He did not want to leave his wife.”
“Couldn’t tear him away.” Michel grinned. “He helps maintain the region, Chevalerie, my home. His wife, Alex, is a swordfighter,” he said, looking for something to interest Eve.
She looked up, surprised. “A woman swordfighter?”
“She’s very talented,” he continued. “She trained with many of the same masters that my brothers and I did.”
Eve gave him a strange look, a smirk, then turned back to the mending.
“What’s that look?” he asked.
“You trained with that sword?” she teased. “It’s not just a toy?”
“What—” he started. “Of course—” he stuttered. Then he moved to catch her eye. “Do you think I don’t know how to use my sword?”
“I know very little about you. Though Westerners,nobles,” she said, “are known to wear weapons merely as part of the costume.” She gave him a once-over, her amusement on display.
His mouth dropped open. “I’ve been training since I was two years old,” he said, offended. “With masters from all over the continent.” He straightened his back. “I’ve won competitions…” he trailed off.
Eve just grinned at him and shrugged.
“Alright, alright,” he said. He didn’t know if she was just teasing him or truly believed he was a bumbler with his weapon, but he had to admit he enjoyed the playfulness of the conversation. He had nothing to prove, he reminded himself, and he laughed as he observed her.
Her golden hair was braided to the side. Her posture was straight and proper as always. He thought of what it would feel like to have her in Chevalerie, in his home. To introduce her to his family, to walk with her through the gardens. To let her see him spar and to stun her with his skill. He let out an amused grunt at the thought of surprising her once more.
She paused her stitching and looked over at him, her expression bright and open. He realized she was ready to share more of herself with him, that some bridge of trust had been built over the last few days. Then, before he could decide how to move forward, he heard a noise, a scuffle, behind him. The moment between him and Eve evaporated like beads of water in a hot pan, and Michel was on his feet. “Excuse me,” he said to her before darting out into the camp, his frustration forming in his chest at having to pull himself away.
Just in the center, where the men had been playing cards, a large, bearded man named Iman, whom Michel had known for many years, towered above Terence, a spindly blond-haired French boy of only fourteen or fifteen who was the translator François had recommended.
Though Michel had been reluctant to take on someone so young, he had relented, knowing he still needed help communicating in the furthest reaches east. Plus, when he saw the gangly, scruffy boy, Michel couldn’t help it. He had wanted to help the kid with a job.
And now he had to get himself between Terence and Iman before Iman beat the boy to death.
“You sneak!” Iman fumed, his hands around the boy’s neck. “You cheat!”
Michel ripped Iman off Terence and then threw the boy back. Michel faced Iman as Iman charged, blindly trying to get through Michel to Terence. Iman slammed into Michel, but Michel braced and shoulder-checked him, knocking Iman back. Iman stumbled at the impact and fell on his ass.
“That little shit cheated me!” Iman fumed.
Michel, hulking between the two, turned to Terence.
“I did not!” the youth yelled, his voice still cracking with adolescence.
“You don’t get carte blanche in piquet four times without a cheat!” Iman jumped up, his posture threatening to jump over Michel to get to Terence again.
