“Just Isabella, sir. I have no title. I’m a servant at the castle here.” I began to curtsy, but he caught my hand before I could lower myself properly.
He bowed over it and pressed his lips to my fingers.
“Isabella, then,” he said, straightening. His smile widened. “It’s a pleasure to meet you. Allow me to introduce myself. I’m Leopold the Sixth, son of Leopold the Fifth, Duke of Austria.”
“I know who you are,” I said, withdrawing my hand from his so I could dip into a curtsy. “My lord.”
The blasted corset made the movement far more difficult than it should have been. Every breath still felt slightly too shallow, and every time I bent, something new was pinched.
Leopold’s eyes gleamed with approval. “You know who I am?”
“You were announced at the beginning of the tournament,” I said. “You were easy to remember.”
That seemed to please him. He shifted aside and gestured for me to stand beside him, as though he were granting me some extraordinary honor. I stepped into place near the rope barrier, leaving enough space between us that he would have to make an obvious effort if he wanted to move closer.
“What brings you so far from home, my lord?” I asked with my brightest smile.
“Oh, just business,” he said lightly. “My father has matters to attend to here. Although I must say, I am enjoying the sights immensely.”
His gaze traveled slowly over my dress.
Ugh.
I knew this type of man too well. He was the sort who knew what to say to get women to fall at his feet, and he knew it too. His self-satisfied smile told me that he was confident he would get whatever, and whomever, he wanted. He was the sortwho had been praised for every mediocre accomplishment since childhood until he began to believe that he could do no wrong.
Men like him were exhausting. But unfortunately, I also needed the information he had access to. I turned my attention back to the tournament as the next archer stepped up to the line. The bowstring creaked as he pulled it back, and the crowd hushed around us. Leopold edged closer.
“So, tell me,” he said, lowering his voice, “how do you know so much about archery?”
“Oh, I enjoy watching the men-at-arms practice sometimes,” I said innocently.
“Do you?” His eyes gleamed. “If you have the time, I would be more than happy to demonstrate my own prowess at arms.”
“My lord, you are too kind to offer and I wish I could accept,” I said, inclining my head. “But I’ve already taken up too much of your time today. A servant cannot occupy the attention of someone as important as yourself.”
Before he could answer, I turned neatly on my heel and walked away.
Always leave the audience wanting more, Dale had instructed the Merry Men over and over when he gave us lessons on acting and performance.
This was certainly a performance.
I walked back toward Aalis, carefully taking a path that kept me within Leopold’s view, but I didn’t look back at him.
Trumpets blared again. The archery portion was over, and the champion was handed a rose. He walked over to give it to a girl in the crowd, who immediately pressed both hands to her mouth and nodded.
When he presented the rose, she shyly tucked a strand of hair behind her ear and handed him a handkerchief in return while the people around her cheered.
Then came javelin throwing, wrestling, and footraces. Aalis was preoccupied with Conrad, and I tried not to impose on their time together. It was actually sweet how they fumbled for words around each other and blushed constantly. Baron and I hadn’t ever treated each other the way Aalis and Conrad did, but the girly part of me still wanted to feel Baron’s arms around me.
But no matter where I looked, it seemed that Baron wasn’t there. Maybe the rumors were wrong and Baron wasn’t supposed to be here at all. They hadn’t announced him as they had with the other important guests.
Where was he?
The sun blazed overhead, bright enough to make the colors of the tents hurt my eyes and the dust become visible in the air. My feet ached and gave occasional throbs as I tried to stay within visual range of Leopold all while looking for that familiar face and massive build.
I stopped my search for Baron when the announcer proclaimed that the next event was a melee and I curiously went back to watch.
Two teams of horsemen entered the field. Their armor was not as decorative as the jousters’ had been, but their formations were far more interesting. At the signal, the two groups crashed toward each other, not in single, one-to-one combat, but as teams. Their horses surged forward in a tight line with their shoulders nearly brushing. Men on each side shouted commands and horse hooves tore clumps of grass from the field as they bore down on the opposing side. Both teams attempted to stay in formation and force the other back, swiping and attacking while also defending at the same time.
