Page 92 of Picking Up the Gauntlet

She was a noble.

They would never be together again.

Chapter 22

Jonathon stopped by to see the castle’s healer who put his arm in a sling. Thankfully, it wasn’t broken after all, but it was severely sprained. He wouldn’t be able to swing a hammer in the smithy for at least a month. This was going to really hurt their business.

He returned Rook’s armor to the armory, and headed back to the blacksmith’s shop within the castle’s walls. It was hard to ignore the happy people who were celebrating Sir Whitehead’s win. Raven should be his wife, not another man’s. He cursed her silently and then he cursed himself. Why in the devil’s name did he have to fall in love with a woman who was off-limits to him? This was the first time he knew love—real love in his life. Sadly, now that love would die inside him, because he couldn’t let it blossom and bloom. He and Raven were two people from two different walks of life and that is all they would ever be.

“Brother, did you see what happened?” Avery ran up to him with Gerold at his side. “Lady Raven broke a knight’s arm because she decided she didn’t want him to win the tournament after all.”

“Nay, that’s not true,” said Jonathon softly, heading to the shop. “She only sprained it.”

“How do you know?” asked Avery. “Hey, what happened to your arm?”

“I sprained it.”

“Just like the knight did,” said Gerold.

“Oh, no. Please don’t tell me that was you?” Avery looked horrified at the thought.

“It was,” he admitted. “I only did it to help her, but now nothing matters.”

“You didn’t really think you had a chance with her, did you, Brother? Or for that matter, even have a chance to win a joust against a seasoned knight?”

“I suppose not.”

Gerold opened the door and entered the shop but stopped and turned around.

“There are two men here that I’ve never seen before,” said the boy.

“Well, they’ll have to go somewhere else to get their armor fixed or polished,” said Jonathon. “I can’t work until my arm heals. Plus, I am packing and leaving right away.”

“Leaving? We’re leaving already?” asked Avery, sounding like he didn’t want to go.

Jonathon stepped around the boy, but stopped in his tracks when he realized who had come to see him.

“Jonathon, there you are,” said one of the men.

“Guild Master Wilkin? Guild Master Shroud?” asked Jonathon, surprised to see the masters from the armorers’ guild in the shop. “What are you doing here? Did you come to watch the tournament?” God, he hoped not. He never wanted them to know his part in this big deception.

“Jonathon, offer them a seat.” Avery stepped forward and moved the bag with Raven’s armor in it, putting it on the floor. “Please, won’t you sit down, guild masters?” he asked.

“Hrmph,” snorted Shroud, taking a seat. Wilkin remained standing.

“We are here because that woman at your shop in town begged us to give you another chance,” said Wilkin.

“What woman?” asked Jonathon. “I don’t understand. I told you I had no piece to present and also no time to make one.”

“Gerold, get them some ale,” Avery interrupted again, working diligently to please the guild masters. “I’ll start a fire to warm the room.”

“After the last time I saw you in town, that woman dressed like a man followed me outside,” explained Wilkin. “She assured me you would have a final project to present to us that was unique and like nothing we’ve ever seen before. That is why I agreed to it.”

“Raven,” said Jonathon under his breath. He hadn’t thought the day could get any worse, but he was wrong.

“I told her we’d be here the day of the tournament. Didn’t she relay the message to you?” asked Wilkin.

“I guess it must have slipped her mind,” grumbled Jonathon, knowing now why Raven had kept trying so hard to get him to work on his masterpiece.