Page 23 of Lord of Misrule

The servants next to her stood and waved their hands in the air, trying to get Tolin’s attention. Tolin rode over to collect all the support he could. He really knew how to excite a crowd.

“Take my favor,” called out one of the servant girls, ripping her sleeve from her gown and holding it out, waving it in the air. If Tolin accepted it, he would lower the tip of his lance and the girl would slip it onto the pole.

All of the women held out a sleeve or veil or some kind of personal belonging, hoping Tolin would choose theirs. Kit sat quietly watching.

“Lord Tolin! Lord Tolin, we came to see you win the joust!” Parker jumped up and down waving his arms, shouting to be heard.

“Shhhh. Sit down, Parker. That is not appropriate behavior.” Kit tried to still her son, hoping Tolin didn’t notice them.

“This is a joust and a very appropriate time to shout,” came Tolin’s voice as he rode up and stopped directly across from her. “However, to leave the kitchen when you are supposed to be preparing my meal is far from proper or tolerated.” Tolin sat atop his horse on the opposite side of the wooden fence scowling at her.

“Lord Tolin.” Kit meekly looked up. Their eyes interlocked for a mere second before she dropped her gaze. “I’m sorry for leaving the kitchen. Parker wanted to see the joust. I’ll leave at once.” She started to stand, but one of the servants next to her called out.

“He wants your favor! He chose you. You are so lucky. Give it to him, quickly.”

“What?” Kit was confused. “I don’t have a favor and neither did I offer him one.”

“Use your hair ribbon, Kit.” Brenna jumped up and untied it from Kit’s hair.

“Brenna, what are you doing?” Kit asked from the side of her mouth.

“Having fun.” Brenna giggled. “What are you doing, sister? Being too serious again? Relax, Kit. It is just a game.”

Kit swallowed hard and looked back up at Tolin, expecting to see his eyes of fire. The crowd chanted his name and called to him. It was all so overwhelming and felt like thunder pounding in her ears, making her head spin. Brenna looped the green hair ribbon and pushed it into Kit’s hand.

“I’m sorry,” Kit said once again, clutching her hair ribbon like a lifeline. Heat rose in her body making her feel as if she would faint. She didn’t like to be the center of attention. Now, everyone was staring at her.

“Put the ribbon on the end of his lance,” called out one of the servants who was crazy for Lord Tolin. “You are so lucky. He’s chosen your favor! I wish I was you right now.”

Kit looked over at the girls. “Nay, you have it wrong,” she tried to tell them, but stopped when she felt a tap on her shoulder. She looked back to see Tolin touching her with the tip of his lance.

“I don’t have all day, baker. I have a joust to win,” he told her. “Now give me your favor.”

“Oh, Kit, hurry!” Brenna took Kit’s hand and pushed it closer to the end of the lance. “Slip the loop over the end. Everyone is watching.”

Kit felt her blood coursing through her. She was sure her face had turned bright red the way it always did giving away her emotions. Everyone watched her, when all she had wanted to do was to keep hidden in the sea of onlookers. Too late now. With shaking hands she reached up and slipped her hair ribbon onto Tolin’s proffered lance. Her knees shook. In the past, whenever she was around a handsome man she couldn’t control her nerves. It was happening once again. But this time, with Tolin.

Tolin lifted his lance high in the air and the ribbon slipped down to the hilt of the pole. He held his lance high in the air and rode back to the lists. The crowd cheered wildly. The noise in the stands became unbearably loud.

“Brenna, I don’t feel well. I need to get back to the kitchen,” she told her sister. She looked down to see her hands shaking uncontrollably. Her anxiety was taking over.

“But don’t you want to stay and watch Lord Tolin joust?” asked Brenna. “He is up against Lord Rook next. And he is wearing your favor.”

“Nay, I really don’t. Come, Parker, we need to get back to the castle.” She quickly got up, and Brenna followed as they made their way through the rowdy crowd. Kit needed to get back to the safety of the kitchen where she knew what was expected of her. Where she knew she could perform well. She was out of her element here at the joust, giving hair ribbons to a nobleman. What was she thinking? Kit now realized that she never should have come at all.

Tolin couldn’t help but feel smitten as he rode back to the lists with Kit’s favor looped over his lance. So, she did like the kiss under the mistletoe after all, just like Daegel had said. If not, she wouldn’t have come to watch him joust.

“Lord Tolin, are you ready?” His squire looked up at him. “Lord Rook and you are tied. Whoever wins this round will be the champion of the joust this Christmas.”

“And that will be me,” he said, feeling more alive and powerful than ever. He wanted more than anything to look good in front of Kit. And now that he had her favor, he was sure her eyes would be fastened on him the entire time.

The joust began. Tolin didn’t bother to lower the faceplate on his helm. He wanted to have a good view of Kit watching him win the competition against his brother. He steadied his lance and kicked his heels into his horse as he bolted forward down the list. One last time his eyes sought out Kit. To his dismay he saw her leaving her seat and pushing her way through the crowd. Why was she leaving now? He wanted her to see him win again.

The crowd screamed and Tolin brought his attention back to the joust, but it was too late. His distraction had been a fatal mistake. Rook’s lance knocked into him, catching him off guard and pushing him backwards. He tried to regain his balance, but the weight of his own lance pulled at him. He dropped the pole and flipped backward over his horse, landing facedown in the mud. The crowd went wild. And then the master of ceremonies proclaimed Rook the winner of the Christmas joust.

“Damn it,” swore Tolin, pushing up from the mud. With his attention on Kit, it cost him the win.

“Brother, you made that so easy for me.” Rook rode over, looking down at him from atop his horse. “I guess your winning streak is broken now.”

“Nay, it isn’t. I was distracted, or I would have won.”

“Distracted?” Rook laughed, turning a full circle on his horse, holding his lance high in the air. “Perhaps it was that ribbon fluttering in your face? I’m sure the lady whose favor you chose won’t be so infatuated with you anymore.”

Tolin looked over to his lance covered in mud. Kit’s green hair ribbon was wrapped around it and covered with mud as well. All he’d wanted was to look good in her eyes, even if she was naught but a commoner. Any other woman would have clung to the lists and watched intently as he jousted with her favor attached to his pole. This wench got up and walked away as if she didn’t even care. He didn’t like that at all.

“My lord, are you hurt?” Jarvis ran to help him up from the mud.

“He’s not hurt,” spat Rook. “Not physically. He’s taken blows much worse than this. However, I think his pride might be bruised. Well, excuse me, Tolin, I need to take my victory lap. I’ll meet you inside where we can celebrate my win with a tankard of ale.” Rook rode away, circling the field, working the crowd into a frenzy.

“I can’t believe you lost a joust to Lord Rook,” said Jarvis, helping him up as his armor was heavy and bulky. “You’ve beaten him at the joust for years now. What happened?”

“She happened,” he spat, storming away, ready to wring the girl’s neck for ever leaving the kitchen in the first place. Tolin lost today in more ways than one. Jarvis was right. He hadn’t lost a joust to Rook in years now. Plus, he had never ever lost the attention of a woman, especially when he’d chosen her favor. No noblewoman would have walked away. Kit shouldn’t affect him this way. He shouldn’t care. But the more she ignored him, the more he wanted her. And he wouldn’t stop trying until he had her. Because Tolin Blake was not a man who would tolerate losing again.