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Perhaps I will not tell my father or brother that I know of their design.

This may turn out to be quite fun.

14

Erik

“I’m not a goddamn maid, Erik.”

For all of Gille’s grumblings, he and Bradyn did well. When the idea of hosting Reyne for dinner occurred to me, I became grateful for Gille’s insistence on luxuries I would never have brought with me. The table and chairs offer a place for us to eat. Bradyn found and polished the forks and knives and even rolled up the bedrolls, making it a space almost fit for a king. Or queen.

Or Reyne.

“Put them there,” I say of the goblets he’s procured.

After spending the entire day in this very tent, discussing the plot that seems to be unfolding even now, at this very tournament, my friend is understandably ornery.

“Take Bradyn around camp,” I say. “Introduce him to the Highlanders. Maybe you will hear something.”

We’ve agreed this is our best course. To find out what Rawlins is planning, we must both discover the location of the secret meeting and learn who of importance will be attending. Speaking to Rawlins directly would not do. His mistrust of the crown, and therefore of us, would do our cause more harm than good.

While I am noticed here, Bradyn is completely unknown and Gille can pass mostly undetected. Their goal is to listen and learn.

“She is approaching,” Bradyn says excitedly from his position by the tent flap.

I move to leave when Gille stops me with a hand on my arm.

“You are not doing this for Moray’s support alone.”

I freeze.

“I have known you for more than seven years, Erik, and not once have I seen you this way.” His gaze holds mine. “Not even with Isolda.”

At the mention of her name, I close my eyes.

“It was not your fault, Erik.”

Aye, it was very much so, but we will not argue the point again, especially not now. Opening my eyes, I move toward the entrance.

“I didn’t bring up Isolda to upset you,” Gille says quietly, “only to prove a point. This is not the same. You are not the same.”

Of course he is right.

I turn.

“Aye, she is . . . different.”

Gille does not seem surprised by my admission.

Other than sending Bradyn over with the invitation, I avoided talk of Reyne all day long, all the while fretting that she was done with me, that she’d not speak to me again. Only after my squire returned with the news she would indeed join me this eve did I tell Gille of my admission to her. But he said little about it, until now.

“I know her from her childhood,” I say, something Gille already knows. “She has grown into a woman, more beautiful than I could have imagined. And the spark of her youth is still there at times . . .” I stop, realizing he does not fully understand.

“She lost her sister in a drowning, an incident she herself witnessed,” I say in explanation.

Bradyn pops his head back in through the flap. “She is here,” he says, his face beaming.

I move to follow him, but Gille catches me by the arm.