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“And?”
“She wasn’t much for writing. I’m sure she threw it away.”
“The queen spoke very highly of her.” I looked at him thoughtfully, searching for a crack in his armor. “But perhaps her opinion of Vi was a bit superficial compared to the one who knew her best.”
Beric was silent for a long moment. “What color armor would you like for your wedding? Silver? Bronze?”
I rolled my eyes. “There’s that infuriating habit of yours. Ignoring my questions.”
“Is it not enough that the queen spoke highly of her?”
I sighed in frustration. He said there’d been a journal. If there was, it would be in the adjoining room. I supposed I’d be forced to sleep there soon enough anyway. If he wasn’t willing to speak about her, I could simply read her thoughts for myself.
When I turned toward him, he was already looking at me, assessing. I wanted to be mad at him, and yet I felt myself softening beneath his gaze.
“What?” I asked.
“Gold would suit you very well.”
I don’t know why his words made me blush. Perhaps because it was the exact armor I wanted. Or perhaps it was the way he’d said it. The way he looked at me.
Still, I scoffed and looked away, as if the painting was more interesting. “I will choose my own armor, thank you.” Again, I imagined myself in the portrait. In rich green velvet and golden armor. “Yes, I think the gold will do nicely.”
Beric let out a breath of laughter, but I only caught the end of his grin before he was back to somber and stoic. “Very good, my lady.”
“Are you teasing me, my lord?”
“Beric is fine, my lady.” I had meant my tone to be teasing as well, but I couldn’t tell if the blush reddening his ears was embarrassed, playful, or flattered. “And no, forgive me. But perhaps you’ll trust me to do my job from now on.”
And just like that my stomach went sour again. “I have a squire already. And she will assist me with my armor, thank you very much.”
“This issue was settled. The king didn’t approve her. And no one touches that armor but me.”
“He said I can only have one squire. He didn’t specify which.”
“So you’d choose the incompetent one?”
One moment he was endearing, the next infuriating. And bossy, leaning more toward his title of lord than his position of squire. He would be positively aggravating to work with after Anise was settled.
But I didn’t want to stand here and argue any longer.
“I think I will rejoin my maids,” I said, turning on my heel to head toward the large entry doors once more. The nobles seemed to approve of me, their company far more pleasant than this stick in the mud. Besides, I preferred to return to my room late, when Anise was already sleeping. Or, hopefully, they had permanently relocated her. I didn’t want to see her tonight—well, ever, preferably, but I would settle for tonight. If I did, I would have to tell her that tomorrow I was to wed the most desirable man in all of England, if not the world. I wanted some peace, to sleep without the anxiety of an argument plaguing me. Besides, if she hadn’t already found out this evening, she would know tomorrow.
The bright click of my heels on the stone floor was accompanied by a duller, heavier thud. The rhythm would be pleasing, except I knew who the boots belonged to.
“Must you follow me?” I called, without turning.
“Unfortunately,” said Beric, his calm voice only projecting because of the acoustics of the room.
His emotionless response made my blood boil—as if I were the annoying one in this situation. “I have never met such a stuck-up, self-important, condescending, infuriating—”
“My lady—”
“Go away, Beric.”
“You’ve passed the doors.”
I halted abruptly, taking a deep breath. Now I would have to turn around. Walk back toward him. I could feel the embarrassment heating my chest. But what else was there to be done, stand here defiantly in this dim room, wasting the evening away just to prove a point?
