Page 48 of Chivalry in the Meadow
She should leave. She knew she should. And yet, she stayed rooted, torn between the golden knight’s reckless laughter, and the dark knight’s grim warning, feeling as though whichever path she chose, it would change everything.
A squire passed by with a bucket of water, and she darted farther into the darkness between the stalls, her skirts brushing against rough timber.
Sir Cedric’s voice came again, lower now, almost conspiratorial. “You take the world too seriously, Sir Alaric. Not every fight ends in blood. Sometimes it ends in a kiss.”
Sir Alaric’s reply was little more than a growl. “Spare me your pretty words. They’re worth less than the hay at your feet.”
Mia’s pulse thrummed in her ears. The air between the two knights felt like a drawn bowstring, stretched to breaking. If they discovered her there, eavesdropping, she wasn’t sure which would be worse, their anger, or the weight of their questions.
One of the horses tossed its head, snorting. She bit her lip, waiting for one of the knights to turn and see her. But neither knight moved toward her hiding place.
Slowly, carefully, she stepped back, her slippers barely whispering against the trampled straw. Another step. Then another. She edged toward the far end of the stables, heart racing.
Sir Cedric’s laugh rang out again, though harsher this time. “One day, old friend, you’ll learn that your brooding darkness doesn’t win hearts. It only drives them away. Everyone is drawn toward the light of a white knight. No man can best me. I will always be victorious.”
Mia slipped beyond the last stall, and into the cooler shade of the trees before she could hear Sir Alaric’s answer to Sir Cedric’s taunting and bragging. The shadows of the trees welcomed her as she hurried back toward the tents, her breath coming fast.
They hadn’t seen her. She was certain of it.
And yet, even as she tried to shake off the tension of what she’d overheard, she couldn’t silence the echo of their words. Sir Cedric’s charm, Sir Alaric’s warning. Both had been speaking ofknights and honor. But in her bones, Mia felt the truth: they were also speaking of her.
Chapter Seven
Mia hurried back to Finn’s tent, once she was sure the knights wouldn’t see her.
Sir Alaric might have stayed in the barn to help care for his horse, but she was certain Sir Cedric wouldn’t have as he would soon leave that to his squire.
She suspected he would have dumped all the work onto his squire already and left, before she arrived, if he hadn’t been having words with Sir Alaric. He seemed to take the squire for granted. Much like a real prince might have the concept of different levels of classes and other people being beneath him.
I’m pretty sure European princes aren’t out in the barns mucking out stalls. That’s what their employees are hired to do
Though she admired the way Sir Alaric took care of his horse first and the way he treated his squire, she wouldn’t fault Sir Cedric for behaving like a prince. She could see him in a movie role as prince charming. It was a role he would excel at. And he was so very handsome.
The horses were cooling down in the barn now and drinking water, and that was what Mia needed to do. Hot, and stickier than she’d been while watching the lists, she couldn’t wait to reach the tent and cool down.
She and Lilly reached the tent at the same time.
“Well, hello,” Lilly said. “Great minds work alike.” She laughed. “Did you come back for water and to get out of this heat?”
“I did,” Mia said. “I’m hot, tired, and sticky.”
“You and me both.” Lilly stepped inside first.
Mia followed and let the tent flap fall, for privacy.
“Wow, it’s warmer in here than I thought it would be,” Lilly said.
“Shouldn’t a tent be cooler?” Mia asked.
“No idea.” Lilly looked up at the canvas over their heads. “Must be this heavy canvas. I bet it doesn’t breathe the way a modern tent would.”
Mia was ready to peel off her sticky clothes. The heat was getting to her, bringing her usually high spirits down. She dug through the ice in the cooler, and extracted a chilled bottle of water, then opened the cap, and took several swallows. She flopped down and sat upon the cooler, brushing at the trickles of sweat snaking down the valley between her breasts.
This was supposed to be her vacation, her man-hunting, romantic, fall madly-in-love-with-some-gorgeous-guy vacation. Here she was, believing the promise of finding her soul mate. Thinking Sir Cedrick might be the one. But now she was unsure.
Right now, she was discouraged. Discouraged, sweaty, and thirsty. She glanced in the mirror and saw how red faced and sweaty she really was. How her red hair was full of tangles from the wind and that her lips were now chapped from their time in the sun.
“I’ve had too much sun,” she said. She also had a headache moving in and wasn’t up for any more time with the knights, handsome though they were. It was never going to work out. She and Lilly would go home Monday night, and she would again be without a boyfriend.
