Page 47 of Chivalry in the Meadow
She opened her eyes again and looked through the hanging necklaces, found some with polished rose quartz on silver chains and tried them on until she had the one with the longest chain on. The polished heart shaped stone was beautiful, and it called to her.
Perfect. But would it go with my gown tonight?
This longer chain will leave the stone down in my cleavage. That would hide it beneath the dress.
She liked the idea.
Rose quartz was a heart stone, a stone of love. Perhaps it would bring the thing she most wanted. True love.
Handing them to the shop keeper, she said, “This one to wear and this one to place under my pillow.”
“Then you will always be surrounded by love,” the woman said, smiled at her handing her change and a bag with her stones.
Mia reached in, removed the necklace and placed it over her head. “Might as well start now,” she said. “It can never be too early for true love.”
“Wait,” the woman said. She took out a bundle of white sage and said, “Let me sage you. Many hands have picked up these stones, and if you are wearing it right away before cleansing, this would be best.”
Mia nodded and the woman lit the sage and proceeded to wave the smoke around Mia’s head, neck, and down her whole body.
No matter what anyone said about her beliefs being woo-woo, the sage wafting around her made her feel better.
As if the woman had read her thoughts, she said, “You know native Americans believe in the cleansing power of sage. Many cultures use sage for cleansing.”
Mia nodded.
“Here,” the woman said, grinding the smoking ends of the sage bundle on a large seashell. “Take this with you. Cleanse when anyone has touched your stones, or your person.” She examined the end to make sure it was out and then tucked it into Mia’s bag.
“Thank you,” Mia said.
“You’re welcome,” the woman replied. “Sleep well tonight.”
Mia left the crystal shop and walked to the edge of the field. As she looked out and lingered, she recalled Sir Alaric’s quiet directions. Past the tiltyard. Beyond the armorer’s tent. Against the tree line. There she would find the barn.
Her steps carried her almost without thought, curiosity pulling her farther from the heart of the festival. She wanted to see the horses, the great destriers, up close, without the roar of the crowd. Wanted to see how they were cared for by the knights and squires. She told herself it was harmless, just a glimpse behind the spectacle.
The stables came into view: a long barn with stalls open to the cooling evening air. Horses snorted and stamped inside, their hides gleaming with sweat. The smell of hay, leather and animals was strong, but not unpleasant.
Mia slipped closer, careful not to draw attention. Then she heard voices.
“…you pressed too hard,” came Sir Alaric’s low voice, edged with steel.
Sir Cedric’s laughter followed, bright and careless. “Pressed? I merely gave the crowd what they wanted. A show.You, on the other hand, ride as though every tilt were war itself.”
“Every tiltiswar, when a lance can break a man’s neck,” Sir Alaric snapped. “One day, your vanity will cost you more than bruises.”
“Oh, come now,” Sir Cedric drawled, the sound of him shifting armor accompanying his words. “You brood so heavily, Sir Alaric, one wonders how your horse bears the weight. A knight must win hearts as well as matches. The crowd adores me. And so,” his voice dipped, amused, “do certain ladies.”
Mia’s breath caught. She froze, hidden in the shadows between two stalls, her heart hammering, aware of the heart stone against her skin.
Sir Alaric’s reply was sharp, but quieter, as if he meant it to cut deep. “Charm is fleeting. Honor is not. And no lady worth her salt would mistake the two.”
There was a pause, heavy with unspoken words.
Sir Cedric chuckled again, but the sound lacked some of its ease.
Mia pressed a hand to her chest, over the heart stone, unsure whether she wanted to hear more, or whether she dared be caught listening. She held her breath, pressing back into the shadows as the argument sharpened and then dulled into tense silence.
The horses shifted restlessly in their stalls, as if sensing her nervous energy.
