Page 21 of Knight School Chronicles Box Set

“ T hank you, my lady.”

Evelina smiled at the woman, a farmer’s wife who had lost her husband in an unfortunate accident last harvest. Though she earned coin from assisting the alewife, with three young children, she’d had a difficult winter.

When their bread maker baked extra loaves, Evelina came here first before giving them to any others.

“I am glad to see you all well,” she said in parting, closing the door behind her.

Amalia pulled on her arm so suddenly, Evelina was certain she nearly pulled it from her body.

“What do you mean by?—”

“Quickly,” the maid said. “Over here.”

It seemed she’d saved Evelina’s dress from being ruined. No sooner did they step to the side of the road than the first of a line of mounted knights rode past.

“Were they planning to ride into us?” she asked as two became four and, as they watched, a riding party as large as any she’d seen continued to roll past them.

There were few in the village that did not know of the Guardians, but none spoke of them aloud.

If strangers came through, they would simply see the Baron of Blackwood’s men riding past.

Except, there was no such man. Castle Blackwood had been secured collectively through the nobles who believed in Lady Maude’s cause as a training ground for its secret order. The crest was not any one baron’s, but one with a heraldry that spoke of a secret, and dangerous, message.

That the King of England was not their country’s rightful leader.

“Do you suppose Sir Gareth is among them?”

Amalia rolled her eyes. “If only I could have seen this paradigm of knighthood you’ve been speaking about for days.”

As the sound of the horses’ hooves thundered past, she looked at each and every man but could not discern one from the other. Their helms completely covered their faces.

“Where do you think they are heading?” she asked.

The training grounds were within Castle Blackwood’s walls, and though individual knights could be seen in the village, they did not often travel together so openly in this way. It was unusual, to be certain.

“I do not know. Perhaps—” Amalia froze. As she spoke, one of the men broke off from the others and guided his mount toward them. It was a magnificent horse, one of the finest she’d ever seen.

And then she realized . . .

A fine horse for a fine tourney player. The best, if some were to be believed. Sure enough, the moment she thought it, the knight removed his helm.

Sir Gareth.

His visage had been ingrained in her memory, so often did she think of him. Amalia had been correct in accusing her of as much. There was something about the man she could not stop thinking about. Perhaps it was the way he looked at her, and how much she liked it. Surprisingly so.

“My lady,” he said, his mount dancing beneath him as men continued to ride past. Was it all of the Guardians’ men that took this journey? It seemed so.

“Sir Gareth,” she said, attempting to breathe normally. He was even more handsome than she remembered. More than that, his gaze somehow managed to be admiring without expectation. She could look at the man all day. “This is my maid,” she said, suddenly remembering Amalia. “My friend, Amalia.”

“Greetings, Mistress Amalia,” he said as if he had all day to speak to them. But, of course, he did not.

“Should you not be rejoining your men?” Evelina asked.

“Aye,” he said, though he made no move to do so.

She wanted to ask where the men were heading, but having spent years around the Guardians, Evelina knew she’d get no answer. They were as secretive as anyone, mostly staying inside the walls of Castle Blackwood.

Though there was no reason for them to see each other again, Evelina had wished for nothing more since he’d come to Ashcroft Manor. She and Amalia had even discussed how to make such a thing possible, even as the maid attempted to dissuade her from the plan.

“Do you find yourself in the village often?”

“I do,” she said. “We were delivering bread and will continue to do so until it is gone.” Evelina lifted up the basket in her arms.

“’Tis very generous of you, my lady.”

“Thank you,” Evelina said as one of his fellow knights slowed and moved to join them. He also took off his helm. The blacksmith. He had been to Ashcroft Manor not long ago. Also a very good-looking man, though much quieter than Sir Gareth. He did not seem to smile as easily as Gareth, either.

“Good day, my lady,” he said, looking from her to Sir Gareth. “Sir Alden,” he added. “We met at your home when you and your father graciously welcomed me here.”

“Sir Alden,” she said. She indicated her maid. “This is my maid, Amalia.”

“Greetings,” he said to her as Amalia murmured back the same.

“Perhaps you wish to join us?” Sir Alden said to his companion. In response, Gareth smiled as he did so often.

“Perhaps.” He glanced back down. “If you do find yourself in the village again, perhaps we will meet again.”

“Perhaps,” she said, thinking to leave their conversation at that. Except, there was a part of her, a reckless part of her, that did not wish to leave their meeting again to chance. “I might see you here tomorrow?”

Though she could not see Amalia’s expression, Evelina could imagine it. Her maid would be shocked, for certain. Alden glanced at Sir Gareth, who continued to look down at her, as if trying to determine her purpose.

To see you again.

It was foolish. And misguided. And would lead to naught. Even so...

“We are given leave during the midday meal,” he said to Sir Alden. “Are we not?”

“Aye,” the knight agreed. “Though we must go.”

Evelina had also noticed their riding party was well beyond them. If any noticed the two errant knights, they gave no indication of it.

“I will be here,” he said. “Tomorrow at midday.”

She nodded.

With that, both men replaced their helms and rode away. She watched Sir Gareth until he was near out of view.

“Did you just arrange to meet that man here tomorrow?”

Evelina turned to Amalia as if she floated above the ground, ignoring her friend’s expression. “Perhaps.”

“Evie.” Her maid pulled her close, as close as possible with baskets of bread between them. “This does not bode well. Your father has you all but promised already.”

“Promised to a man who may or may not take the throne someday? Who just as well may remain an outlaw? One who does not know I exist? I’ve as much chance to actually wed”—she lowered her voice—“the empress’s son as the actual King of England himself.”

“It matters not. You will wed him or someone as titled. The choice will not be your own.”

Evelina raised her chin. “As I’ve been told many times.”

“Then why agree to meet him?”

Why indeed?

“Because I wish to see him again.”

“To what end?”

If she were younger, Evelina would cross her arms. But she was no child, even if she wished to act like one now. Of course, Amalia was right.

“I do not know.”

“I do,” Amalia said, her voice firm. “I know now why you are enamored with him. The man is as handsome as they come. And that smile...” She sighed. “I do not blame you for such feelings, but you are not me. You are not free to pursue him, Evie, and know it well.”

“I am not free to do anything except host meals and knit, if I were so inclined. Reading is the only activity I actually am allowed and enjoy, but I wish to put my knowledge to use. To do something more with it.”

The two women once again skirted to the side. This time, however, it was for chickens clucking as they ran past, instead of a riding party of knights.

“This is not the ‘more’ you are looking for,” Amalia warned. “’Tis dangerous.”

Indeed, it was very much so. Both for her and Sir Gareth. If her father learned of it...

“I wish to see him again,” she said stubbornly.

Amalia frowned. “You will not be dissuaded?”

“Nay, I will not.”

Her friend looked around. “Then we must plan well. It would not do to have you and Sir Gareth meet so publicly. Your father will know of it before you even return to the keep.”

Except, everywhere in the village was public. All knew her, and few would hesitate to mention even the hint of an illicit meeting to her father. Not that their meeting would be an illicit one. She had no intention of doing anything other than speaking to him.

If he did attempt to kiss her, what would Evelina do? She’d never been kissed and had wondered many times what it might feel like.

“You have an idea?” she asked, knowing that look on Amalia’s face.

“Perhaps. Come, let us finish delivering these.” The maid frowned. “I really should not encourage this, but if you are going to do this thing...”

If she were going to meet Sir Gareth, none could know of it. Not his instructors. And especially not her father.

Even so, she would not regret her decision.