Page 25 of Knight School Chronicles Box Set

L ike the day before, Evelina tried and failed to walk slowly to the appointed spot.

A lady simply did not run, yet the deeper she got down the path, Evelina wanted to do just that.

Shaded by ancient trees, the path was even more overgrown now than the last time she’d been here.

The stone benches and cracked fountain were a testament to the priest who had built this garden so long ago, even before she’d begun to spend her days in Ashcroft.

Amalia insisted on accompanying her, and while Evelina did not like the idea of her maid waiting at the entrance of the path, there was no dissuading her.

Nor did Evelina believe Amalia when she said she was glad to use the time to look for herbs.

Her friend’s dream was to open an herb shop, something Evelina was determined to help her do someday, even if she herself had no hope of being anything but a pawn in the game of men and their politics.

He was not here yet.

Standing at the edge of the garden, the small lake now visible, she continued to think on all of it. Her future. Amalia’s dreams. But most of all, Sir Gareth.

Since they’d met, she had thought of little else.

Even her father had noticed at the meal last eve, commenting, “Are you ill, Evie?” Instead of asking why he cared, as he typically hardly noticed her, she instead attempted to be interested in his tales of the king’s misdeeds.

Eventually excusing herself from the meal, she instead spent much of the eve lying on her bed, imagining?—

“Evie?”

Evelina spun toward the sound.

His hair damp, Sir Gareth wore a different surcoat than she’d seen before.

Instead of the golden thorned rose she assumed was the Claymore emblem, this one was plain black.

It was the symbol of the Guardians of the Sacred Oak.

No heraldry marked them, and on missions this was how the knights appeared. To see him as such...

“You wear the mark of the Order.”

He seemed proud of the fact. “I do.”

“I know so little of the happenings at Castle Blackwood, as you know. But I do know they”—she indicated his tunic and surcoat—“are not given lightly.”

“We were told as much. I am honored to wear it.”

“As you should be.”

Greetings out of the way, neither said anything for a moment. Instead, he seemed to be taking in her appearance as she did his. Evelina had worn a gown of deep green, her favorite color. As was the custom, Evelina’s hair hung loose around her shoulders.

“You look beautiful, as always.”

“Thank you. And you, as well.”

“I look beautiful?”

She giggled. “Handsome, more like.”

There. ’Twas in the open, their admiration for each other. As if it were not already, given the fact that each of them risked so much to be here.

“Shall we sit?”

One of the stone benches, overgrown with moss, looked out to the lake. She always thought it curious none seemed to know of this spot.

“Aye,” she said, about to do so when he stopped her. Unclasping the ornate metal pin at his throat, Gareth removed his cloak and laid it down across the bench.

“You will ruin it,” she said, afraid to sit. He did not seem to have the same reservations.

“The laundress may curse me,” he said, “but she will ensure ’tis not ruined.”

Satisfied, she did sit beside him then. It was the closest they had been to each other, aside from their initial greeting, and Evelina’s body responded. A quickening in her stomach and rapidly beating heart made her quite unable to form words.

His hand moved to hers. Taking it, he looked into her eyes as if waiting for her admonishment. One that would not be forthcoming.

“Neither is it my desire to ruin you, Evie. I know as well as you that this, us meeting, is not advisable.”

“Neither is holding the hand of a man I’m not promised to, and yet...” She lifted their joined hands and then brought them back down to her lap. “I’ve not held a man’s hand before,” she admitted.

He squeezed hers then, a gentle, reassuring gesture. Continuing to look into her eyes, Gareth smiled. “I can assure you, I do not take the fact lightly and am honored you allow me to do so.”

“You were able to get away easily enough?”

“This morn we trained with Sir Adrian, and I had worried about getting here. Both of the men who I’d trust to send to you were with me.”

“Sir Adrian. So you trained with horses, then?”

“The joust.”

She laughed. “You know something of that, aye?”

“Aye. He did splinter his lance against me, though we did not engage in multiple rounds.”

“I am both surprised and not, as he is known to be well skilled in that area.”

“As was his father.”

“So I’ve heard.” She paused, thinking on what he’d said. It was difficult to form thoughts when his thumb began to rub circles on her palm. “If we plan to meet and you do not arrive as scheduled, I will assume you or your messengers were unable to come.”

“Ahh, so you plan to meet me again, do you?”

Heat rushed from her neck upward, Evie’s cheeks warming at his jest. “I’d hoped so, aye.”

“I hope so, as well.”

“If you are caught?—”

“We will not speak of it. ’Twould be detrimental to us both if such a thing were to happen.”

“Indeed. So what shall we speak of, instead?” she asked.

“Anything my lady wishes. Politics. Our cause. Your childhood. I would hear your voice and listen, no matter the topic.”

“I was thinking the same. Yours is . . . so very deep.” And then she stammered, “Apologies. I do not know why I said such a thing.”

Gareth threaded his fingers with hers. It felt, somehow, even more intimate than simply holding hands.

“Never apologize to me. For anything.”

“I am accustomed, through years of training, to do just the opposite. For so many things.”

“Your thoughts, your words . . . they are your own. A part of you as much as your fingers and toes. I may agree with them, or not, but they are still yours and therefore well-founded. As such, you should never find a need to be sorry for either.”

“So you never apologize?”

“If I’ve injured someone with my words or action unintentionally, aye. For myself, nay.”

She very much liked the idea. Evelina cocked her head to the side. “Lessons from your mother? Your father?”

“Life,” he said. “When your family is branded traitorous, it tends to change the way you view the world.”

“I suppose it must. Tell me more.”

He did, continuing to hold her hand. They talked for what felt like an entire day, but also, no time at all. Knowing they both must return soon—he to Castle Blackwood for afternoon lessons and training, she to Ashford Manor—was the only dark cast to an otherwise bright afternoon.

“Evie,” he said finally.

“I know already what you will say.”

She’d been staring at his lips. What would it be like to kiss a man such as him? Though she wished him to lean into her, to show her precisely how it would feel, there was not enough boldness in her to suggest it. Or even hint at it.

“The instructor you very much admire does not take kindly to tardiness.”

“Lady Elara?”

“Aye.”

She would not keep him. Reluctantly pulling her hand from his, she stood. Gareth did not immediately rise, telling her, without words, he too wished to stay. Finally, though, he did follow her lead. Then, picking up his cloak, he shook it out and draped it over his arm.

“I would have you return first, so I know you’ve done so safely.”

“I will come to no harm. There’s naught but trees and grass between here and the chapel.”

“Perhaps, but I would ensure you’ve safely made it back to your maid.”

“You saw Amalia when you arrived?”

“I did. She seemed to be picking herbs.”

“She knows more about them than even the village healer. Amalia wishes to open an herb shop one day, though her parents are farmers and have not the coin for such a thing. She has saved some, and someday, I wish to help her achieve her dream.”

“I am certain you will. Evie, will you return tomorrow?”

She should not, of course. But there was naught Evelina wished to do more in this world than see Gareth again.

“Aye,” she said, not even considering otherwise.

Stepping toward her, Gareth took her hand, lifted it to his lips and kissed it ever so gently. “Until tomorrow.”

“Until tomorrow.”

Between his lips on the back of her hand and the knowledge she would see him again, Evelina fairly floated back down the path. Spying Amalia, Evelina ran to her, tossed her arms around her friend, and hugged her tight.