Page 63 of Knight School Chronicles Box Set

S omehow, they’d avoided each other the first two nights. But as they rode into Ashbourne Castle, Roland appeared suddenly behind her. For a moment, she’d considered declining his extended hand in helping her to dismount, but Amalia could not slight him in that way.

Not when she had spent the past two days alternatively wanting to speak with him and hoping to avoid him.

When their hands touched, it was precisely how Amalia remembered it. Thanking the stable boy who took her mount away, she walked with Roland, behind the others.

“We’ve still three days of riding ahead before reaching Lincoln Castle. How do you fare thus far?”

“Well,” she said. “Evelina and I rode to the village most days.”

Darkness had fallen, their need for haste to fetch the future queen for her coronation more important than their comfort.

It had taken Amalia these past few days to become accustomed to the fact that she was here, among the best knights in the land, with a purpose to serve in a most worthy cause.

Each day back at Castle Blackwood had helped to lessen Amalia’s feeling of inadequacy.

She’d never considered herself a true healer, not having practiced at it as often as she’d like, so she thought herself more an herbalist. But thus far, she’d been able to aid every man who had been injured in some way.

She was no surgeon, and Amalia feared there would be some wounds, if a battle were to occur, she could not attend to.

But Sir Eamon had assured her the local villages would serve that purpose, and she could at least fend off festering wounds and offer dietary advice that might prevent illness.

“I would speak with you,” Roland said, hanging back even more. As the others went into the keep, the two of them slowed, remaining in the center of the inner courtyard. Standing beside the well, they watched as Alden and Darien strode past, noticing them but saying nothing.

She waited.

“When Gareth and Evelina returned, it was difficult not to notice how happy they were.”

“Indeed,” she agreed, trying not to notice how handsome Roland appeared in the all-black though nondescript surcoat that was the uniform of the Guardians of the Sacred Oak.

Atop his warhorse, he had appeared downright menacing.

Now, standing beside her, though he continued to radiate power and strength, there was a gentleness about his expression that took away some of his earlier edge.

Not that she had been looking, of course.

“He risked much to be with her. As did Lady Evelina.”

“I cannot disagree with you,” she said. “Even now the baron continues to threaten to withhold her inheritance, even if he will allow the marriage to stand. But I do not believe my lady cares for that, or anything, save the love of her husband.”

Roland jaw set, he appeared almost angry. Nay, not angry. Determined.

“Roland?” She’d never seen him look this way before.

“I can risk no less.”

She didn’t understand.

“I wish for another night like the first. To look up at the stars with you. That kiss...I’ve thought of it a thousand times. I wonder where you are, what you’re doing. If you’re safe. My thoughts are consumed by you, Amalia, and I would risk no less than Gareth.”

“You . . . wish to be with me?”

“I wish to court you, aye.”

Amalia found the edge of the stone well and sat, suddenly unable to stand. She looked up.

Roland sat beside her.

“You do not wish to marry.”

“I did not wish to marry. Neither have I met a woman who has intrigued me more than you. I am not proud of the fact, but you asked if I’d been with many women.

And I have. If I know anything, it is my feelings about women, and never have I been consumed this way before.

I’d not defile you, but neither can I stay away.

When I learned you’d be accompanying us.

..I spent these past days thinking. Considering.

Hoping for you to come to me, but knowing I needed answers if you did.

It was not a difficult decision, to court you, if you’ll have me. Not feeling as I do.”

“Roland,” she said, somehow able to find words after such a revelation. “You cannot marry a farmer’s daughter.”

“I can. And will. If you’d have me.”

“We hardly know each other,” she said. “You would risk everything, the earldom, for a woman you do not know?”

“That is the purpose of courtship, my dear Amalia.”

“Have you gone mad?”

Roland did not crack even a hint of a smile. “I am thinking quite clearly, I can assure you.”

She’d never expected this conversation. These past days had been torture, avoiding him. But Amalia had guarded her heart, knowing she had no other choice. And now...this.

“Court me.”

“Aye.”

“An unconventional courtship, would you not say? On likely the most important mission of your life.”

“And yours, Amalia. You are one of us now.”

Indeed, she was.

“An earl’s son simply does not marry a lady’s maid.”

“Neither does he join the opposing force to his father, the earl. Neither does he break a betrothal. If my father disinherits me, it will not be because of you. What sort of man would I be, to watch Gareth and Lady Evelina risk the same and sit back, allowing the only woman for whom I’ve had such feelings as I’ve had these past days to be with someone else? ”

“There is no one else,” Amalia said quietly.

“Not now. But there will be. The men all speak of you as if you are an angel sent from the heavens. Not only the ones you’ve aided, either.”

“’Tis because there are no other females, save Lady Elara, at Castle Blackwood.”

“Nay, Amalia, ’tis because you are beautiful. And kind. And skilled. Do not speak ill of the woman I’m determined to court, whether she will have me or nay.”

Her brows rose. “You will court me no matter my response to you this eve.”

“Aye, I will.”

“What I say here matters not then.”

“It matters very much. If you say nay, it will make our courtship more challenging, but ’twill not dissuade me. I know you desire me, Amalia, as I do you.”

Her heart thudded. “How could you know such a thing?”

He smiled for the first time since they began to speak. “Our kiss revealed you, my lady.”

“I am no lady, as I told you before. Just a simple mistress?—”

“You will be if we marry.”

Suddenly, his words became real to her. She would be the wife of an earl’s son. Amalia shook her head. “I have no ambitions except for my herbs. This is...’tis too much.”

“It is precisely your lack of ambition for a title that endears me to you. That, among many other things. I simply cannot stay away from you, Amalia, and do not wish to try any longer. Allow me nothing more than conversation, courtship. Perhaps you will decide you do not wish to be with me.”

Amalia was fairly certain that would not happen. And had known, from the moment he first asked, what her answer would be.

“You may court me,” Amalia said.

Roland smiled.

“I am glad for it.” He stood and offered his hand. “I will begin doing so this very eve.”

Amalia was about to ask what he meant when a voice called to them. “Roland? Amalia? You are needed in the keep.”

It was Alden.

“We are coming,” he called back.

“It seems an urgent matter,” she said.

“Everything is an urgent matter with this mission. But no more urgent than this conversation. I will admit, your answer pleases me. Very much.”

“As your question pleases me.”

Together they made their way toward the keep, where it became apparent why Sir Eamon was looking for him. Or rather, Amalia.

Alden stood with a man she did not know, but by his clothing he appeared to be a knight of Ashbourne. He also appeared to be a walking corpse. Amalia had never seen a man that shade of white before.

She ran to him, Roland forgotten.

At least, for now.