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R olf swiped a hand over his face and let out a noisy sigh.

He had discussed the matter with his queen the day after he had bared his heart to Melissa.

Eleanor’s troubadours sang of courtly love and chivalrous knights.

Who better to advise him on how to win a woman’s heart?

But the inability to speak with Melissa alone frustrated his efforts.

He had not returned to the priory. To jeopardize her reputation would not improve the Garrick’s opinion of him.

Melissa was fascinated by his background and story.

They were drawn to each other physically.

But did she…could she love him? With great trepidation, he had agreed to learn the skills necessary to court her in the traditional way.

He suddenly understood why so many others had failed before him.

The tactics used between these noble men and women boggled his mind.

They were more complicated and cumbersome than any battle strategies he’d had to master.

And he had so much more to lose. It was no wonder Merlin was trapped in that Rowan tree.

“You need to engage her, help her realize the destiny you both share,” Eleanor had told him with an elegant wave and a soft smile.

Her words echoed in his brain as he paced the battlements overlooking the Thames. It occurred to him it would be a destiny shared with Merlin. How could he explain to Melissa the old man would always be entwined in their lives?

He rubbed his face with both hands, took a deep breath, and let it out with a rush. He had not thought about life after the quest until a future with Melissa seemed possible. Merlin had no other family. Would the old man wreak havoc on their world or allow them a peaceful existence?

He leaned his elbows on the cold stone, taking in great gulps of the crisp air.

The day was overcast, and the river churned with froth-tipped waves.

Several small barges passed by, laden with merchants’ goods.

The sound of voices drifted up from the shore, male laughter and grunts.

For a moment, he wished he were one of them.

No obligations, no heavy weight on his shoulders.

He rubbed the plum amulet distractedly. “I’m doing my best, Merlin. ”

So close. You are so close. He could almost hear Merlin’s words on the light wind.

He had wooed Melissa for the past weeks, according to his queen’s instructions, while she kept Roker at bay during their time together.

Her father tried to interfere at first but relented after speaking with Her Highness.

Each day Rolf had played chess with Melissa, ridden the hunt, walked in the gardens, or sat with her during a meal.

The more time he spent with Melissa, the more his heart ached at the thought of losing her.

If he could only get her away from the constant throng of people.

Yet, he dare not manipulate another meeting.

He had taken enough risk when he arrived unannounced at her chamber door.

But the thought of her soft lips under his, the curve of her hips beneath his hands…

This morning Eleanor had “invited” him—though it had been a command—to the banquet and subsequent festivities.

“A dance will be the perfect vehicle for you. A man can touch a woman while the music plays without an eyebrow raised.” She’d teased him about becoming a fine courtier and bid him dress as a trusted knight of the king, not a mere soldier.

So, he wore his finest silk shirt of pale cream under the deep wine-colored tunic.

Rolf could feel the hard stone under his feet in the tanned leather shoes and longed for the support of his boots. What would you think of me now, Edric?

He rubbed the amulet again for reassurance, threw his shoulders back, and grasped the hilt of his sword.

Fearless in battle, Rolf found it irritating that this coming encounter made his stomach quake.

He headed down the circular stone staircase to join the guests in the great hall and prayed to Merlin’s gods for strength.

***

He sensed her presence long before he saw her.

She stood near the large open hearth with her mother and another family of nobles.

She wore a long tunic of emerald green that matched her eyes.

A belt of gold braid draped over her hips, pulling the soft wool tightly over her curves.

Blonde waves fell in thick plaits over shoulders and spilled onto her milky–white breasts.

His gaze lingered too long at her neckline and he felt his body stiffen. Is it against the rules to cast a spell on my manhood? He recognized the family as he neared the fireplace. The Earl of Leicester hailed him with a warm welcome.

“My friend, it has been too long. How goes it in Scotland?” Shrewd and observant, the earl missed little. The flush on Melissa’s face did not escape him.

“Robert, it is good to see you again.” Rolf bowed in greeting. “I have scarcely spent any time there, but I hope to return soon. Are the Midlands still prosperous for you?”

“Indeed. I believe England will thrive under our new monarch. I hope you intend to remain a part of Henry’s court,” Beaumont said. “We need more men like you to keep this country unified.”

He nodded in agreement. “I am in His Majesty’s service for his lifetime, as I am yours. I only hope my skills will be rarely needed.”

“Where are you staying? Tell me it’s not some drafty old inn. You must come stay with us. Amicia will never forgive me if—”

“Now what have you done?” asked a gray-haired woman with laughing brown eyes. “Ah, Lord Arbrec. How good to see you.”

Rolf bowed low and kissed the woman’s hand.

He noted the darkening gray of her hair and the added lines on her face.

Yet, the Countess of Leicester still looked much younger than her fifty years.

“And you are as lovely as always. My heart is happy to see you well again. I heard there was some concern last spring.”

“Yea, she gave us quite a scare,” agreed Robert. “Not many survive such a fever. She recovered over Lent, and I would not allow her to fast. In exchange, she gave enough to the church to feed several families for the next year.” He smiled indulgently at his wife.

“I am in good health. Let us talk about more joyful subjects.” Amice took Rolf’s elbow and artfully pulled him into the group. “Will you attend the coronation?”

“Aye, my lady. I have some business that will keep me busy until then.”

“Well, you must stay with us. I long to hear more of your stories.” She looked at the Garricks. “He has quite the imagination. His narrative is quite eloquent.”

“I would love to hear some of your tales, Lord Arbrec,” added Melissa, her eyes flashing with amusement. “I can imagine they are quite entertaining.”

The dinner horn sounded and guests made their way to designated tables.

From the corner of his eye, he saw the Duke of Sunderland enter and move in their direction.

This would not end well, he knew. To his surprise, Roker acknowledged the group civilly and asked to join them.

Lord Garrick looked relieved that an altercation had been avoided and heartily agreed.

It was soon apparent he meant to goad Rolf into a confrontation.

Roker positioned himself next to Melissa, forcing Rolf to sit across from her.

He found every excuse to lean close and touch her sleeve or hand.

A drop of broth clung to her chin, and Roker picked up a cloth and wiped it from her face.

When the muscles in Rolf’s jaw twitched, she sent him a pleading look and turned away from both men to engage her mother in conversation.

Servants cleared the last course, and the final blessing was said.

Bowls of water were offered again for the guests to cleanse their hands while the trestles were taken down and returned to their positions against the walls.

Troubadours entered and addressed the royal couple with a poem about love, fertility, and prosperity.

Everyone applauded and called for more. The queen and her ladies moved in front of the hearth.

Eleanor whispered to one of her attendants.

The older woman moved through the crowd and tapped Melissa on the shoulder.

She and Agnes soon joined the queen’s retinue near the fire.

The troubadours entertained the crowd with several songs.

With each verse, Roker’s face grew tighter as he watched the women across the room.

Satisfaction filled Rolf as frustration replaced the duke’s smug look.

After much applause, the musicians chose their instruments for the dancing. The notes of windpipes, lutes, and a tambourine began to softly play a carol.

“Greetings to my old friends and new,” boomed the voice of Henry II.

“My wife would like to welcome all my vassals with a dance.” He placed a hand on the side of his mouth, sharing a secret with the crowd.

“Please be gentle, she carries another heir.” The room exploded with cheers and congratulations.

“Long live the King” echoed through the room.

The musicians increased their volume as guests strolled to the center of the room, forming two concentric circles.

As Eleanor walked past Rolf, she took his hand and led him to the inside chain.

Then she nodded and smiled at Melissa, who stood across from them.

When the participants took their first step left, Roker broke in between Melissa and her mother.

Anger surged through Rolf, but he checked it when the queen squeezed his fingers.