Máel glanced at the baron’s daughter again and a plan formed swiftly in his mind. “I don't need to get in the parade. I need to get in the stands.”
“Oh, sure, I can do that.” The boy held out his hand.
Máel sighed and dropped another penny into it.
The boy shoved them into some hidden pouch on his person and cast another, less approving, look at Máel. “You've got a lady love in there, haven't you?” He sounded disgusted.
Máel frowned. “What's your name, boy?”
“Odin, sir.”
“Stop calling me sir.”
The boy grinned. “Follow me, outlaw.”
Máel took one last look inside the arena.
D’Argent’s daughter was looking at him. The baron was leaning forward, following her gaze.
He turned and walked away.
Chapter 4
Cassia was sitting in her father’s box, quite properly, when she felt a stillness arrive beside her, on the other side of the low barrier that separated the reserved boxes from the general stands.
She peeked out the corner of her eye. A little shiver of recognition moved through her. It was the man from the gates.
He sat alone. Eating a strawberry. Raw.
How dangerous.
He noted her attention and nodded. She angled her face a quarter-turn away and pretended she hadn’t been watching him.
“'Tis a fine, large morning,” he said by way of inappropriate greeting.
She ignored him and his lack of manners and his beautiful, dangerously raw strawberry.
“Which one's your favorite?” he asked, quite as if they knew each other. As if he had a right to be speaking to her.
Which did nothing to explain why she replied, albeit with a sniff to show she did not wish to be speaking to him. “I haven't one.”
He nodded, then lifted his hand and pointed with one of the strawberries. “Don’t cheer for that one. He’s a bit wobbly in the saddle.”
Voice dripping with disdain, she turned to him. “I'll have you know that is Sir Albert. He won three jousting tourneys last summer alone.”
“Aye? Good for him. Do you think he cheats?”
The shock of the question made her turn fully in her seat to examine him. “How dare you say such a thing? Of course he doesn't cheat.”
He nodded, as if glad to hear it. “Good. Wouldn't want any cheating among noblemen.”
She looked away, determined not to speak to him gain.
He was quiet a moment too, then continued the conversation she did not wish to be having.
“'Tis simply he doesn't look the sort to win three championships in his entire life, let alone one summer.”
“I beg your pardon?”