Cecily looks up at the first knight. “Sir Devlan, will you be competing in any tourneys this year?” She bats her long, kohl-coated lashes.
Devlan nods once. “I will, Miss Cecily.” He rocks back on his heels. “I have a title to defend.”
She slaps her hands together. “That’s right. I nearly forgot you won the melee last season.”
“Yes.” Devlan’s eyes slip over me. “But it will be the only tourney I’m entered into.”
“For shame. I’d love to see you joust.” Cecily puckers her lips into a pout. “But, the melee is the most impressive. I’ll be cheering for you, Sir Devlan.” She gives him a wide, toothy smile.
I study Devlan for a moment. His eyes are trained on Sebastian now. I wonder if he roots for him to win or secretly wishes him unhorsed.
“Cecily,” I say, turning toward her. “Is it true Prince Sebastian has never been unhorsed?”
Her lips twitch into a smile as her eyes scan me, then she looks to the field. “It’s true. Although, more than just knights have tried to unhorse him.” A laugh tumbles from her mouth.
“Oh, Cecily,” Sabina chimes in. “You’re so wicked.” But she joins in with the laughter of Cecily and the other girl.
I scrunch my face. “What do you mean?” I ask, and they shoot me looks that imply I’ve said something stupid. I haven’t grown up in Court like them, nor have I been privy to gossip and the secret talk of the courtiers. But when they all turn their heads and stare down at Sebastian like animals tracking their prey, I regret my question.
Cecily dips her head toward me and lowers her voice into a whisper. “Sebastian is quite the flirt. Always with a girl on his arm. That is, until recently, of course.” She tosses me a quick smile, then returns her wide, hungry gaze back to the prince. “It became quite entertaining to watch girls throw themselves at him, all bidding for his affections, a tourney in itself.”
“Well,” I say, inwardly discounting that he’d simply stop with the courtesans due to our engagement, “mayhap he has other things on his mind. Like becoming a king.”
“Mayhap.” Her eyes are far away as she watches him. “But the way he rides…you just know a man like that knows his way around the bedchamber.”
I catch myself before my mouth falls open. I look back to Sebastian getting ready to charge: his back straight and strong, his lance in hand, the sun glinting off his armor. He’s handsome, there’s no question, and hearing he’s experienced is no shock. I assumed as much before having his and Cecily’s relationship confirmed. I can also picture him through Cecily’s eyes: a trophy to be won.
But when I look closely at Cecily—her eyes following his every move, her thin lips pressed together in anticipation, her creamy fingers laced together so tightly her knuckles turn white—I question if it’s not more than that for her. Whether or not she truly cares for him. Her tough exterior doesn’t match the hurt I observed as she spoke with him earlier.
“Don’t worry.” Cecily breaks the hushed spell falling over the crowd. “If any of them had been successful, you’d have heard about it.” She smiles sweetly. “These are not girls who can hold their tongues when such bragging rights are in play.” She winks.
As I squint at her, taking in the innocent look she has smeared on her face, I know she is staking her claim—her bragging rights.
Suddenly, her spite becomes clear. If I had been with a man only to be discarded—only to watch him betroth another—I’d be livid, too. Although, I believe I’d unleash some of that venom on the one who did the discarding.
I look at Sebastian lifting his lance at his side, majestic and poised for battle, and my stomach roils. Cecily may not be the most pleasant maiden I’ve encountered, but she doesn’t deserve to be used and cast off.
Sabina leans forward and waves her hand at us. “They’re about to start.”
Near the center of the long railing, a man wearing a burgundy vest and black hose waves a white flag. Sebastian kicks his heels, and Hawken gallops. I look down the rail at a knight on a dark brown horse, coming at the prince. I want to close my eyes, but I can’t help needing to see the impact. It’s like waiting for a horrible accident—and knowing it’s coming. You can’t look away.
Sebastian raises his lance at the last moment and it crashes into the knight’s shoulder. The knight sways a couple times before falling to the ground. His lance drops to the earth, un-shattered.
The crowd jumps to its feet and cheers its prince. I follow their lead and spring from my chair, clapping as Sebastian circles Hawken back around to the knight.
Sebastian dismounts and walks over to the fallen knight. I believe he’s about to offer him a hand, help him up in a show of good sport, until he bends and picks up the fallen lance. He flips the carved black wood and then uses the handle to strike the knight in the head.
My mouth opens. My hands freeze mid-clap. When the knight attempts to rise, Sebastian hits him over the head again, and the knight goes limp. I glance around at the crowd, expecting to see appalled expressions. Instead they cheer their prince on as if his actions are not only common, but expected of him.
I look back to Sebastian and stare wide-eyed. This cannot be the same man I talked with at the meadow, the one who spoke of changing the realm for the better. Nor the man who showed such tenderness to his mistress only moments ago. Is his father watching? Who is Sebastian putting on this show for? Is it a show?
“My, Zara.” Cecily leans into me and gives me a smile. “You’re either as stimulated by male aggression as I am…” She glances at Sebastian. “Or you’re in for a surprise in the bedchamber.”
THIRTEEN
After the joust, I quickly part ways with the noble ladies and their ladies-in-waiting. Strangely, I find myself missing the company of my maid. Madity might have the nerves of a squirrel, but I prefer her conversation over the boring dribble of the noble blood of the court.
Once I relieve Devlan of his duties for the afternoon, I enter my room with a huff and plop down on the bed. He’s been with me every waking moment and, although I’m getting used to his constant lurking, I want him to have time to himself. When he’s not with me, what does he do? Where does he go?