“Are you certain? I saw how he hit your wounded arm. Twice. That was no accident.”
Julian scowled and looked at the favor. “She should have known me better.”
Gilbert bridled. “In three days’ time?”
Julian stared down at the favor. She had been hurt. He had seen it in her glistening blue eyes and heard it in her trembling voice. His fist closed around the cloth. “Then I must prove it to her. I must make her see how honorable I am. I might not be noble, but I am honorable.”
“Give her up, Julian,” Gilbert pleaded. “She is noble. She is not for you.”
Julian shook his head sadly. “There were those that told me to give up the joust. That I was no good at it. But I persisted. And now, look at me.” He stood up. “I am not giving her up. Iwill notgive her up. I love her.”
Gilbert sighed softly. “What will you do?”
Elora had insisted Edward be placed in her chambers, and in her bed, rather than in his tent at the campgrounds. Now, she sat quietly beside him, refusing to leave even though the physicians had told her he needed rest. He looked lost in the large bed, pillows around his head and under his wounded leg. A warm cover rested over him. He groaned, tossing his head and grimacing in pain. His brow was wet with perspiration. She dabbed at his forehead with a cloth and retook her chair. She clung to his hand tightly.
He was all she had. Her only family.
The shadows became long as the sun set. But it wasn’t until late that night Edward finally fell into a heavy slumber. Sleep eluded Elora. She released his hand and stood, moving in the darkness to the window. Far in the distance, campfires of the other knights sprinkled the landscape like twinkling stars. Julian was out there. The champion. The winner.
Despondency swept through her barren soul like the winds in the desert. She had seen Julian’s deceit. He had backed his warhorse into Edward’s, causing Edward’s horse to stumble and fall. Her brother’s broken leg was Julian’s fault. Julian couldn’t unseat him, and his desire to win outweighed his honor. He had unhorsed Edward through treachery. She eased the shutters closed and bowed her head, turning away from the window. She had believed Julian to be magnificent and honorable. She had been so wrong.
His desire to win at the cost of all else had been a trait worthy of someone as repugnant as Osmont, not a valiant knight.
“Ellie.”
Edward! He was awake. She rushed to his side, kneeling beside the bed. She took his hand into her own. “I’m here.”
He squeezed her hand. “My leg…”
“Is broken. But you’re alive. You’ll be well soon enough.”
He shook his head and gritted his teeth. “What do the physicians say? Will I walk again?”
Elora hesitated. They didn’t know if he would walk again. But he would certainly never joust or ride a horse. His leg was mangled beyond repair. “It doesn’t matter what they say,” she whispered.
“Doesn’t matter?” he asked with shock and tried to pull his hand free.
She held it firmly. “You’ve never listened to others before. Who are you to listen if they say you will never walk?” She pushed the tremor in her voice down so he would not hear her uncertainty. “You are Edward of Kingston. You will walk if you want to.”
The silence stretched through the surrounding darkness. Distant laughter floated in from the hallway. A log crackled in the fire of the hearth.
“Edward,” she whispered desperately. “Say something.”
“What am I to do?” he answered softly, brokenly.
“Do?” she repeated as tears rushed into her eyes. “You shall get better. You shall recover.”
“And then what? What if I can’t walk? What if I can’t ride.”
“We’ll take one day at a time,” she offered.
“My horse. He fell. Is he—”
Elora answered quickly, avoiding the question. “As I said, we’ll take one day at a time.”
Again, more silence. Elora’s hand constricted around Edward’s. Her stomach clenched. What was he thinking? What was going through his mind? She couldn’t stand to see her brother like this.
“He defeated me.”
