Elora voiced her fear in a steady, light voice, “I suppose you have a line of potential suitors for me at the feast?”
Edward’s eyebrows lifted. “Unless you have found a knight to wed.”
“Yes, I have, as a matter of fact. A knight materialized in my room, and I have sworn my heart to him.”
Edward shook his head. “If it were only that easy. There are good, strong men here, Elora. I will be gravely disappointed if you do not pick one.”
“Will they descend upon me like a favorite treat at the feast?”
They turned a corner. “I should hope not. I would not like them nibbling on my sister.” He led the way into a spiral stairwell. “But many know you are looking for a husband.”
As they emerged into a hallway at the bottom of the stairway, someone joined them. “Heading to the feast, Edward?”
Elora barely recognized Edward’s best and longtime friend, Mace. She looked at him, summing him up in one quick sweep: amiable and a fighter. He had a scar that ran from his cheek to his jaw, and she recalled Edward telling her that he had been injured in a smaller tournament in France. His brown hair was long, falling over his shoulders. He was clothed in a simple beige tunic and leggings.
He turned an intense gaze to Elora, and slowly, realization widened his eyes. “No!” he gasped. “This can’t be little Ellie!”
She grinned in greeting. Mace had been kind to her throughout her childhood and had even shared some of his tales with her when she’d been young. She remembered him fondly as one of Edward’s friends that she liked the most.
“God’s blood!” he exploded. “I remember when you were…” His eyes raked over her body. “Well, not a woman.”
“Careful, Mace,” Edward warned. “That’s my sister.”
Mace shoved Edward’s shoulder and laughed.
She had not been at a tournament with Edward in years. When he went, she remained at the castle and took over his duties until his return. She had not seen Edward’s friends in a long time. It was a pleasure to see Edward so relaxed with Mace.
They turned a corner in the corridor, heading toward the Great Hall. A roar of laughter rang out from a group of men standing before the tall double wooden doors. A servant girl scurried away from the midst of the group quickly.
“Up to your old tricks, eh Osmont?” Mace called as they approached.
Osmont.Dread sliced through Elora. How could she have forgotten he would be here? Unconsciously, she clenched her jaw and had to make a concerted effort to relax. Osmont’s hair was as black as his nature, and he wore a drooping mustache that fell to his chin. He was arrogant, boastful, and selfish.
Yet, he was family. He was their cousin. He followed Edward around like a puppy, trying to emulate him.
The group turned to them. Elora locked eyes with Osmont. While she knew Osmont, she didn’t know any of the men surrounding him. They watched her approach with dark looks. Her fingers grasped Edward’s arm tightly as shivers peppered her skin.
The men met each other happily, grasping arms in the customary warrior greeting.
Osmont greeted, “Ellie, it is good to see you again.”
Elora lifted her chin in subtle defiance. It had only been a year ago that he had stayed with them at the castle. Sarah had relayed stories to her about his cruelty to the servants. They had all been happy when he left.
A strange silence settled around the group as they looked at her. What could she say? She wasn’t happy to see Osmont.
Osmont looked at Edward. “Do you mind if I escort her in?”
Edward glanced at Elora. He knew what she thought of their cousin.
She hesitated for a moment. Then she removed her hand from Edward’s arm and placed it on Osmont’s. He would not intimidate her. “I would be delighted.” A lie, a polished lie. Of all the men in the group, it was Osmont that made her cringe the most. She wondered at the poor servant she’d seen running from the group as they approached.
Osmont smiled. It would have been a charming smile if it weren’t for the condescending gleam in his eye. He guided her through the iron-bound doors into the Great Hall.
The clinking of knives and animated conversation filled the room. Long wooden tables stretched at either side of the aisle leading to the front of the Great Hall. Knights, villagers, and nobles dined at the tables. Colorful banners with different knight’s heraldry lined the walls. Soft, rhythmic music filled the spacious hall.
“I’m surprised you allowed me to escort you,” Osmont said, nodding to one knight.
“My brother is right behind us. I don’t imagine you will shove me to the ground or threaten me while he is so close.”
