Page 21 of Veil of Winter

“And when did you last see him?”

She didn’t answer right away. Finally, she said, “Two years ago.”

“And how many times have you met with him?”

“Twice. Once when I was thirteen and once at seventeen.”

“How old are you now, eighteen?”

“I’m nineteen.”

“Do you think he even remembers you?”

“I do. He liked my forthrightness.”

Sir Gerard drew in a deep breath, then let it out slowly. “All I am saying is that we might be able to find help from someone else, someone who isn’t so far away. By the time we reach Prague, King Claude could have taken over Montciel.”

“We must go to Prague. The only other two leaders with whom I have ever spoken are the Archbishop of Prague and the Duke of Görlitz, and Görlitz is beyond Prague.”

“But why? There are other dukes and powerful bishops, or so I’ve heard, all over this part of the Continent. Surely one or two of them have a reason to hate King Claude and would be willing to help.”

Heat boiled up inside her, making her want to lash out at him. He thought he knew the answer to her problems, but he knew nothing of the political situation, of the alliances and enmities between lands and rulers. He thought he could outthink her when he’d only been in her country for a day and she’d lived there all her life.

“You think it is simple, that all we need to do is go and ask the nearest duke for help.”

“I didn’t say it was simple, just that—”

“I don’t have a relationship with those other dukes and men of power, only King Wenceslaus. Most of them would no doubt scorn me, a princess, trying to fight against King Claude. But King Wenceslaus knows me by name and he will help me. Anyone else could easily betray me, seize me, and ransom me back toKing Claude and my father, and then I would have no power at all. Some of my people are already working as slaves in Claude’s mines. Soon even more will be taken from their homes if I don’t do something to save them.”

She was breathing hard now, and Sir Oswalt and Ysabeau were staring at them.

Her cheeks went hot. What did Sir Gerard think of her passionate opinions? Her aunt would look at her coldly, then scold her for saying too much.

“I suppose that is true.” That was all he said, and he looked calm and unaffected. “But doesn’t King Claude have enemies? He doesn’t seem like a very nice fellow.”

Could Sir Gerard really not be disturbed by her display of emotion? Perhaps Sir Gerard was accustomed to adults expressing themselves with intensity. He certainly didn’t react the way her father and her aunt would have.

But what if he refused to help her unless she did what he thought was best?

“I know nothing of these other rulers’ loyalties or of King Claude’s enemies. Besides, who else has more power than the Holy Roman Emperor? But if you do not wish to help me, Ysabeau and I can go on alone.” Even as she said the words, she wondered if she sounded childish.

A lump rose in her throat, nearly choking her. Would her emotions and inexperience cause her to lose the knights’ assistance? No one wanted a spoiled, demanding, emotion-driven princess telling them what to do.

Sir Gerard was silent. Even if he was arrogant, she neededhim and his friend to protect them from all the dangers they might encounter along the way. She had planned for Jacob to accompany them and protect them, but she now realized how foolish that had been. Jacob was getting old, and he’d be no match if they were attacked by thieves as they traveled. And two women alone would certainly not be safe.

Should she apologize to Sir Gerard for being so obstinate? After all, she couldn’t force him to help her. Perhaps she should attempt again to explain.

“I need to speak directly to King Wenceslaus and tell him how King Claude has enslaved his own people to work in his mines, and how he is trying to manipulate my father so that he can do the same to my people, who are shepherds and do not wish to work for him.”

She swallowed the lump in her throat and went on, hoping she sounded humble. “I do appreciate all that you’ve done already, and I hope you and Sir Oswalt will help us get to Prague.”

Surely after such a plea, he would put aside his arrogance and answer her in kind.

Instead, he only replied, “It is the beginning of winter, and traveling could prove difficult.”

She waited, but he said nothing more.

So many things were whirling in her head to retort back to him, but she remembered something her aunt had told her. “When you don’t know how to answer someone, ask a question.” Was that good advice? She didn’t know, but she tried it anyway.