Page 137 of The Champion

“Nay,” Stryder said, knowing the truth in his heart. “She will never belong to you.”

And in that moment, his mother’s face came to him and he had an epiphany.

Rowena did belong to him. Just as he belonged to her and it wasn’t in a way he had thought.

She had touched his heart, his soul and now, as he was about to face his childhood friend turned enemy, he finally understood why Rowena was a goose.

Just as he understood that the only reason Damien wanted her was because Stryder did. She meant nothing to Damien.

But she meant everything to Stryder.

Rowena was right. Some battles could never be fought by sword or lance. Not by arrow or siege.

There was only one way to win his lady...

Rowena held Alexander close as he chattered away about how his father was going to beat the other knight. How no one could ever defeat a knight as great as his father. “My uncle said so,” Alexander said with conviction. “And my uncle never lied to me. Never once.”

She squeezed the little chatterbox as she waited for the match to begin.

As with all the other knights before them, Damien and Stryder faced off. Damien’s armor glinted of golden wealth. Stryder, who could just as easily have had expensive armor, wore a plain silver mail suit over his leather aketon.

The horses stamped until the herald raised the flag. The two knights kicked their horses forward.

Rowena held her breath, waiting for the sounds she hated.

But for once, they didn’t come.

Just as Stryder would have made contact with Damien, he veered his horse away from the lance and the list.

Her jaw, along with everyone in the stands, fell slack.

Stryder tossed his lance to Raven, who stared at him as if he had lost his senses.

Indeed, he must have. Why had he not jousted against Damien?

The herald ran to Stryder and said something she couldn’t hear, even though the crowd was so silent that she could hear her own heartbeat, as everyone waited to learn what was going on.

Was the earl injured?

Had his horse been damaged?

Stryder looked over at her, shook his head at the herald, and then kicked his horse from the field.

The herald ran to the stands where Henry and Eleanor sat. Taking a deep breath, he shouted out, “The Earl of Blackmoor has forfeited the match, majesties. The victor and winner of the tournament is Damien St. Cyr. Duc de Navarre, Comte de Bijoux and Averlay.”

Rowena sat in stunned silence, unable to believe what she had just witnessed.

“I’ll be damned and burned in Lucifer’s deepest pit,” someone said from behind her. “I can’t believe what I just saw. Remember last year when the earl almost killed his best friend rather than see himself lose a match?”

“Aye,” another man said. “The bitch of Sussex must truly be her namesake for the earl to forfeit after all this. I never thought I would live to see Stryder lose a match.”

“And to just throw it no less. She must be the worst sort of womankind.”

Pain seized her heart at their harsh words as her uncle snapped to his feet to confront the men behind them.

“How dare you!” he snarled.

He said something more, but she couldn’t hear it for the ringing in her ears.