Page 56 of The Champion

“Aye. A woman would only distract me from my duties, and I would ever fear to leave her, lest her head be turned by another in my absence.”

“Women are no more faithless than men, my lord. It takes two to commit adultery.”

“Aye, it does indeed.”

She came forward and set the lute in his lap. “Do you need me to show you the chords?”

He shook his head.

Rowena was startled the instant he placed his hands on the lute and began plucking an old ballad. He made a few mistakes, but overall, his technique and skill were impressive.

This was a man who had once played often.

“You’re remarkable.”

“My mother’s doing. She oft said that the only way to woo a woman’s heart was with poetry and song.”

“You don’t agree?”

He gave her a droll stare. “I have yet to meet a minstrel who is chased more than I am, Rowena. I haven’t noticed you having to hide in the shrubs with one of your mewling troubadours.”

She laughed in spite of herself. “Truer words were never spoken.”

“What is this?”

Stryder looked up to see Swan entering his tent. The man’s face was horrified as he caught sight of Rowena and the lute in Stryder’s hands.

“Nay, nay, nay!” He rushed forward to pull the instrument away. “I thought we had this discussion. You and Rowena hate each other while we keep her maids occupied, so that they cannot play matchmaker. And yet, I turn my back and find the two of you in here...alone. Nay, this I cannot allow.”

Rowena exchanged a puzzled frown with Stryder. “You told your men to occupy my maids?”

“Nay,” Stryder said quickly. “They took that duty upon themselves. I honestly had nothing to do with their machinations.” He glared at his knight. “Truly, they have gone mad.”

“Nay, we are not mad, Stryder. We’re only looking out for everyone’s best interest.” He handed the lute to Rowena and urged her towards the door.

“This isn’t mine.” She whirled from his grasp, toward Stryder.

Swan’s features were appalled. “Already she’s taken root. You’ve purchased one of these for your own?”

“Relax,” Stryder snapped. “It belonged to my mother.”

“Ah.” Swan took the lute from Rowena and handed it to Stryder. “In that case, return it to hiding while I escort the lady back to the castle.”

“And if I wish to stay?” Rowena asked.

Swan didn’t hesitate with an answer. “I shall toss you over my shoulder and carry you there.”

“Is your man serious?”

“Most likely.” Stryder handed the lute to Swan. “Put this away and I shall escort her back.”

“That rather defeats the purpose of keeping the two of you apart.”

“Calm yourself, Swan. Rowena and I are only friends.”

“And hell is just a balmy isle. Nay, I think it⁠—"

“Put the lute away,” Stryder said firmly, cutting off his words. “I shall be back shortly.”