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Silently, Lorcan walked to Toby, her beautiful face expressionless.
“Look,” Toby said, “I don’t want any problems. You and I—” She broke off because Lorcan went down on one knee in front of her. In a movement that looked as though Lorcan had rehearsed it a thousand times, she extended her arms straight out, her hands into fists, the palms down. Across her outstretched arms was the wide sword, and her head was bent forward so far that the back of her neck was exposed.
In astonishment, Toby looked across the garden toward Graydon. He saw her just as Daire’s sword was flying toward his middle. When Graydon didn’t jump out of the way, Toby let out a little scream, her fist to her mouth.
But Daire stopped his sword just in time to keep from slashing into Graydon.
“Holy Jura!” Daire shouted, then said something in Lanconian that Toby felt sure was a string of curse words.
But Graydon ignored the invective as he stood there looking at Toby.
She started to say something but Daire strode forward to take his place beside Lorcan. They were in identical stances, both of them in one-legged kneeling positions, arms extended, heads bowed, their swords across their arms. As far as Toby could tell, Lorcan hadn’t moved an inch since she’d gone into the position.
Graydon, moving to Toby, spoke. “They are offering their swords for you to use if you wish to remove their heads.”
She looked at him to see if he was joking, but Graydon’s face was absolutely serious. “They have offended you and misjudged you,” he explained.
“And I guess since I’m connected to their king, they deserve the ultimate punishment.” In answer, Graydon gave a curt affirmative nod.
Toby’s impulse was to immediately tell them to get up, but that would seem insulting to their formality. She looked down at them. “I am impressed with your great loyalty to your future king and your country,” she said. “But you really should understand that not all women in this world are trying to get him. I just felt sorry for him for having no place to stay and … well, I’m not sure how the rest of it happened, but I can assure you that I do not have any plans to upset your country. That’s all. You can get up now.”
But they didn’t move.
Toby looked over them at Graydon. “You must say you forgive them.”
“It’s you I don’t forgive,” she said. “So shouldn’t you be down there with them?”
Graydon’s eyes showed he was suppressing a smile. “Kings only surrender if there’s a war.”
Toby looked back at the two kneeling figures and thought that they must be aching from their stance. “I forgive you. Get up! Please.”
Daire and Lorcan raised their heads. Lorcan looked solemn but Daire’s eyes were laughing. They stood up.
“Come on,” Graydon said to Toby. “I’ll let you have a chance at beheading me.”
“That’s the best offer I’ve had this year.”
“I have weeks before I leave, so there’s still hope for better to come.” She tried not to laugh but wasn’t successful.
“Let’s see what you can do,” Graydon said.
She took the sword he held out to her, but then nearly fell backward. “How much does this thing weigh?”
“About thirty-two pounds,” Graydon said as he held his straight out toward her.
“I choose Daire to be my champion,” she said.
Graydon was bending forward and beginning to circle her. “You’re confusing England with Lanconia. In my country each man is his own champion.”
Toby lifted the heavy sword and stuck it down into one of the raised flower beds. “I have a wedding to plan, and now I know exactly what Victoria wants.” She started toward the house, but Graydon caught her by the waist, her back to his front. His lips were by her ear.
“Do you want a surrender from me? A groveling apology?” he asked.
She knew she should push him away but there was something so primeval, so visceral, about his sweaty bare chest against her back that she didn’t move. “I’d rather hear the truth. Did you send Lexie away?”
“That was purely Rory’s idea.” There was pride in his voice. “I saw no reason to say no to his scheme.”
“Did you give me Victoria’s wedding to plan and were you involved in relieving me of my job?”
