AllFreeNovel
Share Us
Lord Bardaline greeted him in the receiving salon. “Ah,” he said as if he was expecting someone else, and pulled a face that suggested he was disappointed by finding William standing there. “Her Royal Highness is at her exercise.” He led William down the long hallway—mercifully free of flowers—and onto the back terrace. Once there, he pointed to one of the lower terraces.
Justine, dressed in her fencing attire, was advancing on a man who was twice her size. His footwork was familiar in its sluggishness—the opponent kept stumbling as he tried to parry. “Who is her opponent?”
“Lord Mawbley.”
“Again?”
Bardaline shrugged. “He seems to enjoy the sport.”
“I’m no’ sure that’s what he enjoys,” William muttered. Justine forced Mawbley back on his heels again. “She’s very good, aye?”
“Mmm,” Bardaline said as if unconvinced. When William gave him a look, he shrugged. “I don’t consider it appropriate activity for a future queen. Particularly if one is expected to dress in that manner.”
William thought dressing in a long skirt with a petticoat would make it a damn sight harder to fence properly. “I would think citizens of Wesloria would like to know that their sovereign can wield a sword and won’t wilt at the first sign of trouble. That she can, in fact, lead the charge.”
“All very good qualities for a medieval queen,” Bardaline said with a slight sniff.
A small dog with a white-and-brown coat suddenly appeared and bounded up the terrace steps, racing for William’s feet. He automatically squatted down to greet the dog. Not a pup, but not very old, either. The dog was eager to lick his hand. William indulged him for a moment, and happened to glance up just as Justine pinned Mawbley with the tip of her blade at his throat.
Mawbley dropped his weapon and held out his arms, surrendering. Then he bowed deeply and applauded her. William could hear Justine laugh as she took a bow.
Bardaline set off down the stairs to speak to her, the dog on his heels, leaving William on the terrace alone. He didn’t like to be left standing here as if he was the next suitor, so he, too, went down the stairs to the lower level. He watched Justine remove her mask, that long tail of dark braid streaked with the thin strip of white tumbling down her back. He found it exceedingly difficult not to ogle her in her fencing attire. It required what felt like the strength of ten thousand mules. He envied Mawbley his mask.
Justine listened to what Bardaline said, but made a sound of glee when she saw the dog and bent down to scoop it up. When she stood, she noticed William and smiled, her eyes glittering like panned gold. The effect of that smile on his body was startling. It felt a bit like jumping into a cold lake—all of his senses came alive.
She handed her weapon and mask to Bardaline. “Good afternoon, my lord.”
“Your Royal Highness,” he said, bowing. “I would ask how you fare but I see that you are very well indeed.”
“Thank you, I am.” She held up the dog. “You’ve not yet met Dodi.”
He reached out to scratch the dog’s ears. “Pleased to make your acquaintance, Dodi.”
“She is a gift from Lord Mawbley.” She smiled prettily at her opponent.
“How very kind of him,” William said.
Mawbley removed his mask and smirked in William’s direction. “Her Royal Highness misses her dogs.”
William had to swallow down his intense desire to tell the smug bastard that he knew that. He said instead, “Lord Mawbley, how do you do?”
“Very well. If you’ve come to fence, I should warn you that Her Royal Highness has bested me in every bout.”
If he meant to convey that he’d spent much time in Justine’s presence to annoy William, he succeeded. “I’m no’ surprised. I think we all fully expect to be speared whenever she holds a sword. And your footwork is no’ as good as it ought to be.”
One of Mawbley’s brows rose. His laugh was a little stiff. “Very true, my lord. But at least I will pick up a foil and attempt it. Have you?”
“He has not,” Justine chirped as she stroked the dog’s fur.
“Perhaps he fears being bested.”
“I donna fear it. I know it is inevitable. I never learned the sport.”
“Didn’t you?” Mawbley asked. “I thought all Scots were proficient with a sword and a caber.”
“I could teach you, Douglas!” Justine said delightedly. “To fence, that is—I don’t know what a caber is. But fencing is exhilarating. Particularly when you win.”
William and Mawbley laughed politely. “I would be honored,” William said and directed his smile at Mawbley, who certainly had not intended to give the princess a reason to be in William’s company.
