9. Laurel #5
The audience burst into laughter as Baron raised his fist triumphantly into the air.
“Quite an arrogant showman, isn’t he?” Leopold said nastily.
“He did just win back-to-back rounds. He has reason to be proud.” I clapped along with everyone else.
“He had an easy opponent.”
“Would you be a more difficult opponent?” I asked sweetly.
I could tell just by looking at Leopold that he would not pose any threat to Baron. His hands were too soft.
“I would,” Leopold said at once.
“I’m sure you would be.” I gave him an innocent smile. “I suppose you could always challenge him later to see who is better. I would very much like to watch that.”
Leopold’s eyes flicked toward Baron, who stood near the side of the field with his enormous arms folded across his broad chest. Even from a distance, his size was impossible to ignore. His expression was hard, his shoulders squared, and no one seemed particularly eager to stand too close to him.
Leopold cleared his throat. “I don’t need to prove anything. I know that I would win. Especially if it were a javelin contest.”
The next two knights entered the ring, and I turned back to watch them parry and swipe at each other.
Apart from Baron’s most recent duel, all the matches were growing longer and fiercer.
The opponents were tiring from their repeated battles.
They puffed for breath between attacks, and sweat darkened the hair on their foreheads.
I looked almost longingly at the matches. I knew that body-wide ache and the sting of sweat in my eyes and missed it immensely. What I wouldn’t give for a good fight right about now. Scrubbing floors and tending fireplaces wasn’t particularly thrilling.
Finally, the competition was whittled down to Baron and one last opponent. The knight Baron faced was flushed bright red, and his movements had grown slower and clumsier with every round. His shield sagged but he still looked grim and determined.
The match began, and the knight tried to end it quickly with a heavy swing.
Baron sidestepped, blocked the next blow, and drove him backward with three sharp attacks.
The knight managed to hold on longer than I expected, but not by much.
Baron caught him off balance, swept his sword aside, and forced him to yield.
The crowd roared in approval, and I applauded long and loud along with them.
“So, Isabella,” Leopold said beside me, leaning closer to speak above the crowd’s noise, “you said you’re going to the dance tonight, but you didn’t say if you’re going with anyone.”
“No, I’m not accompanying anyone, my lord.”
“No need for ceremony. You may call me Leopold.” He flashed a toothy smile.
“Ah, begging your pardon, my lord, but I don’t think that would be proper. I’m just a servant. I wouldn’t feel right calling someone of your station by his first name.”
On the field, the tournament director approached Baron with a rose and handed it to him. They exchanged a few words, but I couldn’t hear them over excited spectators.
Then Baron looked up. His gaze moved over the crowd and stopped near me, then began walking in my direction.
I caught my breath. He couldn’t possibly be thinking of offering it to me. People would suspect. They would talk. The new Sheriff of Nottingham offering a rose to a random servant girl was already dangerous enough. Offering it to me, even in disguise, was madness.
He came closer. The girls behind me noticed and erupted into squeals.
“Yoo-hoo, Sheriff!”
“Hi there, handsome!”
“Over here!”
My pulse beat hard against my chest. Baron was only ten feet away now, the rose held carefully in one hand.
“And what if I were to ask you to accompany me to the dance tonight?” Leopold asked quickly. He had seen Baron approaching too. “Would you feel more comfortable then?”
“Um…”
Baron stopped directly in front of me.
For one terrible, wonderful second, I forgot how to breathe.
“Would you accept this rose and accompany me to the dance tonight?” he asked solemnly.
“I asked her first!” Leopold snarled.
Baron raised his eyebrows mildly. “I wasn’t asking her.”
He inclined his head toward me. “No offense, milady.” Then his eyes lifted to someone standing behind me.
I turned. There was a girl standing behind me. She was pretty, with a trim figure, long brown hair, and a radiant smile. I hated her immediately.
Her hands flew to her mouth before she reached for the rose. “Yes, I would love to, Sheriff.”
She accepted it eagerly and handed Baron a handkerchief in return. He tucked it into his pocket and bowed. The crowd cheered and the girls around me sighed. The girl with the rose looked as though she might float away from happiness.
I knew Baron couldn’t act like he knew me. I knew he would not want to draw attention to us. I knew all of that and yet it still sent a sharp pulse of irritation through me to see another woman hanging on Baron’s arm.
Two could play this game.
I turned back to Leopold and slid my hand into the crook of his elbow.
“Yes,” I said, giving him my brightest smile. “I would love to go with you to the dance, my lord.”