Chapter Twelve #3
Bronwyn tensed. She’d recognize that golden, shining hair anywhere.
It was him. The person making the noise was none other than Lady Alice, who started at Bronwyn, then, after making eye contact with her, ran her hand down Rupert’s back and said, “Oh, Rupert…” Her face began to curl up in a smile and she gave Bronwyn a knowing look.
Lady Alice giggled. “Why, Rupert, that tickles.”
Bronwyn stepped on a piece of straw and bumped into a crate of horse feed, making a loud noise.
Rupert’s head whipped around. “Bronwyn?”
Heat flooded her face. “I-I’m sorry.” Bronwyn turned and ran.
“Wait,” Rupert called.
She ran faster, her blonde braid flying behind her in the chilly evening air.
She was glad of the darkness, for it provided welcome cover.
She felt shame to have witnessed such an intimate moment and to have been so non-thinking as to wonder why he might have been in the stables at such an hour.
She wanted someone to talk to. Someone to share her humiliation with, as if tonight hadn’t seen enough of that.
Bronwyn stormed out of the stables, shivering. She hadn’t meant to see them together, but she had, and it hurt. She didn’t want to think of Lady Alice’s knowing smile.
“Bronwyn,” Rupert called.
She kept walking.
“Bronwyn, wait,” Rupert said, running after her.
She picked up speed and started to run, when he clapped a hand on her shoulder and whirled her around. “Bronwyn,” he said, panting. “Wait. Stop.”
She gritted her teeth. “What?”
“Why did you come looking for me? Why did you run away?”
“You were busy.”
He shrugged. “You caught us at a bad time. What is it? What do you need?”
“Nothing. I don’t need anything from you.”
“Then why did you run out like that? You were looking for someone. Otherwise, you wouldn’t have been in the stables this late at night.” His hand still rested on her shoulder. “What is it?”
She glared at him. “You don’t know what you’re doing. You’re making a mistake.”
“What do you mean?”
“Being with her. You’re…”
He snorted and dropped his hand. Rupert stood close, close enough that she could smell the sweat on him, the scent of hay and musk.
Part of her wanted to touch him, feel the press of his chest against her hands. But she didn’t. Instead, she stepped back. “You are toying with her. She is a lady.”
“And I am squire to a knight. What of it?”
“You aren’t the same.”
His handsome face clouded. She could see it by the light of the moon. His mouth turned downward, and his eyes pierced her, keen as a knife’s edge. “What do you care? Alice and I are both consenting adults. It’s no business of yours, anyway.”
“You’re right, it’s not. I just don’t want to see you get hurt is all.”
“I won’t.” He laughed. “Is that really what you are afraid of? Thanks for your concern, but… I’m fine, Bronwyn. You don’t need to care for me. I’m my own man.”
She turned her back. She didn’t want to see his amusement.
“You think she will break my heart, don’t you?”
“Maybe.”
“Maybe she will. But, Bronwyn, it’s my heart to break. I’ll risk it with whomever I choose.”
“I know.” But it would pain her to see him hurting, and she could see no other future for them, and their relationship. “But you’re a squire. She is a lady-in-waiting to an empress.”
“A queen now,” he said, reminding her of their changed circumstances. “And things can change,” he added, his voice even.
“Not this.” She turned back around.
“That’s what you’re unhappy about. That you think it’s wrong.
You don’t care if I get my heart broken at all.
You think it’s wrong we are together because she is higher than me.
” He snorted and ran a hand through his hair.
“I didn’t peg you for a snob, Bronwyn. I didn’t think mere bakers had such opinions. ”
Her face flamed. “I’m not. I just—”
“I understand. You think that I’m not worthy of her.
But let me tell you something. I will be a knight one day, and then I will be worthy of any gentlewoman,” he said, so close to her face that their lips were inches apart.
His glare was so close that she could feel the warmth from his face, almost feel the hairs of his blond beard.
“And it is none of your business whom I kiss.”
“You’re right.”
“Especially when you have your own man to care for.”
She was quiet.
“You aren’t together?”
She shook her head.
“Now that is a surprise. But maybe it isn’t, come to think of it.”
She looked at him. “What do you mean?”
“Your principles. You undoubtedly think that as a squire, Theobold is too high-ranking for you. Perhaps you wish to set your sights lower, like the other cooks. Maybe you think everyone should just be with other people of their own station.”
She met his eyes. “Maybe they should.”
“Well, that is a very small world you live in, Bronwyn. I thought you were more open-minded than that. Now if you’ll excuse me, I’ll go back to my lady. She is waiting for me.”
“Fine,” she said.
“Fine.”
They glared at each other.
“Ha.” He turned, walking back to the stables.
Bronwyn went to the castle’s main hall, where she took up a space against the wall near the other servants. She didn’t see many people she knew but stayed near the women for safety.
She did not fall asleep right away but rather watched the dying crackling embers of the fire in the grand fireplace and remained quiet but for the sleeping forms of the servant women nearby.
She had no friends, no confidante. No one to talk to.
And Rupert had made his preference for Alice known.
And now since she’d walked in on them, she felt doubly embarrassed by going to see him in the first place.
What had she been thinking? As her eyelids grew heavy, she fell into an uneasy slumber and welcomed the oblivion that sleep provided.
But it felt like only minutes before she was shaken awake. Her eyes snapped open, and she tensed. She said groggily in the darkness, “Sister Joan?”
“Come quick. It’s Sir Robert. He’s…”
“What’s wrong?” Bronwyn sat up, fully awake.
“He’s been attacked by an evil spirit.”