Was this how it felt to fall in love and want to marry someone? He couldn’t imagine ever feeling this way about any other woman. The princess was so many things—kind, passionate, with a strong sense of justice, and beautiful. Her brilliant smile made his chest ache. He couldn’t remember when he started feeling this way. He’d told himself the kiss did not mean anything, but he couldn’t help wondering if it did. She did not have to kiss him, after all.
What would Delia say? Was this his sister’s plan all along, to get him to fall in love with her friend? Her plan could break his heart.
Delia. She just wanted to help. She and Gerard were a lot alike in that way. Mistress Wattlesbrook, who had worked in his father’s household his entire life, had called them “twins at heart.” But from Gerard’s experiences, being too helpful could get one into trouble and cause unnecessary pain and frustration—mostly to himself.
But he hadn’t come here because of his own helpfulness, or even because Delia wanted him to. He’d come because he truly thought God had told him to.
And so far everything had fallen into place. Perhaps this attraction he felt for Princess Elyce was a test, or even a temptation from the devil, that he was supposed to overcome. After all, Jesus was led into the wilderness by the Holy Spirit to fast and then be tempted by the devil. It was written that all must share in the sufferings of Christ Jesus.
Gerard let out a deep breath. He was tired of thinking about it all, but he felt a measure of peace in redirecting his mind to Jesus, whose suffering meant that all people might be forgiven.
He heard Sir Oswalt’s boots coming from the adjacent room.
“Are you ready to go to the Great Hall?” Sir Oswalt was dressed better than Gerard had ever seen him.
“Is there someone you’re trying to impress?”
“What do you mean?” Sir Oswalt looked down at himself. “There’s nothing wrong with what I’m wearing.”
“Indeed. Someone may think you are the king.”
“And someone may think you are his jester.”
“Because I am so amusing.”
“Don’t quit your knighthood.”
“Now who’s the jester?”
They blustered a bit more, then discussed the night before them and the journey on the morrow.
“You never did tell me about your stroll with the princess in the garden,” Sir Oswalt said as they walked to the door. He stopped, a crooked grin on his face. “Did you kiss her?”
“I did not. We were discussing our plans and strategies—”
“Plans and strategies?”
“I did not kiss her.”
Sir Oswalt eyed him for a moment. “But you wanted to.”
“The man who does everything he wants to do is not a worthy nor a noble man, and I am a knight—”
“Yes, yes, you are very worthy and noble. But a kiss is just a kiss. It’s not as if you are stealing her virtue. She already kissed you once.”
Gerard had a dozen thoughts racing through his mind, but he said nothing.
“You are afraid of breaking her heart, aren’t you? Well, that is probably wise.” He slapped Gerard on the shoulder.
At least he hadn’t guessed the other key reason he did not kiss her—because he didn’t want to break his own heart.
* * *
Elyce rode her horse beside Ysa. It had been five days since they’d left King Wenceslaus’s castle. The king had placed Sir Gerard in charge over his soldiers who were accompanying them, and she sometimes wondered if he used that fact to distance himself physically from her, for he had only spoken to her twice in five days, and then only briefly.
At King Wenceslaus’s feast, Sir Gerard had been seated across from her. It had been noisy in the Great Hall, and he had not attempted to speak to her at all, though she had caught him staring at her a few times. He conversed with the king, who was seated beside him, and with the king’s guard captain on his other side. Meanwhile, Elyce had been seated next to the queen, whom Elyce found surprisingly talkative and friendly.
Later Elyce had noticed Ysa was sitting at one of the lower tables, with Sir Oswalt across from her. Throughout the long feast, every time Elyce looked for Ysa, Sir Oswalt was talking to her, or she to him.
Never had Sir Oswalt said more than a few words in front of Elyce. And now he was talking almost without pause to Ysa? Had Ysa and Sir Oswalt been engaging in a flirtation the entire time?
The notion shouldn’t make Elyce angry. Ysa had every right to fall in love with Sir Oswalt, or anyone else she pleased. It was too ignoble, too beneath her to feel jealous because Sir Oswalt talked with Ysa all night and Sir Gerard barely spoke to her. Elyce absolutely would not allow herself to be envious.
When they were back in Elyce’s room and Ysa was helping her take off her heavy dress and free her hair from its many pins, Elyce had tried to sound very matter-of-fact. “I saw that you and Sir Oswalt were sitting together at the feast.”
“Yes.”
When it was clear Ysa was not about to offer any other information, Elyce said, “Did he talk very much? I rarely hear him say a word.”
“He talked much more than usual.”
“Oh? What kinds of things did he talk about? I’m curious.”
“He talked about the things men usually talk about—horses and fighting and traveling. He talked about England and the places where he has lived.”
“Oh.” And there was another thing that did not make sense. “Why was Sir Oswalt sitting with the servants?”
“He said he did not want me to sit alone with strangers.”
“That was very kind of him. I have never known him to be so thoughtful.” She raised her brows at Ysa.
Ysa’s cheeks were turning red. She began brushing Elyce’s long brown hair but would not look Elyce in the eye in the looking glass Elyce held in her hand.
“I can brush my own hair, as I always do,” she said as she took the brush out of Ysa’s hands. “It is clear Sir Oswalt has his heart set on you, but do you love him?”
“I hardly think we are at the point to be talking about that. And besides, he is going back to England soon.”
“Will you go back with him? If he asks to marry you?”
“You know I do not want to leave my brothers and their wives and children. I love my nieces and nephews, and I would miss them too much.”
Elyce was quiet as Ysa fluttered about the room doing her duties and Elyce finished brushing her hair and getting undressed. Truly, she wanted Ysa to be happy. Even if she could not be with Sir Gerard, she was not so petty that she would be jealous and begrudge Ysa a good husband who loved her.
Besides, one had nothing to do with the other, and his actions that night did not necessarily mean he didn’t care for her.
But now, as they traveled, Sir Gerard seemed to be avoiding her. Sir Oswalt had not made much effort to speak to Ysa either.
She must accept that Sir Gerard did not care for her. She had searched her mind for something she might have done wrong, something she said when they went on their walk in the garden at Prague Castle.
How could she make him fall in love with her?
This kind of thinking did not feel right. Hadn’t she always been trying to make herself more acceptable to others? She had tried so hard to push down her emotions, to deny them, or to hide them at the very least, but she never fully succeeded. Why couldn’t there be a man in the world who would love her in spite of her strong feelings?