Page 82 of Gwen and Art Are Not in Love

‘That’s not sleeping.’

‘Stay,’ Gwen said, knowing she sounded desperate and only slightly caring. ‘Please.’

Bridget considered Gwen; she must have lookedcompletely pitiful, because a moment later she was taking off her own boots so that she could climb up on to the bed.

It should have been awkward, but Gwen was too exhausted to care; she lay down, and Bridget lay down next to her, both fully clothed and staring up at the canopy ceiling.

‘I don’t evenlikehim,’ Gwen said eventually, and Bridget laughed quietly.

‘He grows on you.’

‘Like mould,’ said Gwen. ‘Like one of those plants that strangles trees.’

Bridget turned her head to look at Gwen, her expression knowing. ‘Keep slandering him if it’ll make you feel better.’

‘It won’t,’ said Gwen. ‘Can we talk about something else, please?’

‘Like what?’

Gwen shrugged. ‘Anything.’

Bridget hummed thoughtfully. ‘I won again yesterday. At the lists. It’s as far as I’ve ever made it in a royal tourney. Only a few events left.’

‘You did?’ Gwen said, turning over on to her elbow so she could look at Bridget properly. ‘That’s – that’s wonderful. You should have told me.’

‘It didn’t seem important, considering.’

‘Well, it is. You’re incredible. Glory to House Leclair, honour upon your family name, et cetera, et cetera.’ Bridget laughed quietly up at the ceiling. ‘Has anybody else in your family ever competed?’

‘No,’ Bridget said. ‘My father would have, but he has aknee injury from a bad fall. And House Leclair has only been around for three generations, so there isn’t a particularly wide pool of applicants. My grandfather picked the name himself.’

‘Oh. Didn’t he want to use a Tai name?’

‘They don’t have family names in Sukhothai. I think he chose Leclair from a book.’

‘Which one?’

‘The Big Book of Vaguely French-Sounding Names,’ Bridget said seriously, making Gwen snort with laughter. ‘I do have a Tai nickname, but it meansfrog, so I’d rather it didn’t catch on at court.’

‘Frog?’

Bridget gave her a hard look and refused to elaborate. ‘Sir Marlin was knocked out yesterday too, so it was an excellent day all round.’

‘Good,’ said Gwen, thinking of the Knife having to leave Camelot in disgrace and finding that it instantly lifted her spirits. ‘Bridget, if you won the tournament, would that be it, for you? Would you feel like you’d done it?’

‘What do you mean?’ Bridget said. Without her seeming conscious of it, one of her hands had found the end of Gwen’s braid, and was very slowly pulling it loose.

‘I mean …’ Gwen said, slightly losing track of her train of thought as Bridget’s fingers tugged gently at her hair. ‘I mean, would you stop touring the tourneys all year? Find … something else to do? It can’t be easy, the way people treat you because you’re a woman. I imagine it must get quite wearing.’

‘No,’ Bridget said, her fingers briefly stilling. ‘No, I don’tthink I’d stop. I enjoy it. It’s a lot of hard work for very little glory, but you can find joy even in the worst and the most mundane parts of it, if you approach them with the right attitude and surround yourself with good people. Besides, I know I’m not the best I can be, yet. I’d like to get there.’

There was a brief silence while Gwen pondered this. She was trying to gather the courage to say something, and felt her heart start to beat very rapidly, a rush of blood in her ears, as she opened her mouth to do it.

‘What’s going to happen when summer is over?’

Bridget had finished unpicking one braid, and moved on to a second. ‘I imagine we’ll throw conkers at Sidney’s head.’

‘I’m serious.’