Page 51 of My Faire Lady

It’s her.

“With a flourish and honor,” the herald cries, “ye knights prepare for the fray!”

The bugle sounds, and they charge. My fingernails carve half-moons into the wood, and as they crash together, Jeremy’s lance knocks Scarlet’s from her hand.

A jester hops across the field and scoops it up, handing it to her. The horses trot to their opposing sides, and the air fills with a buzz of electricity, not unlike the way a storm coils before lightning whips the ground.

“A mighty clash!” the herald yells. “And now, my gentles, the time is nigh for a final joust!”

Scarlet rolls out her neck. Screams deafen the arena, and I lean forward as the knights lower their lances. Lightning jumps through the clouds, and the rain dumps in a sheet. The hair on the back of my neck rises, the corset tight around my chest, nearly a second skin.

Boden blows the horn, and my stomach rises to my throat as Scarlet and Jeremy race toward each other. Hooves splash through puddles, and I swipe matted hair and rain out of my eyes.

My vision blurs, and a clash rings out.

Scarlet flies from her horse and slams into the mud.

Gasps comes from those around me, but I don’t make a noise. My mind can’t form a thought, my lungs unwilling to pull in air as I stare at Scarlet on the ground.

She’s not moving.

I don’t think. I sling a leg over the wooden rail. Someone calls my name, but I don’t turn back as I throw myself into the arena and my feet sink into the earth. The world blurs, nothing but grey and rain and the woman lying still on the ground. I race through the mud and dip under the center barricade to Scarlet.

Her horse whinnies, and I drop to the ground, the skirt of my dress soaking through with rainwater and mud and grass. I don’t care. My pulse roars in my ears, and my inhales come in harsh, shallow sips. I scan her chest, looking for movement, but even if she was breathing, I wouldn’t be able to tell under the armor.

“Lottie?” she says, muffled through the helmet. She eases to an elbow and lifts it from her head. “What the hell are you doing?”

I study her face. There aren’t any bruises peppering her jaw, and her inhales are perfectly normal. My stomach twists, and I spare a glance over my shoulder, where everyone in the crowd is leaning forward, eyes pinned on me.

“I, uh—” I turn back to Scarlet. “I thought you were hurt. You weren’t moving, and⁠—”

“My lady,” she whispers, lips curling into a smirk, “twas simply part of the performance.”

My eyes widen, and words dry to ash on my tongue.

“What’s this?” Boden yells from the throne.

My head swings in his direction, and while I don’t know Boden that well, I know a shit eating grin when I see one.

“Here we fucking go,” Scarlet murmurs, letting her helmet fall to the ground.

Boden’s eyes sparkle, and he waves a hand toward us. “It appears Princess Lottie’s heart has chosen another suitor!”

Gasps crest over the stands, and Jeremy pulls his helmet off, throwing it to the ground in mock anger. If I weren’t mortified, I’d laugh at the absurdity of it all. My knees sink deeper into the mud, and through the commotion, Scarlet’s hand finds mine.

“Lady Scarlet may have lost the joust,” Boden yells. “But she has won something far greater than victory—a young woman’s heart! Because what are battles for, if not love?”

“Where is he going with this?” I whisper out of the corner of my mouth.

Scarlet doesn’t respond. The color has drained from her face, and her eyes narrow into slits, shooting daggers at Boden.

“I’m going to kill him,” she says.

“What do ye say, gentles?” Boden continues, scanning the crowd. “Shall Lady Scarlet seal it with a kiss?”

My stomach somersaults. Whoops and hollers come from the crowd, and they pound on the wooden bleachers with fists and tankards, overwhelming the storm.

Slowly, I turn to Scarlet. Rainwater streams down the front of her armor, puddling beneath her. Her hair is slicked to her forehead, following the curve of her throat and twisting into the chainmail at her collarbones. I track a single raindrop as it trails down the bridge of her nose and onto the swell of her bottom lip.