Page 23 of To Love

“Welcome to Castle Blackwood,” she said, wondering why he chose to come to her now.

“Thank you, my child. Apologies for interrupting your instruction, but Sir Eamon thought it best I address each group of young men during their training today.”

She waved a hand, indicating he should step inside.

“They are yours, Father,” she said as he stepped forward.

“Young men, Guardians of the Sacred Oak.” His voice was surprisingly strong. “I am Father Percival and have taken up residence at Blackwood’s chapel. I would expect you to continue attending mass each morning, in addition to Saturn’s Day, and welcome you to confessions at your earliest convenience.”

A murmur of “Welcome, Father” and “Aye, Father” greeted his words.

He nodded, apparently pleased, and gave Elara a quick nod. “I am to go next to the training yard. Good day, my lady. And pardon again my interruption.”

“Good day, Father.”

Striding back to her stool, Elara did not glance at Alden as she passed, even though she wished to. Neither did she look at him as she resumed her lesson.

“So then, know thy enemy?”

“Is a call for vigilance,” Sir Aldric Langley called out.

Sir Aldric. Could a man whose father had very publicly declared for Matilda possibly be their traitor?

“Indeed,” she said, “but more than that too.”

Sir Aldric shrugged his shoulders.

Elara looked around the room. Her gaze rested . . . on him.

Alden’s lips parted slightly, as if his thoughts were similar to her own. She’d dreamed of kissing him again and woke alone, disappointed, in her bed. Having him alone in her bedchamber had not snuffed the fire between them, but instead stoked it.

Elara should not have chosen him. But she had, and was now forced to face the consequences of her actions.

“By studying our enemies,” Alden said, not breaking eye contact with her, “we can predict their movements, exploit their weaknesses, and turn the tides in our favor.”

And he was intelligent. Alden would make a fine knight, and she suddenly hoped, very much, he attained such a goal.

“You are correct,” she said, her gaze moving on and sweeping the chamber. “This ancient adage is not just a call for vigilance but a comprehensive approach to understanding every facet of those who oppose us. Consider the Battle of Hastings. William the Conqueror did not triumph by sheer force alone. He meticulously studied King Harold’s strategies, waited for the right moment when Harold’s troops were weary from prior engagements, and then struck with calculated precision. This is the power of knowledge and foresight.”

She avoided him for the remainder of the lesson.

Focusing on the recruits’ answers, she now chose the topics as a way to delve deeper into the minds of those before her, and Elara reminded herself of the stakes if the traitor was not uncovered.

When the lesson was over, she resisted the urge to ask him to stay. Elara did allow herself a final glance as Alden disappeared through the open chamber door.

But he didn’t go before looking at her one last time.

Taking a deep breath, she attempted to redirect her mind back to the task at hand. With no additional lessons until after the midday meal, she planned to speak to the steward to ensure there were no more inventories to audit and devise a plan to more closely monitor communications.

Her feet, however, did not seem as willing to move as her mind. Instead, she sat on the stool, staring out into the corridor where Alden had disappeared, imagining him coming to her chamber that eve. One thought led to another until finally Elara shook her head, cleared her mind, and stood, banishing thoughts of a handsome blacksmith’s son from mind.

She’d been waiting for the knock all day.

From the moment Elara woke with visions of Alden still on her mind, to the lesson, to her coming upon him and Gareth, laughing, in the great hall earlier, she’d anticipated this. Unfortunately, she had naught to report. It would be a short meeting.

“Good eve,” she said, opening the small door. Alden ducked through it.

“And to you,” he said as Elara fetched them both a goblet of wine. It was customary, and she’d entertained many people in her antechamber before, both here at Blackwood and at court. But it had never felt as intimate as this, likely because Elara had never had such thoughts about her companion. She’d desired men, even kissed a few of them.