On the road down to the castle, just at the point where the forest gave way to cleared land, Charlie reined up her horse. Griffin was several paces ahead before he realized she wasn’t coming. He turned back to see her hesitating uncertainly in the shadow of the trees.
“Well, come on then,” he said impatiently. “What are you waiting for? I told you my aunt will be pleased to have you, and we’ll be better off for a hot meal or two. Or is this just you trying to part ways with me again? I told you I won’t follow you anymore. I’ll only be able to stay a few days, and you can go wherever you want all on your lonesome. Knight’s honor.”
“It’s not that,” Charlie said quietly.
“What then?” he demanded with an anxious look over his shoulder as if thinking the soft beds and good food might vanish if he didn’t reach them in time.
“Griffin, I haven’t slept inside in months.”
“So?” Much to his horse’s annoyance, he started flicking the ends of his reins back and forth while he watched her.
“So, how will it be to go back out into the woods and sleep on the ground and eat dried food again after all of these hot meals and warm baths you keep promising?” Charlie wanted to know. “That’s going to feel horrible.”
Griffin stopped flicking his reins and observed her seriously for a long moment. “Charlie, you really don’t have to leave if you don’t want to. She’d keep you forever. You’ll understand when you meet her. No one is going to kick you back out into the cold.”
“I do have to leave, Griffin,” she said impatiently. “I don’t live here.”
“Then you’ll leave,” he said simply. “If whatever is driving you keeps you running all the way across the damn country by yourself, I’m sure it can help you resist the lure of easy living. I have a feeling that the mad resolution I’ve been watching for the last few weeks isn’t going to be quenched by a few nights indoors. And as far as changing from the soft bed to the hard ground,” he added, “you just do it. I do it all the time as a knight. The first few nights are rough, and you grumble, but you get used to it again. Now. Can we please go?”
“You could just go without me,” Charlie said sulkily.
“I won’t though, even if I have to drag you. And I’m hungry, so I won’t be nice about it,” he warned.
“I’m coming,” she sighed, nudging Mystic forward again.
The guards on the wall swiveled to watch them approach. Griffin had uncovered his shield, and as soon as they reached the entrance, the heavy iron gates cranked open to admit them. Griffin entered with the nonchalance of familiarity while Charlie found herself curiously short of breath. She looked around while she tried to calm herself. The castle was built around three sides of a square with a wall completing the fourth side and enclosing the vast courtyard. Up close, she could now make out the insignia on the snapping banners, a gray hawk on a green field. People were approaching them now, and she pulled her attention back toward them.
Griffin had dismounted, and he tossed his reins to a waiting hostler as he strode quickly to greet the elderly woman and the brown-haired young man that were approaching him. As he bowed and hugged his relations, Charlie dismounted and stood twisting her reins around her hands. To her dismay, Griffin was escorting the woman toward her, intent on introducing them.
“Your Grace, this is Charlie,” Griffin said, introducing her to the older woman. “I’d tell you her surname, but she won’t tell me. Charlie, this is my aunt, Duchess Taka of Hawk’s Rest and my cousin, Sir Michael.” Michael looked to be a few years older than Griffin, and he nodded to her pleasantly.
Charlie immediately and without thinking curtsied as one would to a duchess, forgetting that she must look ridiculous doing so wearing breeches. The woman was looking at her intently, but she was smiling.
Griffin shot her a funny look but rattled on. “Charlie and I have been traveling together for the last few weeks. We were both going the same way, and we fell in together for safety.” He was really staring at Charlie now, clearly expecting her to argue. She was silent, and after a moment he continued. “Of course, you can see it hasn’t done much good—we met up with some bandits a few days ago. We were lucky to escape.”
The duchess left off her examination of Charlie to look at Griffin now. “Bandits? Have they been dealt with, or should we send out a patrol?”
“No need,” Griffin said. “It’s taken care of.”
“Now then,” Taka said warmly. “Baths and food, I suppose? Michael run inside and have some rooms prepared. Charlie, dear, let the hostler have your horse.”
Charlie tore her gaze away from Michael, who was ambling unhurriedly toward the castle to see the stableman holding out his expectant hand. She twisted her hand tighter in the reins until Mystic jerked her head.
Griffin jumped forward and began untangling her hand. “Let go,” he hissed. “What is wrong with you?” He pried the reins from her grip and handed her horse over to the stableman. Ignoring Charlie’s glare, he gave her a little push toward to the castle. “Go,” he muttered under his breath. “It’s not a prison.”
The duchess had politely pretended not to hear Griffin’s threatening tone or notice Charlie’s frozen behavior. She fell into step beside Charlie, leaning on a gold-capped walking stick as she went. She was a short woman with iron gray hair that was swept into an attractive knot. Happy lines formed around her eyes when she smiled. Griffin hovered slightly behind them as if concerned he might have to give Charlie another push or stop her from fleeing.
“Charlie is such a boyish name for a pretty girl,” the duchess said, “but I can see right away that it suits you. I can also see you must be a student of the fencing arts.” She indicated the sword hanging from Charlie’s belt.
“Yes, Your Grace, my father taught me.”
“She holds her own with it too,” Griffin told his aunt. “Perhaps she’ll demonstrate for you tomorrow.”
Duchess Taka smiled. “I certainly hope so. I love a girl who doesn’t believe any of those people who tell her she can’t keep up with the boys. Wherever did you find her, Griffin? Ah, here we are.” They walked through the arched doorway into the cool shade of a great hall where several servants waited. “Allyson will take you to your room and bring you anything you need,” Taka said, gesturing to a curtsying maid. “I’ll see you at dinner, dear.”
“Thank you, Your Grace,” Charlie said, following the maid up the stairs. When she looked back, Griffin and his aunt were in close conversation at the foot of the stairs. She shivered and continued grimly after Allyson.
The room she was led to was spacious and airy, the windows left open to let in the cool evening breeze. A large canopied bed stood in the center of the room. The blue curtains matched the bed canopy and the soft, thick rugs on the floor. There was a small table with a chair and a large chest at the foot of the bed. A low fire had been lit in the fireplace, and a large bathtub had been placed before it with a screen positioned nearby.
“Water for your bath will be here soon, my lady,” Allyson said. “Would your prefer warm or cool?”
“Warm,” Charlie said softly, wandering around the room.
“Supper is a bit away, so I’ll have a tray sent up so you can have a bite to eat after your bath,” the maid continued, her eyes tracking Charlie’s movements as she stood by the door. “And then you should have time for a little nap before you have to get dressed.”
“All right,” Charlie said vaguely and finally sat down in a chair because she could tell that Allyson was unnerved by her pacing. When the maid had gone, she sprang up again and went to the window to determine which part of the castle she was in. She stood there quietly while the tub was filled, and Allyson settled a large stack of towels and bath supplies onto a footstool.
“There you are, my lady,” she said as she pulled the screen around the tub. “I’ll have a little snack ready for you to eat when you get out.”
“My clothes haven’t been brought up yet,” Charlie said. “I hav
en’t anything to put on.”
“It would do you no good to take a bath and put your dirty clothes back on,” Allyson replied with the attitude of a woman not used to being questioned. “Here’s a nightgown for you to wear now, and I’ll bring you something to wear to the evening meal. Have yourself a little nap, my lady, I’ll wake you when it’s time to dress,” she called over her shoulder as she left.
Feeling surprisingly vulnerable, even behind the screen, Charlie undressed and slipped into the bathtub. But after a few minutes in the hot water, she relaxed. When she had finally washed off what felt like months’ worth of trail dirt and the water was cold, she reluctantly climbed out of the tub, dried herself with a soft, clean towel, and pulled the white linen nightdress over her head. She combed her wet hair and took the plate of cheese and apple slices Allyson had left for her to the bed to eat. When she finished, she put the plate aside and took stock for a moment. She looked at her clean, pruney hands and her clean, bare feet; at the white gown she wore; and at the large, airy room she was in. She had expected to feel uncomfortable and out of place, but whatever anxieties she had felt had washed away with the dirt. Now she just felt clean and happy and sleepy. Charlie snuggled her way into the bed without a thought to the hard ground she had slept on the night before and fell quickly asleep.
When she woke, it wasn’t Allyson standing over her, but Griffin. For a long moment Charlie couldn’t remember where she was. She watched Griffin idly without getting up. “What?”
“That secret map of yours wasn’t in any of your bags,” he said conversationally.
“Don’t be stupid,” Charlie replied. “You know I keep it on me so you don’t find it. I know you snoop.” She closed her eyes and tried to go back to sleep.
“So…is it on you right now?”
She opened her eyes again and looked at him properly. He was well-scrubbed and dressed in a blue tunic and brown breeches that she guessed were probably Michael’s. He had had his hair cut too, so that it barely curled again. “Of course not. I hid it. You look clean.”
“So do you. You forget how nice it is, don’t you? Where did you hide it?”
Charlie sat up. “It wouldn’t be hidden if I told you. Go away. I’m not dressed.”
A sniff of disapproval alerted her to Allyson’s presence in the room. The maid was standing by the door and glaring at Griffin in such a way that Charlie knew she had already protested Griffin’s presence before he had even woken her but couldn’t make him leave. Griffin gave the maid an insolent look and didn’t move.
Charlie ignored the stand-off and looked around. The bathtub and the plate had both vanished while she slept, and the screen had been returned to a corner. Her saddlebags were resting on the table, though they seemed rather empty, and her boots stood clean and polished at the foot of the bed. The fact that people had been in and out of the room several times while she slept alarmed her. She hadn’t heard a thing. “How hard was I sleeping?” she muttered to herself.
“Pretty hard,” Griffin said. “It took me a while to wake you up.”
“Sir Griffin, I need to get my lady dressed for supper,” Allyson said with exaggerated politeness. “Perhaps you could leave.”
“Perhaps.” He fixed her with a level stare and sat on Charlie’s bed.
Charlie pulled her knees up so Griffin wouldn’t be on her legs. “So you’re one of those people, are you?”
“One of what?” he asked boredly, picking at a loose string on the blanket.
“One of those people who’s rude to the servants.”
Griffin looked up at that. “No,” he said after a moment, “I’m uniformly rude to everyone. See you at supper.” With that he sauntered from the room without a backward glance.
Allyson still seemed somewhat ruffled by Griffin, but her businesslike attitude took over. “I can’t believed that boy,” she complained. “Coming in here while you weren’t dressed like that.” She had an armful of fabric that she now heaved onto the chair next to the bed.
“I think he was just making sure I was able to sleep,” Charlie demurred, looking at the pile. “Neither of us has been able to much the last few days.”
“Well then.” Allyson’s expression softened for a moment, then she was crisp and busy again. “All of your clothes are being washed, but we found some things that might fit you,” she told Charlie as she pulled a few garments from the heap. “A few dresses, and if you don’t want to wear a dress, one or two of these tunic outfits.” She began to arrange the outfits on the bed while Charlie dragged herself out of bed and sluggishly settled herself before the vanity mirror.
While Allyson rattled on, Charlie examined herself in the glass, trying to smooth her hair down. She looked sleepy and puffy, and she still had a black eye, somewhat faded now. Her face and hands were red from the sun, and her palms were calloused and rough. She looked thin and tough from outdoor living, not the soft, alabaster-skinned doll she had once been. With her hair mussed from sleep, she looked positively wild.
“What’s wrong?” Allyson asked when Charlie failed to answer her question about clothing.
“I used to be pretty,” Charlie said glumly to her reflection.
Allyson actually snorted. “You still are. You just need some polishing. Let’s get you dressed and combed, my lady. Pick an outfit.”
Charlie surveyed the selection of dresses that had been laid out for her in a sea of light fabrics, ribbon, and lace. The idea of wearing a dress again was about as uncomfortable and foreign as the idea of coming into the castle to live like a civilized person again instead of a muddy traveler, but she had adjusted to the clean hair and soft bed so easily that she was afraid to settle in anymore. There was another outfit on the other side of the bed that she had mistaken for a dress at first, but which turned out to be a long tunic and loose breeches. She walked around to look at it.
“You would pick that one,” Allyson sighed as Charlie held the dove gray tunic against her body to check the fit.
“What is it?” Charlie asked, taking the tunic to the mirror to see it better.
“Something the duchess used to wear to shoot things when she was younger,” the maid sighed. “She’s like you—liked to dress as a boy and ride around everywhere. Well, it’s modest enough, I suppose. Let’s put it on you.”
“I can dress myself,” Charlie said politely and took the clothes behind the screen to put them on. The soft material was generously cut and fit surprisingly well for clothes made for someone else. After she had dressed, she sat while Allyson tamed her hair into a smart style secured with silver combs and made her put lotion on her neck and arms. She brought Charlie her boots, then stood back to examine her work.
“What is a young lady like you doing riding around dressed as a boy?” she wanted to know.
“Sometimes even young ladies have things they have to do. Is it time to go down?”
“Yes,” Allyson said. “I’ll show you to the dining hall.”
* * *
Dinner conversation that night naturally centered around Charlie and Griffin’s most recent adventure. Griffin recounted a brief and highly edited version of the events, with Charlie adding details only when questioned. She didn’t know how he intended to frame what had happened to conceal the magic he had used to save their lives, so she just let him talk while she concentrated on the huge portions of delicious food that were repeatedly placed in front of her. Duchess Taka and Michael were both clearly enraptured and interjected with exclamations and questions frequently. Though she wanted no part in the discussion, she was grateful they had something exciting to focus on because she was certain otherwise the topic of choice would have been her.
Finally Griffin ended the conversation by pointing out that Charlie probably didn’t want to relive the events of the last few days by hearing them talked about and that perhaps they should change the subject.
“Hmm?” Charlie said distractedly, having heard her name.
“I said, if talking about this is
distressing to you, we could talk about something else.” He shot her a look indicating that she should confirm this so he could stop talking.
“Oh, I wasn’t listening. I don’t want to think about it anymore,” she added when he glared. “I’ll have nightmares.” Thinking that was probably good enough, she went back to eating. It took a few moments before she realized that he was staring at her in brooding silence. “What?” she demanded, irritated.
“Is this usually how you eat?” he inquired with a uncharacteristic lack of rudeness.
Charlie had been eating steadily but with perfect decorum throughout the meal. She fixed Griffin with her chilliest look. “I’m sure I don’t know what you mean.”
“You’ve eaten three times what I’ve ever seen you eat before,” he continued, perfectly serious. “I’m suddenly very concerned that you weren’t getting fed properly this whole trip, if this how much you usually eat.”
She sighed. “I ate just fine, Griffin. I’m eating now because I’m hungry now and the food is good. Anything else?”
“So you were not hungry or not getting enough to eat on the road?” he queried suspiciously.
“Griffin, if I were hungry, you would have heard about it, I assure you,” Charlie said firmly. “Now pay attention to your own plate and stay out of mine.”
Griffin scowled, but his aunt laughed. “Your concern is admirable, Griffin, but you do have a tendency to occupy yourself with the business of others. Why don’t you tell us the news from home? How is your mother?”
Reluctantly, Griffin let the conversation turn to mundane things, but he couldn’t resist one more snide comment when the desert was served. “Better give Charlie two slices,” he told the servant. “She’s very hungry.”
Charlie accepted both slices of pie from the rather sheepish servant and ate them both without a word.
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