The Lady Knight

"Jules, it has been a month since you brought me here," Richard whined, crossing his arms, "when will I be able to go home?"

"For the Lord's sake, please ask him to keep quiet, Jules!" Jackie sighed loudly from the kitchen, more amused than angry, "he talks of nothing but Bordeux all day, and I have tired of him."

I continued to stare at my hands, too deep in my thoughts to notice them.

"Jules?" I felt someone shake my shoulders, "Jules."

I jerked, startled. I glanced up to find Richard sitting beside me, his forehead creased in concern. "I apologise, Richard, what were you saying?"

He stared at me, disturbed. "Something is bothering you," he observed, "you have been very distracted since you stepped into this house four hours ago. What is the matter?"

I gazed back at him, not failing to notice how very much his huge, grey eyes were like Nick's in his concern for me. How very much he looked like him, and yet in so many ways, he did not. Almost at once, Elle's soft, yet significant words from a month ago returned to the forefront of my mind.

I am afraid you need to have your heart checked, dear friend, for I have a feeling it no longer belongs to you.

One month. It had been one, whole month and yet, I had not been able to forget them, digest them, or accept them.

Try as hard as I might, I simply could not shove this to the back of my mind and forget about it. It was always there in my thoughts, hovering in the background, stubbornly insisting for an answer.

Truth be told, I already had my hands full at the moment - working on the murder case, making sure Nick was safe, secretly visiting Limoges once every week to ensure Richard was safe, all the while on alert for all threats from Diego from the Order of the Serpents - and I absolutely did not need this to make my life more complicated than it already was.

In addition to Elle's words, I simply could not rid my mind of him, and the overwhelming emotions that had washed over me by his mere touch that day, when he had been almost about to kiss me.

It was beyond maddening. It had been one month. Thirty-one days. Seven hundred and forty-four hours. Yet, the memory of that day was still so fresh. Those emotions...they were still so raw. As if it was simply a minute ago that it happened.

I felt stupid for being incapable of sorting through my feelings. Most importantly, I felt horrible for being so distracted at a time when I was supposed to be on my highest alert.

"Nothing," I sighed heavily, shooting him a faint smile, "I simply grew lost in my thoughts for a while, that is all. Nothing to worry about."

Richard shrugged, satisfied with my explanation, leaning back against his seat. Jackie walked in from the kitchen at that moment, holding aloft a tray of what looked like coffee for Richard, and tea for me.

"Clearly, she is lying," she chuckled, as she handed Richard his coffee, "come now, Jules. What happened?"

They both looked at me with curiosity, as I fiddled with my thumbs in discomfort. This was not something that I could share with them so openly, especially when even I was not certain what I was thinking myself.

"I....fought with Nick."

"That is nothing new," Richard chuckled in amusement, relief plain on his face, "truly, I thought it was something serious."

I did not smile, and neither did Jackie.

"About what?" she asked me gently.

I fidgeted for a moment more. I was telling the truth when I told them that I had fought with Nick before I had come to Limoges.

Over the last one month since the fire incident, I had been visiting Richard once every week in Limoges – all the while lying to Nick that I was visiting Lisa in Louvre to help her with her upcoming engagement preparations.

My Captains knew what was going on, but they too, grimaced every time the lie left my lips.

He did not believe me. Every week, in whatever duchy we were in, we would argue terribly each time I left for Limoges. He would keep asking me questions about these weekly trips – questions that I could never answer honestly - and each time I lied, it only made him more frustrated, for he was beyond afraid that the repeat of the fire incident would occur, afraid that I would forget to care for myself in my work.

I hated it each time I had to lie to him, I hated it each time I had to see the fear in his eyes when I said I was leaving – fear for me. And that fuelled my own bad mood. Most of these arguments only ended in me storming out of the chamber, and riding off to Limoges straight after.

Whenever I returned from Limoges, his relief at seeing me unharmed again would override his anger at my departure, and he would be as amiable with me as he had been before the Limoges trip. However, the very next week, I would have to go to Limoges once more, and the argument would begin all over again.

"I had to lie..." I stammered quietly, "about coming here every week. I do not know how he knows I am lying, but he does. And he is not very happy about it."

"You are terrible at lying, Jules," Richard pointed out, "it is not surprising that my dear brother has found out."

"Keep quiet, Richard. The poor girl is already upset," Jackie glared at him, before she patted my knee, "worry not, Jules. He will have calmed down by the time you return."

I shook my head, but said nothing. I knew he would eventually calm down, but the fact that I was upsetting him every week still remained, and that bothered me to no end.

They would never understand that, not when I did not understand myself.

Richard peered at me queerly. "But why are you so upset in the first place, Jules?" he frowned at me, "does this not happen almost every day? We are speaking of Brother-mine. You both always fight. As I said before, it is nothing new."

Again, I chose silence.

Jackie stared at her folded hands for a long while, and when she spoke next, it was a whisper. "If it truly inconveniences you, Jules, then you need not lie to Nick. You need not come to Limoges every week," she ventured uneasily, "I am well able to protect and take care of Richard – "

I sat up straight, alarmed. "Nay, I come here by my own will," I assured her gently, "it has been ten years, and nothing and no one is safe anymore, Jackie. Come what may, I need to return him to Bordeux with a beating heart as soon as possible." A shadow crossed my face.

Richard leaned back against his seat, beaming in satisfaction. "Wonderful. When am I going home again?"

***

I put my hands on my hips and surveyed the room.

"All right, Captains, Nick," I clapped my hands to get their attention, snapping Captain Everard and Nick out of whatever they had been arguing about.

Once all their eyes were on me, I spoke again.

"I am aware that the rest of you and I usually rent separate rooms in an inn," I began uncomfortably, "unfortunately, all the other rooms here are occupied due to the upcoming Christmas season, and the hostess was able to spare us only one on short notice. Therefore, I am afraid we all have to share this room." I flushed bright red.

The arrangement was very much inappropriate, but I knew it was either sharing a room with the men and live, or sleeping outside in the blizzard and die. Naturally, I had chosen the former option. Unlike the Ladies of the Society, I valued my life more than my reputation.

The rest of them merely chuckled at my highly discomforted expression. Only Nick seemed as uncomfortable as I was, and shot me a sympathetic smile.

"So, the left side of the room will be yours, and the right side of the room will be mine," I declared, "and we will all take turns to take a short bath in the bathing chamber. Each person is allotted no more than ten minutes for this task. Am I clear?"

"Yes, Ma'am!" the Captains saluted, still grinning at me in amusement.

"Am I entitled to a longer duration since I am a Crown Prince?" Nick teased.

I rolled my eyes dryly. "Ten minutes. For everyone - Captain, Commander General, or Crown Prince," I emphasized, "after that, all of you are free to do what you will outside the inn. However, curfew is at 22 00 hours sharp. Now, you may decide amongst yourselves who gets to bathe first. I am willing to go last."

There was an unnatural beat of silence at that moment, before the whole lot of them dashed towards the bathing chamber, clutching their sacks. They pushed, they elbowed, and they jostled each other like a bunch of womenfolk bargaining for vegetables in the market, trying to barge into the chamber all at once.

I snickered, shaking my head. Men. They could be such children sometimes.

Eventually, Captain Everard won. He almost broke the bathroom door in trying to push his way into it, but he succeeded, and slammed the door shut behind him. A collective sigh of disappointment rose among the rest, before they proceeded to scatter themselves around the room to wait their turn.

I curled up in a corner to await mine, and fished one of my favourite novels out of my sack – A Race Against Time. I began to lose myself in a mystery filled with murders, twists and betrayals.

It was strange how I seem to enjoy reading about other fictional betrayals when I was dealing with one of my own in real life. So immersed was I in the text, that I forgot all sense of time and place. I was transported to another world, where none of my present problems plagued me.

"Julie?" a deep voice called me back to the real world after a long time, "it is your turn."

I ignored it, eager to reach the climax of the novel.

"Julie, it is almost dinner time. Put down that book and go and bathe."

I made a shooing gesture with my hand, not bothering to look up.

"Julie - "

"Silence, Nick!" I muttered, shutting out his voice, "five more minutes - "

"Julie, I swear to the Lord, if you do not put down that book this instant, I will take an extra thirty minutes in the bathing chamber like I wished earlier, and I will ensure that you will have no more time to bathe," the same voice threatened, chuckling.

"Why would you want an extra thirty minutes?" I scowled, frantically reading the last few words of the page, "this is so unfair, Nick - "

"I do not care. Now put that book down before I go back inside."

"Oh, all right," I slammed the book shut, annoyed, and glanced up, fully intending to yell at him, when my protest died on my lips.

He had turned away from me then towards his own sack to rummage for something upon hearing my assent, rubbing a towel against his wet hair, but all I could notice was one thing.

Damn, he was not wearing a shirt.

My eyes were inexplicitly drawn to his exponentially broad shoulders, to the droplets of water gleaming with the candlelight on his lean back, and to the way the muscles on his arms flexed subtly as he threw the towel on his head to one side of the room. I watched, frozen, as he ran a hand through his wet locks of hair to dishevel it by habit.

It was rude, and absolutely inappropriate, but I truly could not keep my eyes away from him.

I was being ridiculous. I had seen, trained under and myself trained so many Cadets, Corporals, and Captains when they were shirtless. I had even fought physical combats with them in such a state of attire, and I had come to consider it as something normal, although the Ladies of the Society may beg to differ.

It had not bothered me at all back then, so why should it now?

Enough. It was time to bathe. With that determined thought, I clutched my small pouch of necessities and strode towards the bathroom.

"Julie? I cannot seem to find my razor blade," Nick spoke up just then, sounding frustrated, "and I need to shave. Did you or the other Captains take it by accident?"

I paused at the bathroom door without turning around and cleared my throat. How about you find your shirt first before looking for a damn blade? I wanted to snap, but thought the better of it.

"Search among your belongings first, and if the Captains come back before I finish bathing, ask them to help you search as well. If you still cannot find it, then I will lend you one of my daggers," my voice still came out as a whisper.

Before he could come up with a retort to that, I swiftly shut myself up in the bathroom.

What in the world was wrong with me?

I made sure to use the full ten minutes to bathe, to put off the moment I had to get out of the bathroom and face him again. However, he may have donned on a shirt by then, and I would not have to feel so discomfited. Although, to be frank, I simply could not understand why I was so perturbed in the first place.

"Julie?" someone banged on the bathroom door just then, "your ten minutes are up!"

"How very punctual of you, Nick," I muttered, deftly dressing before I wrung out my dripping wet hair.

"Well, none of the others have returned from dinner downstairs, and I have yet to find my blade. You have to lend me your dagger," I heard him retort, "besides, it is ten minutes for everyone - Captain, Commander General, or Crown Prince, is it not?" I could almost imagine him smiling smugly as he repeated my own words to me.

"Now you choose to have a good memory," I grumbled, as I stuffed my belongings in my pouch again, and threw open the bathroom door to step outside, "why is a blade so necessary now - " I stopped, shocked.

He was leaning against the wall beside the door, still shirtless.

"Damn," I swore without thinking and averted my eyes from him at once.

I brushed past him, and stormed towards the other end of the room, more annoyed with myself than with him.

"What is wrong now?" I heard him query in bewilderment, as his footsteps approached from behind.

"Nothing," I muttered, rummaging through my sack for a dagger as I felt heat rush to my cheeks in a pool of red, firmly concentrating on the task before me.

Find the dagger, find the dagger, find the dagger -

"Julie, I have lived long enough with Sister-mine to know when a woman says nothing, it is always followed by something," he commented dryly, "come now, Julie, what is the matter?"

"I said nothing," I glared down at my bag, resolutely keeping my eyes away from him.

"Indeed?" I heard him drawl, suddenly hearing his baritone right in my ear, "then why are you unable to even look at me?" I could feel his breath tickle the loose tendrils of my hair which rested on my neck.

I felt my breathing quicken, but I remained stubbornly silent.

"Am I making you uncomfortable, Julie?" Was it merely my imagination, or did I hear a teasing smirk in his voice?

"Nay," I muttered, scowling.

His entire body shook, as a deep laugh erupted from within him. "Look at me and say that again."

Pride won over embarrassment as I glared up at him, and held his gaze defiantly. "Nay, I am not uncomfortable," I huffed, sounding too uncertain to be convincing.

This was becoming rather infuriating. How I wanted to wipe that self-satisfied smirk off his face with a particularly sharp dagger!

However, it vanished on its own at that moment, replaced by a much softer smile. "Your blush says otherwise."

I turned and stared hard at the sack, rummaging more viciously through it than before. "Do you want a blade or not?" I demanded, "what does it matter if I am uncomfortable or – shit." I hissed, as my hand accidentally closed over what felt like a particularly sharp, vengeful blade.

I pulled my hand out of the sack on reflex, frowning. A new, deep gash sat in the middle of my palm, bright red over the faded scars of last month. I sucked in a sharp breath, as the stinging pain settled in.

"What happened?" Nick became serious at once and moved in front of me, tensing up, "give me your hand."

"It is merely a small cut - " I tried to explain, but he was hearing none of it.

He caught my wrist before I could pull it away from view, and held it up in horror, clearly nonplussed at the amount of blood that was gushing out of my hand.

"By the Lord, you should have been more careful. Stay still. I will return in a second," he commanded, before he darted swiftly towards his sack, and whipped out some clean, white linen and a couple of glass jars filled with what looked like creams of all colours.

I squinted at the jars, concentrating hard on identifying those herbal creams he was holding so that I could forget the insistent pain. In the meanwhile, he strode back to my side, setting down the jars and the linen beside him on the table.

"What are you doing?" I frowned, confused, "Nick, I am fine - "

He reached for a linen, and gently cleaned off the blood. "Fine?" he raised an eyebrow, taking my injured hand in his, "Julie, you are not fine, and neither is this nothing."

Good God, it was only a tiny injury from a dagger. He was making such a fuss about nothing.

"Truly, Nick," I attempted to argue again, "it is merely a small cut and there is no need for these creams - the Lord knows they cost a fortune at the apothecaries - "

"This is absolutely not a small cut, and you do need the creams to prevent it from festering," he rolled his eyes, "so hush, Julie."

"But - " he cut me a surprisingly wicked look at that moment, and I promptly fell silent.

His dark head bent over my hand, very much focused on treating the gash. I gritted my teeth and tried to keep a straight face when he applied the creams on my hand - they caused the gash to burn with a painful intensity - but I knew I slipped up a couple of times. He flinched every time I did, muttering a string of apologies in both French and English under his breath.

We both heaved a sigh of relief when he finished tying the linen around my hand, making sure it was bound tight. "There, all done," he murmured, handling my hand gently, "are you all right now?" Anxiety still clearly rang through his voice, as his troubled grey eyes raised to meet my gaze.

I was touched. "I am fine. You, on the other hand, worry too much these days," I answered softly, "it is not good for you."

He sighed, squaring his shoulders. "I cannot seem to help it, when it comes to you," he shrugged, "you truly are a magnet for injury. Ever heard of the word caution?"

"I might have..." I teased, pretending to think.

The corner of his lips quirked in a wry smile. "Minx."

I chuckled in amusement, shaking my head while he continued to stare at me for a long while, not saying another word. His gaze was very much troubled still, despite the smile on his lips.

"What?" my forehead creased in concern.

For an answer, he hesitated for a moment, before he reached out a slightly trembling hand to gently trace the curve of my cheek, slowly, lingeringly.

Right along the faded burns.

"I am serious. You seem to like to court troubles of all sorts, big and small," he whispered, "take care of yourself. Please." With that, he offered me a grimace and turned towards my sack to search for the dagger himself.

I had a feeling he was no longer talking about the cut.

***

"When will we reach Roche, Julie?"

Nick's deep voice broke the tranquillity of the early morning, as we rode along the empty bridge that connected the duchy of Roche, an island, to mainland Monrique.

My grip on Aurora's reins tightened. "Ten minutes."

He nodded with a smile, turning away, and I repressed the urge to strike out at him in my frustration.

Ignorance was truly bliss. I wished my mind had blocked out the memories of Roche like his had.

Dread was slowly building up in me. While Nick would be experiencing boundless joy there upon meeting Tess there once more, I would be reliving all of my nightmares all alone.

Every, last one of them.

All in all, it was a very bad morning for me.

"Ma'am, how many duchies are there left for us to travel to?" Captain Morrison questioned me just then, eager.

"Four more, including Roche, Captain Morrison," I forced myself to smile, "is there a special reason for your query?"

He nodded, looking happier than he had all month. "I received a letter yesterday telling me that my wife has been delivered of a son, and I wish to go home as soon as possible."

All of us began to applaud with joy. "You have been keeping such glad tidings from us, lad!" Captain Dupont smiled reproachfully.

"We could have celebrated yesterday at dinner!" Captain Everard mourned, "it is just like you to keep silent about this."

"I should have known when you drank so much wine yesterday," Captain Percival grunted, shaking his head in amusement, "by the Lord, you never drink."

"Congratulations, Captain Morrison!" I clapped his back, "do send Henrietta my regards and congratulations the next time you write to her, will you not?"

Everyone offered him their words of happiness at the news, and Nick gave him an extra punch on his shoulder. "So when will we get to meet the little one?"

Captain Morrison beamed. "Henrietta and I have decided to hold the baby shower in spring next year, and of course all of you will be invited," he looked around at us, "and we would be more than honoured if you and your future wife could grace the event, Your Royal Highness."

Nick froze for a moment with a fleeting horror at the mention of his future wife, before he smiled faintly at Captain Morrison. "Of course I will. I will not miss it for the world."

This was a mark of how far their friendship had come, for I knew for a fact that Nick had once despised these very Captains.

Captain Morrison nodded his thanks, and he was pulled into another conversation with Captain Percival almost at once.

In the meanwhile, I turned to Nick. "Victoria has invited us all for her son's baby shower," I remarked quietly, "it is to be held on 8 December, when we will be in Anchorvale for the Potential Quest."

Nick glanced at me, shocked. "Victoria has been delivered too?" he was nonplussed, "when? Is she well?"

"Several weeks ago. And yes, she is well," I gave him a weak smile, "she says the boy has Lucien's eyes."

He grew solemn for a moment upon hearing Lucien's name, but a small, tender grin spread across his face soon after. "I would love to meet their son," he answered softly, "did you tell her we will be attending?"

I nodded. There had been no question about it in the first place.

Captain Everard caught up to the both of us at that moment on his stallion, grinning. "Have you ever been to Roche, Ma'am?"

"Aye," I answered quietly.

Of course I had been there before, and I had never wanted to go there again if I could help it in this lifetime. However, fate could be very cruel when it put its mind to it, and I had no idea what I had done to receive its wrath this way.

Captain Everard did not notice my reluctance to talk about Roche. "Me too, Ma'am. However, just this morning, His Royal Highness here claimed that he has never been there before."

I glanced at Nick, annoyed for the umpteenth time that morning. "Of course His Royal Highness has been to Roche," I snapped, "I had attended the Socials with him and Richard there several years ago."

Nick blinked in shock. "You willingly attended a Social?" he was intrigued, "and here I was, thinking that you avoided Balls of all sorts."

I shook my head at Captain Everard. "Leave it," I sighed, "he does not remember."

Captain Everard, however, was not giving up. "Not even Lady Therese, Sire?" he sounded disbelieving, "even I can remember how she always hung around you when we were younger, Your Royal Highness. And how she bullied Ma'am to tears on a regular basis like you used to."

Nick looked highly discomforted upon hearing Captain Everard's last words, much to my surprise. "Mayhap I will remember when we reach Roche..." he trailed off.

Silence fell once more, and I returned to my brooding, as we cantered into the bustling duchy of Roche.