Judd followed the servant that arrived to inform him that he was due at supper. He wished the others had been invited as well. It seemed that only he was welcome at Donimede’s table and Judd hoped he would be able to hold his own. In the past, when in doubt, he’d deferred to Giordi’s wit and charm or extoled Verne’s archery skill as a means of smoothing over awkward pauses in conversation.

  Now, however, it would be himself, Donimede and…

  Judd frowned. Would his wife be present?

  Was he married?

  Judd couldn’t recall. All the facts and information he had memorised about the knights back in Astaril had become blurry out in the real world.

  Perhaps that was for the best.

  The servant opened the door to the dining room where Sir Donimede was waiting for him with a young woman by his side with hazel eyes and rich red hair. Unlike Caste’s, that looked like it was on fire when sunbeams touched it just right, the young woman’s hair was such a deep shade of red, it reminded Judd of dried blood. It was neatly braided and arranged on her head, her dark blue gown edged with gold embroidery.

  There were others in the dining room with Cantor Donimede but Judd made sure to approach the knight first, bowing low.

  “Sir Donimede,” he greeted, standing upright and shifting into the casual but alert pose he’d been instructed to maintain, “I hope I am not tardy attending your table.”

  “You’re right on time, LaMogre,” Donimede waved to the young woman, “this is my daughter, Willower Donimede.”

  “My lady,” Judd nodded, “Sir Donimede, may I kiss your daughter’s hand?”

  “By all means.”

  Willower smiled coyly at Judd and held out her hand, a lace fringing the cuff keeping him from making contact with her skin. He let go and returned to his upright position.

  “A pleasure to meet you, my lady.” Judd smiled.

  “Likewise.” She simpered warmly.

  “You have the most remarkably shaded hair.” Judd complimented. “It’s really quite lovely. Your mother’s influence?”

  “My wife, Jocasa, had similarly coloured hair in her youth though it is much faded now.” Donimede lamented.

  “Is your wife here?” Judd looked around.

  “My mother is confined,” Willower explained, “she gave birth only yesterday.”

  “A son at last!” Donimede chuckled.

  “It must be the season for babies.” Judd chuckled then saw Donimede’s puzzled expression. “My nomad recently helped a young woman in the clan through a very difficult birth.”

  “Your nomad bride is a healer?”

  “Bride?” Willower asked with a twinge of a bite to her tone.

  “She was dressed as a bride,” Donimede explained, “however, LaMogre insists she was a gift and probably came adorned as such.”

  “Yes, Aalis is not my bride.” Judd insisted and the furrows in Willower’s brow lifted. “She is a very competent healer and has travelled with me for some time.”

  Donimede nodded then turned to his other guests. “Allow me to introduce you to the resident lords and nobility that reside in Fort Mavour.”

  Three hours later Judd finally escaped the dining hall.

  He felt as though his brains were turning to mush.

  The nobility that resided at Fort Mavour had peppered Judd with questions about his journey but not about the monsters or the adventures he’d had. Rather, they wanted to know about dining with Sir Fereak and his wife then there was twenty minutes of gossip about Fereak’s interesting habits and Alonin’s removal from all good society in Astaril. Though Judd had not liked Lady Alonin Fereak very much, he would not join in on their mockery of her and the way her hopes had been dashed marrying a knight that did not live up to her expectations.

  When Captain Chael, who had been included in the supper invitation, asked about the orthros and giant spider incident at Fort Sol, which led to Judd mentioning Sir Egrette’s arrival, the gossip switched to Egrette’s incessant womanising and how his son was just like him. There were titters about the amount of illegitimate children and grandchildren Egrette probably had to his name.

  “Not one chamber maid or scullery miss would have escaped unscathed in Fort Callain.”

  Judd felt sick.

  Then the conversation turned to Quarre and the death of Lord LeMewn and the gossiping fired up once more, mocking the placement of a lord where a knight should have been and of LeMewn’s desperation to hold onto the connection he had once had to the throne.

  “As if he had any right to boast on that score. He is only the King’s half brother.”

  On top of the evening’s claustrophobic clamour, Donimede’s daughter seemed to be intent on making herself available to Judd. From the low cut of her bodice, which he couldn’t help but appreciate as she insisted on pouring his wine herself, leaning down to do so, to the almost sicky sweet scent of seduction that reeked from her as she laughed at things he said, regardless whether or not they were amusing. Thankfully she had to leave about halfway through the meal but her scent lingered long after she was gone.

  Judd had begged to retire for an early night and, after several wrong turns, found his way back to the corridor that led to his room. To his surprise, Verne was sitting on a chair outside, one foot propped up, reading a book.

  “Verne?”

  “Ah, Judd,” Verne snapped the book shut, “just thought you should know the servants have drawn you a bath.”

  “A bath?” Judd closed his eyes. “Oh…because I might have said, I’m going to need to bathe after this.”

  “After supper?” Verne stood up. “Was there a food fight?”

  Judd chuckled then sighed. “No. Just felt…” He shuddered. “I need to wash off the evening.”

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  “Then you’d better take advantage of it while it’s hot.” Verne nodded. “I figured you should enter from the guest door rather than the servant’s entrance.”

  Judd paused at the door. “They didn’t make you tote the water, did they?”

  “No and I didn’t offer.” Verne snorted and closed the servant’s door behind him.

  Judd entered his chambers and saw the bath set in front of the fireplace. It was a curved rectangular metal tub on claw feet, water almost up to the brim and steam coming off it. Judd smiled at the sight of it, thinking how nice it would be to relax in the water.

  “Shouldn’t be too long.” He mused quietly, heaving his shirt over his head. “Don’t want to keep Verne and Aalis out. Oh…robe.” He spied the robe hanging near the fireplace with a towel on the chair next to it and a bar of soap on top which he tossed into the water. Even though the room was warm from the robust fire, Judd was quick to clamber into the bath after he’d shed his clothes. He sank into the hot water and sighed happily.

  He had grand intentions of getting out quickly but the water was like a giant, all over embrace that soaked into his pores and made him want to stay there forever. He did manage to motivate himself into finding the soap at the bottom of the tub and lathering his hair into a mass of bubbles. He had to close his eyes to do so splashing lightly in the water so he didn’t hear or see the other person in the room until their hands were buried in his hair. It took a second for him, in his waterlogged, wine sodden relaxed state to comprehend what the touch meant before he twisted in the tub, pulling upright and out of their grip and saw Willower sitting on the edge of the bath, her hands soapy and her cheeks flushed.

  “Willower?” He gasped.

  “You said you needed to bathe…”

  Judd’s eyes widened then he cursed himself for doing so as soap got into them and he hissed at the sting, dunking his head into the water then launched himself out of the bath, keeping his back to Willower. There was nothing he could do about his exposed backside as he lunged blindly for the robe.

  “I didn’t mean for you to do the bathing!” He barked, finally grasping fabric and dragging towards himself, trying to wrap it around his body. “I’m perfectly capable of bathing myself…what is wrong with this robe?!”

  “It is a curtain.”

  Judd finally blinked enough water out of his eyes to see that he had in fact grabbed the curtain rather than the robe. He managed to swap them, able to keep himself relatively covered as he dragged the robe on, the silky fabric clinging to his body a little too closely in some places. He tied the belt like a tourniquet, able to use both hands to scrape his hair out of his face, glaring at Willower.

  “You cannot just come into a man’s bedchamber and act the part of…”

  “What?” She said, standing, allowing her dark red locks to tumble out of their braids into curling tendrils. “Seductress? Temptress?”

  Judd backed up as she walked towards him, her hips swaying with exaggerated motion.

  “Your father is going to kill you…or me…or both!”

  Willower laughed and it grated on Judd’s nerves. “My father would welcome my entanglement with a knight.”

  “I am not a knight!”

  “You are closer than any other.” She continued to advance until Judd was backed against the window, the flush in her cheeks blooming down into other generous curves of her body that he was desperate not to stare at yet could look nowhere else. His nostrils filled with the scent of liquor, so strong he wondered if he would become inebriated just from the smell. “Judd LaMogre…do you not desire me?”

  “I barely know you!” Judd squeaked out.

  “You are a man. I am a woman. That is more than enough for me.” To his horror she began to pull at the ties of her bodice. Before it could slip away he grasped her shoulders, holding her sleeves in place which kept her dress from falling.

  “Not for me,” he said harshly, fright making him angry, “and it ought not to be enough for you.” He pushed her back, putting some distance between them. He wished he could throw open the window for his lungs were filled with heat and he was hot and clammy. He strode away from her, grasping the towel and rubbing his hair. When it was finally only damp and not dripping water down his back he tossed it aside and saw Willower still standing where he’d left her. The curls of her hair hung around her face like a hood, veiling her face. Sensing she was battling with pride, refusing to go until she had conquered his resistance, Judd folded his arms. “You need to leave before Sir Donimede finds out about this.”

  “He does not care…” She said softly and he was struck at the change of her tone. It was as though the woman with the husky tone had vanished and a girl was in her place. She didn’t look up at him as she grasped at the ties of her dress and tried to draw them tight as she slid her feet into her slippers which had gone unnoticed beneath the bed. “He cares not for me.”

  She kept her face turned away from him, allowing her hair to shroud her expression. Yet it could not hide her hopelessness. Judd blinked, stunned to realise the desperate need to seduce him had been masking a deep well filled with grief.

  “I am sure that is not true…” He protested weakly.

  Willower gave a small laugh that sounded more like a sob. “I know it to be true. My mother gave him a son. He is finally happy.”

  Judd considered briefly whether Willower was a touch selfish and spoiled but her demeanour seemed less pouty and more grievously resigned.

  “He could just be happy,” Judd urged gently, “to have another child…it doesn’t mean…”

  “There are only two good things about having daughters,” Willower announced abruptly, “they either bind good men to their father or bind their father to great men.” She caught sight of Judd’s hurt look then turned away. “Father said that about my sixth sister when she was born,” she sank onto a chair, her shoulders sagging, “after I had already failed to win over Sir Rylan…then Sir Fereak…Sir Egrette’s son, Haern…Sir Rylan again after Princess Genovieve’s death…” Judd closed his eyes and sat on the edge of the bed. The ridges of the flocked bed linen rubbed beneath his fingers. “You were…my last chance…” He heard her sniff and then exhale shakily. “Well…at least I cannot disappoint him further…”

  “Willower…I’m…sorry.” Judd murmured, grieved by her situation. “I…you are lovely.” She huffed at him and he opened his eyes to see disbelief on her expression. “Really, you are!” He was astonished that she couldn’t see it herself.

  “If I was truly lovely…we would not be speaking now.” She said timidly, her eyes flitting to the bed.

  Judd’s neck became hot. “I…I’m in love.” He blurted and she turned her hazel eyes to him with wistful want. “I’ve never admitted it out loud before and I feel a right fool doing so now…”

  “Is it,” he looked up at her tentative query, “your nomad bride?”

  Judd’s throat tightened. “I…she is not my bride nor can we ever be together.”

  “Because she is a nomad and you will be a knight?”

  Judd put his hand to his face. “Because she is not mine to love.”

  Willower licked her lips then, after a brief hesitation, sat next to him. She maintained a safe distance but he could feel her presence yet she did not press any advantage.

  “I am sorry.”

  “Don’t feel sorry for me,” Judd chuckled limply, “I’m just a bit pathetic…”

  “Is it pathetic to yearn for love?” Willower asked.

  “No, that’s not what I…”

  “I will let you in on a terrible secret,” Willower swallowed, “I would happily be married to a man who loved another…just to be called a wife.” She glanced at him out of the corner of her eye. “Now you know what it means to be truly pathetic.”

  Judd sat up and twisted to turn towards her. “No, I won’t accept that. You are not pathetic and you shouldn’t have to win a man’s attention…or even just get him to marry you to secure your father’s approval.” Willower smiled weakly at him but it was sincere and for a moment, she glowed with inner beauty that made her quite lovely to behold.

  “You are quite kind, Judd LaMogre. I am sorry I came on so…”

  “Strong?”

  She tousled her dark red hair and sighed. “I suppose I was desperate. He is not yet a knight but he may yet become one. Perhaps he will see some value in you if you only press your advantage.”

  Judd’s jaw tightened. “Did your father really say that?” Willower nodded. Judd swallowed. “Well…not that I want to play into this farce but…do you think your father would relent a little if, for the time I was in Fort Mavour…we…I don’t know…”

  “Courted?”

  Judd winced. “Courted is a little strong…perhaps…stepped out together?” He pulled a face. “It would only be for as long as I was here and only for your father’s benefit and not because…”

  “Yes,” Willower said in an enthusiastic gasp which had Judd recoiling, “oh, I apologise…I mean,” she breathed in deeply and calmed herself, “I accept your proposal of the fa?ade of stepping out together.”

  Judd chuckled. “Well…that’s settled. Although, if that’s the case, perhaps you ought to…”

  “Oh,” Willower’s hazel eyes became round and she stood up, “yes, of course, you are right. I will…” She paused. “Could you just tie the top of my bodice so that it does not look like I tried to seduce you?”

  Judd indicated for her to turn around and she did. He quickly pulled the laces tighter and tied a quick bow. “That should get you back to your chambers.”

  “Thank you.”

  “It was nothing.” Judd was surprised by Willower’s light kiss on his rough cheek, leaving behind the scent of liquor from her lips.

  “Truly, thank you.” Her weak smile from before became bold and bright. Judd was mesmerised by the change a little hope had invoked in her but before anything could come of it, she hurried to the door and slipped out of it without a backward glance.

  Judd breathed out and flopped onto the bed…then groaned.

  “Now the linen will be wet!”