Chapter Twenty-Four

“Oh! I’m sorry. Are you alright?” Lilyrose’s eyes stretched wide.

Henry raised his gaze, frowning. “I hope you’re not planning on asking after your enemy whenever you land a blow.”

“You’re not my enemy.”

His features softened, and he grinned, his fingers still plucking at the small tear on the shoulder of his padded doublet. Unlike the wooden swords they used when they’d first started practicing together, they now used real ones. “You’ve improved so much since the last time we practiced.”

Despite her concern, Lilyrose was pleased. This was the first time she’d succeeded in getting past Henry’s defences to strike him. If not for the protection of his doublet, she’d have drawn blood. “Master Rufus is relentless in his instruction.”

“Did you think you’d have an easy time of it because of his age?” He handed her a cloth. Despite the cool, damp weather, they’d both worked up a sweat.

Wrinkling her nose, she nodded. “I wasn’t expecting special treatment, he’d made that clear from the start. But I wasn’t expecting his strength and speed.” Glancing around the empty circular storeroom, she lowered her voice, leaning towards him. “He’s older than Papa.”

Henry laughed, the sound muffled by the cloth as he scrubbed his face dry.

“He wants to teach me to how to use a lance. He said he’ll have one specially made, lighter, shorter. And then he’ll teach me how to use it while riding. He said my riding has improved enough for it.”

Eyes wide, he paused with the cloth held to his dark blond hair, made darker with sweat.

“He said it would be a good skill to learn and Papa agrees,” she said, grinning widely. “No one would expect me to be able to defend myself in that manner.”

“That’s true–oh.” He made a face. “How are you going to hide that from Aunt Eleanor?”

Her smile faltered as a loud sigh slipped from her. “Papa said we’re going to have to tell her soon.”

“I wish you luck, you and Uncle both.”

As Henry put the weapons away and fastened the lock on the box, Lilyrose tugged her gown over her head to cover the shirt and trousers she wore for sword practice.

Outside, Lilyrose caught the door key Henry tossed to her and secreted it in her pocket. Looking up at the grey sky, heavy with cloud, she said, “I was hoping we’d be able to go riding later.”

“It might well rain, the air feels damp.”

Her gaze darted about. “We, we could have a game of tric-trac in the solar then.”

Slowing to a halt, Henry fixed her with a quizzical stare. “Since when did you enjoy playing tric-trac?”

Lilyrose fumbled for a believable explanation then sighed and grinned. “I don’t. But Alice does.” She burst out laughing as Henry started, his cheeks colouring. “Henry! You’ve gone the same colour Alice does when we talk to her about you.”

He blinked. “You-you talk to her; about me? Wait. What do you mean ‘we’?”

Hugging his arm, she said, “Margaret and me, silly, who else? It’s so obvious you like her, and she likes you, but you both seem to do nothing but ignore each other.”

“I don’t mean to.” He hung his head. “I don’t know what to say. And I’m. I’m…”

Her forehead wrinkled. She wasn’t used to seeing him so unusually insecure. “What’s wrong?”

“Promise you won’t laugh?”

“Henry. You know I’d never do that.”

“I’m afraid.” His voice was so soft, she had to lean closer.

“Oh, Henry.” She laid her head against his arm.

“She’s beautiful, clever. She sings so sweetly–”

“And she likes you.”

Shaking his head, he scratched his cheek. “I think she likes Ronal more.”

Lilyrose’s head jerked back. “No, she doesn’t. Why would you say that?”

“Last year, she spent most of her time with him–”

“Because you weren’t asking her to dance. She wanted to dance with you, she told us. Would I lie to you?”

“Oh,” was all he could think to say.

“She does like you. I promise.”

He stared at the ground for so long, Lilyrose glanced down, wondering if something had caught his attention.

“What should I do?”

“Talk to her.”

A weak laugh escaped him. “You make it sound so simple.”

She smiled as they resumed walking. “Would it help if we were there too?”

“You and Margaret? Yes. Yes, I think so.”

“Then that’s where we’ll be, my darling cousin, by your side.”

As they walked towards the palace doors, Henry fell silent as did Lilyrose, believing him to be lost in thoughts of Alice. Her eyes twinkled as a thrill raced through her with the realisation that her and Margaret’s attempt at match-making was so close to success. Their endeavour had been a welcome distraction from her fear of the curse.

She’d already decided the time had come to stop living a half-life, to stop hiding away, to embrace life to the full. She would no longer give up on her dreams. Instead, she would fight and not let the curse easily claim her.

“What a difference a month can make.” Margaret had her arm linked with Lilyrose’s as they walked around the garden, far enough behind Henry and Alice.

Lilyrose giggled. “When you think it took him almost a week simply to speak to her in full sentences.”

“The times I almost hit him. I couldn’t believe he was the same brother I’d always looked up to, he was behaving like an addled simpleton.”

“I didn’t know whether to laugh or cry when Alice asked us if she there was something wrong with her.”

“I confess, Lilyrose, at that moment I was ashamed.”

“Thank heavens for Milly throwing a shoe and refusing to move.”

They laughed softly as they remembered when Alice’s mare, Milly, lost a shoe.

The four of them had been out riding when it had happened. Henry had insisted Alice ride his grey, Storm, despite Alice’s nervousness for Storm was much taller than her mare. Lilyrose had been about to offer to ride Storm instead so Alice could ride her horse, but Margaret had stopped her. To their guarded delight, Henry had given Alice a leg-up before mounting up behind her.

“If I’d known it was simply a matter of Henry being.” Margaret tilted her head as if searching for the right word.

“Manly?”

Margaret snorted before she relented. “I suppose, yes. Well, I’d have contrived something sooner.”

Lilyrose nodded agreement.

“Seeing them together, the way Henry found his courage, and Alice also–”

“When she said she was going to ask him if he didn’t, a part of me hoped she would.”

“That’s what I mean.” Margaret clutched Lilyrose’s arm with both her hands, her eyes wide as she leaned close. “Alice was going to speak first.”

Lilyrose raised her brow, not grasping her cousin’s meaning.

“I’ve decided. I’m going to be brave too. If he doesn’t speak first, I’m going to.”

A weight settled in Lilyrose’s belly. She knew who Margaret meant yet she still asked, “Who?”

“Ronal, of course.” Sighing, she clasped her hands to her chest. “When he danced with me last year.” Humming softly, she held her skirt in one hand, extended her other arm and stepped lightly in a dance.

Lilyrose tried to smile but ended up biting her lip instead. “Margaret. You know he won’t. The only reason he did last year was because there were so few guests. And Papa invited him to.”

“And Uncle will allow it again, I’m sure.”

“Ronal won’t act outside his position when others are around.”

She stopped and frowned, thrusting out her lower lip. “We always have fun together.”

“That’s because it’s only us.”

Laughing, she gave a dismissive wave of her hand. “Oh, Lilyrose. You’re worrying over nothing. After last year, things have changed, I’m sure of it. Now, we’ll all be part of a pair; Henry and Alice, you and Arthur and me and Ronal.”

Before Lilyrose could react, Margaret was dancing away from her. Wrapping her arms around her tightening belly, all she could do was stare.