Page 22 of The Champion

“Nay?”

“I swear it.”

Stryder nodded. He’d spent three years of his life imprisoned. Three years where the will of others was forced upon him. He hadn’t been allowed even the most basic need or want. The whims of his captors had always reigned over his own.

Those three years had seemed to last an eternity. Even now, there were times when he thought he’d spent more of his life in shackles than free.

‘Twould be a shame to see a lady, even one so abrasive, lose the rest of her life to someone else’s whims. A woman such as this would never be happy in such a marriage. Like him, she would be imprisoned.

His Brotherhood oath went through him. He was sworn to help any who needed it.

All it would cost him was a song...

Stryder ground his teeth. Damn Henry for that. But then, the king didn’t know what such a thing would cost him. Why he despised troubadours and songs the way he did.

Damn them all for it.

He should turn her away, but he couldn’t. She was a noble lady in need of a champion. And no matter how much he might wish otherwise, he couldn’t find it within himself to turn her away.

“When is your contest, milady?”

Her eyes sparked with hope. “The day before your final match, during the noonday meal. There will be a panel of judges, and you must woo them with your words and performance.”

His stomach shrank. “Have you any idea how distasteful I find this?”

“Most likely as distasteful as I find having to ask this favor of you. It’s not in my nature to ask aught of others when I can do for myself.”

“And yet, here we are, united in our misery.”

At least his words succeeded in bringing a very small smile to her lips. A small smile that tugged at the edges of his battered heart. “I promise you, Lord Stryder, that so long as you make a good faith effort to win, I shall not add to your misery. Ever.”

He inclined his head to her. “Then I bid you goodnight, milady.”

As he started away from her, she stopped him. Before he realized what she was doing, she rose up on her tiptoes and laid a most gentle and chaste kiss to his cheek.

“Thank you for your kindness, rogue knight.”

Stryder could barely muster a breath as she left him there in the stillness of the night air. He stared after her, his body afire with sudden heat. Never had he received so innocent a kiss and never had one played such havoc with his body.

He must be mad to feel such for a termagant.

And yet, he couldn’t take his gaze off her. Even after she was gone, he still stood outside like a simpkin staring at where she had vanished out of his sight.

“Are you all right?”

He turned at the sound of Christian’s voice coming out of the darkness. “Aye,” he said gruffly. “Why wouldn’t I be?”

“I know not, only that you were standing there as if you’d just seen the face of heaven. You’ve a strange look about you.”

Stryder shook himself mentally and moved toward his tent.

“Why are you out here?” Christian asked.

Grateful his friend hadn’t seen Rowena, Stryder shrugged. “I felt the need for fresh air.”

Christian looked a bit skeptical, but thankfully, didn’t question him more. Instead, he led the way back into the tent.

“By the way,” Christian said as Stryder joined him inside. “The color red definitely suits Lady Rowena, doesn’t it?”