Aurie couldn’t believe her eyes when Enya appeared in the bailey in the long blue dress. It hugged her hips and was tight over her thighs, barely covering those bare ankles and the flat shoes she was staring at as if she were regretting not wearing boots. Even Enya’s hair, which Aurie had thought was far darker and less thick than she now saw, was down and wild, held by a thick red ribbon that was struggling to keep it all back. It was thick and curly, with streaks of brown and red flairs that shown in the warmth of the sun, hanging nearly to her knees. She had foregone the leather belt for her sword and instead had a red sash in its place that made her hips bulge in a way that made Aurie look to see if Draka was near. Where would he be looking?

  It was Senna who caught her eyes, waiting for her by the horses with that defeated look on her face. Aurie knew there were only a few hours left before the dances began.

  “It’s been a while,” Enya grinned when she saw Aurie approach. She held out her dress and swished it, “What do you think?”

  “I’m speechless,” Aurie met her smile. “You look beautiful.” She raised a brow, “You planning on dancing the ribbon?”

  “Oh, Lord, no,” Enya waved that off. “But you think I look alright? This isn’t exactly what my people would wear.”

  “Not enough furs in Talkro to cover you, I’m guessing,” Aurie chuckled as she shook her head in wonder, still awed by the sight.

  “Oh, hardy-har-har,” Enya rolled her eyes. “I have feelings, too, breeder.”

  “You look wonderful,” Aurie squeezed her arm. “I never imagined seeing you like this, is all. I wish you had told me, Alice would have—”

  “Made me dress like you,” Enya huffed. “Sorry, but I don’t think I’d be able to stand having my organs squeezed into my chest like that. I have no idea how any of you breathe with all that on. Hey,” Enya grabbed her hands and pulled her toward the stables, “Think you can help me with something?”

  Aurie shrugged. “Sure, but I need to—”

  “What would be the right way to ask a man to dance?” Enya’s hands were sweating. She was truly nervous even if she looked as stoic as ever. Her voice was lighter than it normally was, too. Not nearly as deep as Aurie was used to. “I mean, in your way? Your people?” Enya winced, letting go of her hands. “Is it bad for me to ask a man to dance?”

  “It’s usually the men who ask, except with the ribbons,” Aurie saw Senna look at her. “I don’t know of any woman ever asking the man first, to be completely honest.”

  “Shit,” Enya straightened and scoffed at the dress she was wearing. “This was a terrible idea. I look like a bloody blueberry tree!”

  “Who are you—”

  “Doesn’t matter, he’ll never ask,” Enya growled. The deepness returned. “I’m getting back into uniform. This was a fool’s errand.”

  “Wait,” Aurie grabbed her before she could turn back toward the barracks behind the stables. Enya’s eyes were glistening. She could feel the trembles in the fingers she barely caught. “Who is it? Maybe I can get one of the others to give him a push to ask. Men sometimes do that for other men.”

  “Like I said, a fool’s errand,” Enya pulled her hand away with a shake of her head. “Men around here prefer women smaller than them. Like you and yours. I’m—a tree with a sword. You go about your business, Regent.”

  “Who is it?” Aurie crossed in front of her. “And there are plenty of men as tall as you in that festival, if you haven’t looked.”

  “They don’t like women who look them eye to eye, trust me,” Enya frowned down at her. “Let me be. I feel like an idiot in these rags. Paid a pretty penny for it, too.”

  “For who? If he’s a Talkrois, I can talk to one of the wives and get him to see how honestly beautiful you are,” Aurie saw that Senna was petting Vigora instead of giving her impatient glances.

  “Pierre,” Enya sunk.

  Aurie had to swallow down her impulse to laugh. It was a difficult thing to do for a few seconds. Unfortunately, Enya’s glare let her know it didn’t go unnoticed. She decided to let it out. They had edged their way into one of the empty stalls of the stables without even realizing it.

  “Glad you find it so funny,” Enya growled. “As if being in this isn’t humiliating enough!”

  Aurie covered her mouth, shaking her head, “No, that’s not what’s funny. It’s Pierre!”

  “I’m going to work you until I get tired for this the moment the sun goes down,” Enya crossed her arms under a fierce glare, the dress stretching against those thick thighs.

  “No,” Aurie tucked her lips, “Stay in that dress and—Pierre? Really? Little Pierre?” Aurie held a hand up just below her forehead. Enya’s glare grew fierce. “Sweety, the man’s never danced with anyone.”

  “Oh, that’s a lie,” Enya rolled her eyes. “I don’t know how a man like that has gone unmarried for so long, but I know he’s had more than his share of prospects. He probably just doesn’t let any of you know about it because of,” she waved a hand to indicate Aurie’s reaction, “this.”

  Aurie snickered. So did Senna, who had slid to lean over one of the stable rails. She didn’t shy away from Enya’s glare when it was turned on her.

  Senna only leaned on her hand, “She’s right. Pierre isn’t liked by any of us here or Alcer. He’s boring and pompous.”

  “He’s anything but!” Enya looked between them in awe. “How could you both…? He’s good looking, educated, knows his work well, has ethic, is studious, I could talk to him for days if I wasn’t so damned shy around him.”

  Aurie and Senna had the same expressions. Senna was the one who said what they were thinking, “He’s certainly most of those things.”

  “You two are delirious if you don’t see that he’s a catch among small fish,” Enya crossed her arms at both of them.

  “Don’t change out of the dress,” Aurie was still trying to wrap her head around it. The poor man won’t know what hit him. Or why. “I do have a question, though. I was going to ask Captain Gerard first, but you’re here.”

  Enya’s everything changed instantly. Her face went back to its usually martial tightness and her eyes had a glint like steel in them. Her voice retained its deepness, “I don’t want you going anywhere near him, especially without a proper Paladinate Command escort. Ever. That’s an official order, if you’re wondering.”

  Aurie’s eyes widened. “I’m sorry?”

  “I mean it, Aurie. You can’t go near him without either myself or someone in my main command staff at your side, Regent or not. If it pertains to him, it goes through me and I pass it down. I’m not budging on it. And I don’t have to explain why. It’s called Chain of Command for a reason.”

  “Alright, then,” Aurie met Enya’s glare, even if it meant taking a step back to not make her neck sore from looking up too sharply. “Then I want to know who Raul is that was on night patrols through the woods behind the fishermen’s houses.”

  Enya cocked her head sideways. “What now? There have never been patrols through the woods. Monastics are susceptible to possession, it would be too dangerous for them. By the King’s order—even while he was just the untitled Prince—none were to venture into the woods except during daylight and even then, it was in mass to cut down trees. No patrols were issued. We still don’t do those kinds of patrols for the same reason.”

  “That’s not true,” Senna slid off the rail. “I know Raul was on patrols when he would meet me. That’s how I was able to see him. It was the only time. The same time, every night.”

  “I’m telling you, no one in their right mind would venture into the woods on that side of the road at night,” Enya bared down on her, then took a step back and looked her over. “You lay with him?”

  Aurie could see the color fade from the girl’s face.

  “I did. I had a miscarriage and Aurie healed me when she healed my family. She stopped the bleeding.”

  “Have you met with a priest since then? Have you confessed this in prayer or through a priest or monk?” Enya was becoming aggressive, even growling.

  “Hey! She’s just a fool girl who made a mistake,” Aurie wished there wasn’t a rail stopping her from getting between them.

  “No, I told no one,” Senna backed into a pillar, her arms tightly shielding her chest.

  “We will pray now, then,” Enya turned to Aurie. “We need to pray, now. Senna, you need to confess your sins, namely that one, because I don’t think you lay with a man. We will find out once we’re done, but right now, I need you to kneel and pray with us.”

  Aurie nodded when Senna looked at her. Senna reached for her under the rail and Aurie took her hand. They went to their knees, hands clasp together. Enya drew her sword.

  “What are you doing?” Aurie nearly leapt to her feet, but Enya held her shoulder down.

  “It’s not for her,” Enya loomed over Senna, the sun gleaming on the steel of the wide blade resting on her shoulder. “Pray for forgiveness, girl, and mean it as if your life depends on it. Not from me.”

  “Explain. Now.” Aurie was gritting her teeth.

  “She lay with one of two beings. Regardless of which, her confession, if sincere, will agitate what’s left in her, if any, and I will kill it. If not, then she will have confessed and we’ll move on with our day,” Enya shrugged. To Senna, “I’m not trying to scare you, but the Holy Spirit has healed you already. Let’s be sure it didn’t reattach itself. You needn’t speak your sins, merely mean it in your heart when you speak them to the Lord in your mind when Aurie goes silent. Understand?”

  Senna nodded, trembling through the straw beneath their knees. She squeezed Aurie’s hand even tighter. Aurie nodded to reassure her.

  “Bow your head with me,” Aurie waited until she did before giving Enya one last glare.

  Enya shrugged, unmoved.

  Aurie prayed, “Lord God Almighty, Creator of all things, we come to you today to thank You for all the blessings You have given us and to ask for Your forgiveness, for we have sinned, Lord. Of these, we shall say unto You in our silence,” and Aurie let the silence linger.

  “Let them all out, girl,” Enya’s voice had softened again. “His love is unfailing. But you must admit your guilt and seek to be redeemed in His eyes.”

  Aurie steadied her breaths. She felt the stiff straw beneath the folds of her dress under her knees.

  She clenched her eyes. Forgive me for my jealousy, for coveting him, for lusting after him, and I don’t know if it would count as adultery since I am still mourning my Balor, but I want him, Lord. I can’t ask for forgiveness for that, because I’m unsure if I would ever willingly apologize for loving him. I see his dreams. I don’t know what You intend for me, Lord. I want to do Your bidding, to follow Your path and obey Your commands. So, if it is possible, Lord, if it is something that might be Your Will, can I have him? Can I have another man as my husband? Can I have Draka? I do ask for forgiveness for the unclean thoughts, though. They’re getting out of hand, You and I both know that…Oh, and please take care of Senna, she needs Your help.

  Aurie felt a tap on her shoulder and lifted her head, “In the name of the Father, through the Son, in the fellowship of the Holy Spirit, Amen.”

  “Amen,” Senna echoed and looked up to Enya.

  Enya sheathed her sword with a long sigh of relief. “Looks like Aurie did her job that night. You were cleansed in body. Now, you’re cleansed in spirit. We’ll have the King look at you soon with his True Sight to be sure there’s no residue. Otherwise,” Enya lifted Senna onto her feet, leaving Aurie to use the rail on her own. “You are good as new.”

  “Can He re-virgin me?” Senna gave her a half-hearted grin.

  “No,” Enya pursed her brow. “It does grow back if you don’t stick anything else in there.”

  “ENYA!” Aurie was finally on her feet. She brushed at the bits of straw sticking to her petticoats.

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  “Is that true?” Senna scrunched her nose.

  “So I’ve been told,” Enya bumped elbows with her. “The moment I get Pierre to marry me, I’ll let you know.”

  Senna’s laugh was somewhat filled with horror.

  Aurie flapped her petticoats to get the rest of the hay to bounce off. “Well, then let’s go see if the King will increase your dowry to make the fathers think twice about keeping you off that pole.” As she and Senna walked past Enya, she shook her head at her, “You need to spend more time with women who aren’t soldiers.”

  “You need to spend more time with us,” Enya followed them toward the bridge. “You might learn a thing or two.”

  “Oh, I’m learning,” Aurie huffed. “If I can,” she said to Senna, who was nearly jogging to keep up with her, “I’ll see if he can double it. I know he intends a handsome sum for the wedding gift, but if you have an outright dowry, that should get you on the poles regardless of your reputation.”

  “You think he’d do that for me?” Senna had to skip a few steps to stay at her side.

  “If she asks,” Enya winked, barely walking briskly and still keeping pace with them, “the King will do it. No question.”

  “You act as if he always does what I tell him to,” Aurie shook her head at that. He never does what I want him to do unless he wants to do it.

  “He always does what you tell him to do,” Enya blinked at her. “He always does what she asks. You’ll have a good dowry.”

  When they reached the village square, what they found made all three of them stop in their tracks with gaping mouths. Draka and Olaf were dancing with each other to an odd tune, waving one hand in the air, while holding each other’s with the other. They kicked sideways and tucked their arms, lowering themselves, but never letting go of that one hand they had clasped.

  “Siberians,” Enya sounded like she wanted to spit.

  “Barbarians,” Aurie shook her head.

  “None of the boys will look at me,” Senna let out a long breath. “I used to at least get a glance. Now, nothing. They won’t even look my way. Not even Dalfur.”

  “He always wanted Maud,” Aurie put a finger to her teeth. How can she stop this? A King shouldn’t act this way, she was sure of that. He was making a fool of himself. And that music! Who listens to this sort of shrieking violin, anyway?

  “It’s a traditional dance of the Urals,” Adrian sauntered up to them. He looked Enya up and down. She could feel the air around Enya being sucked up with anticipation. The long silence that lingered was torturous. “I knew you were beautiful in that armor, but you are gorgeous in a dress, Commander.”

  Enya gushed. A hand to her arm and a sideways crick of her neck was all she could muster against the reddening of her olive skin. Adrian, the fiend, was beaming at his accomplishment.

  “He’s injured, how is he holding that…oh, how much has he drank?” Aurie couldn’t take her eyes away from Draka and Olaf’s dance. They were surrounded by villagers and Clerics, clapping along with the drums as the violin soared over it.

  “Lost count. A few, though,” Adrian seemed a bit too pleased with himself on that note. Aurie shot him a glare that made him straighten his back and clear his throat, “Two, Madame. He’s had two.”

  The violinist was dancing among the clappers, her colorful patchwork dress whirling around her in waves as she brought her tune to an end in front of them. Olaf and Draka finally let go to the roars and applause of everyone around them. And, Aurie felt fire in her eyes, to the large steins of foamy ale being passed to them.

  “Stay here,” Aurie started for him. Just as Draka reached up for the stein being handed to him, Aurie moved to in front of him. “Your Majesty.”

  Draka raised a brow, his hand resting on the stein, though he had yet to fully accept it from the man handing it to him from the stage of gypsy performers. His fingers slowly tightened around the handle.

  Aurie’s eyes slowly narrowed.

  He looked up at the stein and licked his lips. Then he looked down at her and blinked for a moment.

  He took the stein and, holding it above her head, turned and carried it to a stack of hay.

  Aurie’s glare went to Enya. Does what I want, does he? Her look said.

  Enya only tucked her chin to hide her laugh.

  “You’re planning on making that last the night, I hope,” Aurie was in front of him as he took a long sip that left white foam on the whiskers above his lips. He shrugged with his, ‘more or less’ scrunch of the nose. “Some King you are. I’m not looking forward to meeting the 'drunkard Draka.' I rather like the sober one.”

  That won her a curious grin from him that made her nearly take a step back. Her heart skipped from that grin.

  “I have a favor to ask,” she stepped closer, waving for Senna. Senna came trotting to her side so she could grab the girl’s shoulders, “She has a rough reputation, but she has prayed for forgiveness and I know her well. This is Senna Greshon, one of the ones I healed before I went to Strasbourg.”

  Draka tilted his head at her with even more curiosity in his look.

  “She needs a dowry or no one will let her dance the ribbon. I was thinking maybe give her what Balor and I saved for Maud’s dowry, thirty gold.”

  “Aunty Aurie, no,” Senna shook at her. “That’s too much. No one will believe it.”

  “You’re worth every coin,” Aurie pat her shoulder, but she was watching Draka staring at her with that same dumbfounded gaze of his. He looked on the verge of laughing. Then he shook his head and lifted the stein.

  Aurie swallowed it down. The hairs on her arms were rising. Her skin was cooling as the blood rushed to her heart and back out again.

  “Go to Enya,” she said to Senna.

  As soon as Senna was off, Aurie stomped at him and kicked at his shin. “How can you be so cruel? No? Just, no? That’s not even your money and you say no?”

  Draka lowered the stein, once again blinking at her as he licked the foam from above his lip.

  “She’s ruined without that dowry, Draka. You wouldn’t understand,” Aurie wanted to claw at that smug look on his face. “Your people probably don’t even know what a dowry is, let alone what it means to be a woman in this world without a husband to support them!”

  Draka looked sad at that. He set the stein down beside him and stood in front of her. He may be a head shorter than Enya and Adrian, but he was still taller than Aurie by just as much. And when he peered down at her in that moment, she didn’t know what he was thinking, but she knew she had hurt him by saying that.

  “Do your people have dowries? I honestly don’t know.”

  Draka raised a brow and shook his head. Then he hunched down just enough that his head was level with hers and stepped sideways to point into the field where all the meats were being cooked by the men.

  “Yes, they’re the ones who won’t let her dance the plowing ribbon, along with the Alcrois families, too. That’s the problem. But if we…”

  Draka tapped her shoulder and leaned so that his head was close to hers as he pointed over her shoulder. She could smell his hair and the musk of his sweat. Her mouth went dry. She concentrated on where he was pointing.

  Samma, Preston, and Morin, were talking. Preston was shaking his head, Morin was outright angry at Preston about something, and Samma looked frustrated with both of them. Morin and Preston looked on the verge of blows. Draka’s finger fell and she felt him rest his chin on her shoulder for a moment.

  She could feel him wrapped around her. His cheek was on the tip of her nose. His chest filled with breath against her back. The blinking of his eyelashes fluttered her own. She could taste him. All she needed was to turn her head just ever so slightly and she could kiss his cheek. Instead, he pulled from her with a suddenness and began making his way toward the men.

  Aurie put a hand to her chest. Her heart was beating so hard, her head was becoming light. That was…too close. She needed to steady herself. She needed to follow her…to follow him, not her anything. Just him. Him. Not hers.

  “You’re not marrying her, and that’s final! Now get back up there and stand with the others!” Preston shoved Samma.

  “Shit on you, Preston! At planting, you were begging for one of my sons to marry my girls, now they’re too good for them?” Morin balled his fists.

  “No,” Samma stood still as a statue in front of his father.

  “What did you say, boy?” Preston turned on him. “I told you to get your plowing hind back in that line so you can find a good girl to be your wife!”

  “No.”

  Aurie grabbed Draka’s shirt, stopping him from getting too close. She shook her head at him and pulled him back to where she was.

  Preston charged Samma, fists raised. Aurie latched both arms around Draka’s arm and held on with all her might. Morin didn’t move.

  A thunderous boom rocked the field as bright light spilled from between Samma’s chin and his father’s fist just before it would have connected. Samma didn’t raise his hands to defend himself against his father, he barely turned his head to take the strike. The blinding light that burst from him in that single flash threw Preston onto his back at Morin’s feet several paces away.

  “I wasn’t asking you, because it is not your permission I need,” Samma said with a growl. “I’m a man now.”

  “Then,” Preston rolled onto his feet with a scowl, “You can find yourself a new home to sleep in, because you’ll never be welcome in my house.”

  “He’ll have a place in the barracks immediately,” Enya called as she and Adrian jogged toward them. There were Clerics following behind. “Your son is a Paladin. And you should consider that your only warning. Son or not, God tends to be unforgiving about those who attack His soldiers.”

  “Wait,” Samma shook his head at them. “Not unless I can bring…well,” he turned to Morin, “With your permission, may I ask her?”

  Morin was wide eyed. “Yes, boy, please do!” Then, with a spit at Preston’s feet, “Funny how the world turns, isn’t it, Vorner? Balian’s little lackey finally put in his place.”

  Aurie let go of Draka’s arm just before the villagers began pouring into the field, led by Senna and Adrian. And the boys, in their best clothes, but with spears in hands behind Adrian as if he were their leader. Samma wasn’t running to meet them. He gave a thankful bow to Draka before going toward Senna.

  “What happened?” Andre asked, huffing to catch his breath as he gripped the spear in a way that made Aurie grab Draka’s hand with a tight squeeze.

  “Did you do that?” Chase was next.

  Samma was standing in front of Senna, ogling. Senna cocked a brow at him. She looked around him at Aurie, then past Aurie, back to Aurie—who shrugged—and then at Samma. Her lips trembled and pouted as her brows pressed together.

  “He’s a Paladin,” Hugo was standing next to Adrian. “Like the King.”

  “I don’t know how to ask,” Samma said to Senna.

  Senna was struggling not to cry as everyone was gathering around them. “Ask what?”

  Aurie didn’t realize until that moment that she had never let go of Draka’s hand. She didn’t want to move. She didn’t want to breathe if it meant he would let go. She felt it. She felt the rough callouses of his fingers on hers, felt the warmth of his grip, felt the pulse running through his thumb. And it calmed her.

  “For you to marry me,” Samma stood straight. “It’s a weird question to ask, really.”

  Senna was crying. “You want to marry me? Even though…?”

  Samma took a step toward her, “Will you be my wife and I, your husband? And no other. You can ask Damon, I don’t like sharing.”

  Senna wrapped her arms over his shoulders, nodding with a toothy smile. “Nor I. My answer is yes, Samma Vorner, I will be your wife.”

  “You did this without me,” Aurie said, hoping she could hold his hand a little longer.

  Draka didn’t look down at her. He shook his head. He pointed with one of the fingers of the hand he was holding hers with at Adrian. Then he slid his hand away. Aurie felt cold, as if a part of her had just been severed.

  “Not sure how we’ll make that work,” Enya bit the side of her mouth in thought. “Never had a married Paladin trainee before.”

  “We have,” Olaf came trotting up. “You just give him my room. Dimitriy and I will sleep in another One. We’ll make our bunks into one bed for them. She’s Paladinate, too. So, she’ll help with upkeep.”

  “Oh,” Senna swallowed that one down with a grin that was full of regret. “That sounds wonderful.”

  “You’re going to be living in the castle,” Enya chuckled. “Once you’re both officially married. Not before. You, on the other hand, will be reporting to me first thing in the morning, Paladin Trainee.”

  Senna looked like she was about to jump out of her skin when the boys all cheered with their spears in the air to that.

  “Don’t worry,” Aurie leaned close enough to whisper in Senna’s ear while they cheered, “It means you’ll be living in the castle with us. And, like they said, you’re Paladinate once you marry him.”

  “Live in the barracks?” Senna looked horrified.

  “I’ll make sure they know you can stitch better than the King’s tailors,” Aurie winked. “You’ll be the one making their uniforms the best in all the world.” Then, softly into her ear, “You’re marrying a Paladin, Senna. Be loyal.”

  Senna turned on her with a sharp, “I’m loyal and I will be good for him.” Senna kissed Samma’s cheek, “For my man.”

  “In case you’re wondering,” Andre stood in front of them, seemingly unaware that Aurie and Draka were right beside her, “If anyone speaks of your prior reputation, whatever happens to them afterwards is between them and God.”

  Aurie was able to catch Draka’s fixed gaze on the boy.

  “This isn’t the Old Talkro. This is the King’s Talkro, where a woman’s honor is defended by the true Talkrois men.” Andre nodded to them and then bowed to Draka and Aurie. “Your Majesties.”

  For a single brush of a moment, Aurie and Andre locked eyes. There was something in them that made Aurie wonder just how clever that boy was. For the first time, Aurie found herself matching words beyond what was said.

  ‘This isn’t old Talkro,’ she somehow heard, ‘You have a number of true Talkrois men at your beck and call, ready to defend you and your daughter.’