Iylaine meets a new knight

Iylaine followed her father into the great hall at the castle, so sullen that she had not even responded to the whispered greeting of the funny, freckle-​faced guard whom she ordinarily liked. She had wanted to spend the afternoon with her father—they were to have ridden out to Yware’s castle to visit Aylmer and his family—but the Baron had unexpectedly arrived. Her father had forgotten all about their ride as soon as he had learned.

She did not doubt that Freya and Ana had accompanied him. They were such good friends with Synne. For the first time, she was not sorry that Malcolm was not there. And wouldn’t Synne be the fine lady and parade her little sweetheart before them? Ever since she had been betrothed to Murchad, she had acted as if Malcolm was utterly beneath her notice. Because he was only Lord Colban’s son and not Lord Aed’s! She hadn’t been too fine a lady for him before Murchad came along!

“Iylaine!” Gwynn squealed and ran across the hall to kiss her cheeks and hop around before her. As annoying as the little girl could be, Iylaine had that consolation: even now that she was living at the castle and saw Synne nearly every day, Lady Gwynn was utterly faithful to her idol.

Iylaine told herself that she might take Gwynn out for a ride. It would, at least, give her an excuse to get away from the other girls.

There were Freya and Ana indeed, engaging in mutual raptures with Synne. There was frank and hearty Lord Brinstan—a far better match for Princess Britamund than the shy, sensitive son of the Duke, in Iylaine’s opinion.

And there was the Baron himself. Her father went at once to embrace him. It was funny to see her tall father with a man so much taller than he.

But there was another man with the Baron, and Iylaine did not recognize this one.

Gwynn was still tugging at her sleeve and begging her to “do something” with her, which made it difficult to hear the men’s conversation.

“Whisht!” she whispered and hugged the girl to quiet her. “Perhaps we shall go for a ride if you’re quiet until the men have finished.”

“Oh!” Gwynn gasped in delight, and then clapped her hand over her mouth and held it there faithfully until Iylaine spoke to her again.

The Baron was asking her father whether he remembered Sir Osfrey, which her father claimed to do. The only Sir Osfrey that Iylaine had heard mentioned was the father of the Duke’s squire, Eadwyn.

The men exchanged pleasantries for a moment before Iylaine’s father waved her over.

Iylaine took Gwynn by the hand, to the little girl’s delight, and went to meet them.

“Why—is this the little elf Iylaine?” Sir Osfrey cried with the sort of exaggerated admiration one uses when speaking to small children.

Iylaine gave him a half-​hearted smile while cursing him in her heart, and she lifted the ends of her hair unbidden to show off her ears.

Ignoring this, Sir Osfrey gushed, “But I should have guessed at once! You know, my dear, my son Eadwyn often talks about you, and he has said that you are quite possibly the prettiest girl he knows. I admit I would have found it hard to believe that there was a prettier girl in the valley if you had told me that you are not Iylaine.”

Her father was smiling at the man, but she could not read his eyes. She wished desperately that Malcolm were there. Malcolm would know what to think of this new person. Malcolm would tell her how to treat him.

“I believe that Eadwyn finds Freya prettier than I,” Iylaine said coolly. She did not like the idea of Eadwyn looking at her as a pretty girl—and even less speaking of her.

“Oh, he does?” Sir Osfrey chuckled and winked at the Baron. “Well! It may be! But I am certain that is a question that is often up for debate among the young men here, isn’t it? It is fortunate that my lord Baron’s nieces live on the hills and you here in the valley. Otherwise it would be entirely unfair—an entire generation of young men in one place or the other deprived of such beauty!”

Iylaine did not set much store by such things in any event, but it seemed to her that he lacked the grace of the Duke when it came to compliments. Even Dunstan spoke better, she thought. If she could not have Malcolm, she would have been happy to have Dunstan at that moment. At least he and she could go off and laugh at the man later.

But she did see that this would likely be her best opportunity for a snub, and so she turned to her father and said pointedly, “Da, may I take Gwynn out for a ride?”

“Please?” Gwynn added.

“If my daughter and my lady command it,” he smiled down at Gwynn. “But be back soon,” he said to Iylaine. “I expect we shall have an early supper for our visitors.”

“If we can find Leofric before then,” the Baron smiled.

“We always eat without him if he’s late,” Gwynn offered.

“Oh, well, then he shall have the scraps!” Sir Osfrey laughed.

Iylaine glowered at him before marching Gwynn away. She did not like Leofric, but she did not think it was for a knight to be offering scraps unto a lord.