The Robber Knight's Love (The Robber Knight Saga #2)(178)
“Surely she was telling the truth, my Lord. How could any woman even think of daring to cast you aside for another man?”
Particularly when you have that look on your face, the servant privately added to himself.
“I don’t know.” His Lordship ground his teeth. “But I found out that, the other day, the first day after the Emperor had us ordered up to the Royal Palace, she was invited into the throne room, and so was he! She met him there, Sergio, I’m sure of it!”
“Well, if it was at the Emperor’s request, I’m sure it was all perfectly proper. I mean, in the Emperor’s presence, what could possibly happ—“
“The Emperor left halfway during the encounter.”
“Oh.”
“Exactly! If I could get my hands on that scheming, conniving bastard of an—“
“Psht!” Terrified, Sergio sprang forward and clamped a hand over his employer’s mouth, cutting him off. There weren’t many people in this world he was more afraid of than Lord d’Altavilla, and His Imperial Majesty the Emperor Friedrich von Hohenstaufen was at the top of the list. “You know he has eyes and ears everywhere!”
Hard, cold eyes bored furiously into his. Sergio dropped his hand as if he had been burned and knelt on the floor. “I beg a thousand pardons, Milord! I acted without thinking.”
“Yes, you did.” Slowly, d’Altavilla wiped his mouth with the back of his hand. “But it was out of a desire to protect me, so you shall not die for it.”
“Thank you, Milord. You are most gracious, Milord!”
“Indeed I am.” A nasty smile twisted his mouth. “Though, rest assured that, to Sir Reuben, may the devil take him, I shall not be so gracious.”
“Death to your enemies, Milord!”
“That sounds like an excellent suggestion.” Taking a deep breath, d’Altavilla stepped over to the window and gazed out at the stands that were being erected for the coming tournament all around the courtyard. His right hand tightened around his sword hilt, and a smile curved his lips. “And luckily, I shall soon have the opportunity to implement it with the whole world watching.”
~~*~~*
In the days leading up to the tournament, Reuben had started to double his efforts to win Lady Salvatrice. Beyond his half-hearted attempts at poetry, he began to give her flowers, smiles, and compliments and was cheered when she always accepted them and gave him a smile in return. Yet she also wore jewelry given to her by that unspeakable man, d’Altavilla. It made Reuben insanely jealous to see them glittering around her neck. He bought her one or two trinkets, too, but he couldn’t afford the priceless pieces that Lord d’Altavilla was lavishing on her. He could have, with his father’s wealth, but not with the little money he had left from his winnings.
Just wait, he promised himself. Wait a little longer. When you win the next tournament and carry away all the prizes, you can buy her as much jewelry as you want.
And in the meantime? Well, he could try to find a better word to rhyme with “kiss.” There had to be something!
Three days later, his efforts had still gone unrewarded. But who cared? The tournament was here! The time for rhyming was past!
“Sir Reuben von Limburg!” he herald call out. “The reigning champion!”
To tumultuous cheers from the crowd, Reuben checked the straps on his helmet, raised his lance, and cantered into the courtyard, joining the other knights who were already waiting there. Some of them he knew, some he didn’t. A few hadn’t arrived at Palermo in time for the last tournament and were delighted to find another in its stead, and eager to test their skills against the new champion. Reuben didn’t care about them. He knew he could and would crush them. Sir Tomasso had returned to his manor, so the only joust Reuben really looked forward to was the one with a certain Sicilian Lord.
“I will now announce the pairs that will joust in the first round! Sir Marcello against Sir Rinaldo! Sir Claude against…”
Tuning out the herald’s voice, Reuben looked up at the Royal Box. Since the Emperor wasn’t here, a local Lord presided over the proceedings instead. But Reuben didn’t even glance at him or care to remember his name. He only had eyes for the woman sitting beside the man. She wasn’t wearing a veil today, so her beauty shone uninhibited for all to see. Reuben was at once glad for it—the whole world should be illuminated by her aura!—and despised the fact that other men besides himself could see her.
Well…if things went as he planned, he would get to see parts of her that no other man had or ever would. His eyes narrowing, he glanced over at d’Altavilla. The Sicilian lord was looking back at him, the look on his face filled with intense loathing and, moreover, a deep-seated contempt.
We’ll see how long that will last.
~~*~~*
The boy was looking at him. D’Altavilla felt sullied by his gaze alone, but of course he didn’t look away. That would have looked like weakness, and he’d die before ever showing weakness in front of a stripling like that Reuben! God’s teeth! The boy was hardly old enough to be a knight! What fluke had allowed him to ascend to Champion d’Altavilla would never understand.
The first jousts were called, and together with the other waiting knights, d’Altavilla retreated from the center of the courtyard. His squire and his servant, Sergio, awaited him.