Broken Dove (Fantasyland #4)(23)

She lifted her hand and gave them an enthusiastic wave.

And, damn it all, along with Derrik, he lifted his hand and waved back.

* * * * *

Laures

Laures turned his steed and dug his heels in so the horse was at a gallop.

When he did, he saw Maddie—what they now called Ilsa instead of “madam” so they didn’t have to address her formally nor call her by her twin’s name. Her skirts were lifted in one hand, her parasol in the other bobbing over her head, her feet taking her across the arena toward him, her glorious hair streaming out behind her.

At the sight, he forgot the pain the blows he took from his competitor’s blunt sword caused and he grinned.

She came to a teetering halt beside him as he pulled up his reins and she lifted her free hand high, palm facing him, while crying, “You won!”

He had.

How he got entered in the games they’d happened on, he didn’t know. Then again, as they rode over Fleuridia, they’d stayed for a fayre in Aisles they were not scheduled to attend. And also, after they crossed into Hawkvale, they’d been roped into attending a sheep shearing festival in Drinton upon which they had no time to waste. But they did.

“Don’t leave me hanging!” she exclaimed.

“Pardon?” he asked.

She shook her hand in the air. “High five!”

He stared down at her having no idea what she was on about.

She dropped her parasol unheeded to the ground, reached out, grabbed his gloved hand from his thigh and moved it to smack it against her hand.

“High five,” she declared. She moved her hand low, palm facing up and slapped his hand against it again. “Low five.” She turned her hand sideways, slapped his hand against it one more time and stated, “To the side.” Lastly, she curled her hand around his, the juncture of her thumb connected to his, her fingers curled around and she pumped their hands back and forth, saying excitedly, “You the man!”

It was one of her world things, of which they’d been learning many, some of them amusing, all of them fantastical.

He grinned at her again.

“You won!” Alek yelled, and Laures looked up, still holding Maddie’s hand, to see all the men had gathered around. “That means you’ll have to enter the arena tomorrow for the championship!”

He would indeed.

“I’ll send Apollo a missive and tell him we’ll be at least another week,” Hans muttered, breaking off from the huddle and striding away.

Laures looked from Hans to Maddie and bent deep. He let go of her hand but wrapped his arm around her waist and pulled her on his horse before him.

“Fancy a victory lap, sweets?” he asked.

She’d turned her head and he watched her eyes light as she nodded happily.

He bent deep into her, dug his heels in his horse’s flanks and took off.

When he did, the peel of Maddie’s laughter rang through the arena, and as it did, it warmed Laures’ heart.

Then again, anytime Maddie laughed, it warmed his heart.

* * * * *

Achilles

“So, as you can guess from the end of the story, it wasn’t all that great, living in my world,” Maddie murmured her understatement, her eyes on the ground, her fingers tugging at blades of grass and distractedly tossing them away.

She was lying on the soft turf on her side but up on an elbow, head in her hand, legs curled around, the toes of blue satin slippers peeking out from beneath her lavender skirts. The detritus of their luncheon was spread across the blanket some feet away from their trio.

Derrik sat on his arse across from her, legs bent at the knees, weight back on his hands behind him.

Achilles sat with his back against a tree trunk, one knee up. He’d laid his wrist on his knee, hand dangling. His other leg was stretched out.

Both men’s eyes were on Maddie.

The sun was shining and they had stopped riding to take lunch. They were two days’ journey from the port city in Hawkvale where they’d board the ship to Lunwyn. The other men were inspecting the steeds in preparation to ride on. The men’s belongings being few (save weapons, which they carried on their persons), Maddie’s much more abundant belongings were separated amongst the saddlebags of their nine horses.

They should have taken a carriage but Apollo instructed they not. A carriage was much slower going. It would delay their return by some time.

In the end, however, their return had been delayed by a lot longer than a carriage would have done it. And Achilles had no doubt that Apollo’s wish for them to arrive at Karsvall without delay going unheeded would not make his cousin happy.

Achilles wasn’t thinking about this.

He was thinking about what Maddie had just told them, the sun and wine at lunch perhaps loosening her tongue.

However, it was more likely that she had just become comfortable enough with them to share. It was impossible on a long ride such as theirs not to bond with those around you, spending day in and day out with them. And they’d had quite a number of days together, and adventures.

But with Maddie, the way she was, the sadness constantly lurking in her eyes, the joy she allowed to show openly coating it, it was impossible not to bond.

There was something about her which made a man wish to watch over her. There was something else about her that made a man wish to get to know her, prod under a veneer Achilles was certain she thought was a shield, but didn’t understand it was flimsy. It made a man wish to dig dipper and discover what lay beneath.