Ensnared (Knights of Brethren #3)(12)
The thought shouldn’t have brought me such intense satisfaction, but it did, nonetheless.
I finished the contents of my mug and pushed back from the table. Across from me, Torvald paused in breaking his fast. He eyed my untouched platter of oatcakes, thick brown goat cheese, and slices of ham. Then he quirked a brow at me.
“What?” I tried to keep my tone as nonchalant as possible. “After feasting late last night, I have no appetite.”
Having stabbed a piece of ham and cheese onto the tip of his knife, Torvald took a bite without saying anything. He needed only to raise his other brow and pierce me with his gray-blue eyes for me to know he didn’t believe me.
With his hulking frame, the scar on his cheek, and his brooding mannerisms, Torvald made an imposing figure. No one gave Torvald any trouble. In fact, most people revered him just about as much as they revered King Ansgar.
In spite of his severity—perhaps even because of it—he’d been a good traveling companion these past months. His strictness balanced out my lightheartedness. He was silent and contemplative compared to my being talkative and impulsive. He thought deeply, while I pushed him to action.
Although we worked well together, we’d failed thus far to uncover the whereabouts of the chalice. And although I hadn’t wanted to stay at Likness Castle with my brother—had suggested residing at one of the inns within the city—Torvald had convinced me that we couldn’t anger Bernhard by turning down his offer to be his guests for the duration of our sojourn in Romsdal. We needed to keep him as an ally.
“Who is she?” Torvald’s question was low and meant for my ears alone.
Even so, I glanced around the tables nearby to see who might be paying us heed. Thankfully, besides our squires and castle staff, the great hall was mostly deserted, since few guests were awake at the early hour.
“Believe it or not, there was no she last night.” I pretended to fasten the top button of my tight-fitting cotehardie, having shed my chain mail in favor of more civilized and colorful garments.
I’d long ago realized I could avoid Bernhard’s wrath by playing the role of the easy-going, troublemaking, womanizing brother. As such, I posed no threat to him. Thus last night, I’d spent most of the eve and well into the late hours resorting to my role as a ladies’ man, staying busy flirting and conversing with the women, letting Bernhard believe I was as wayward as always.
When I’d made my exit with a lovely noblewoman at my side, he’d grinned his approval. Today he’d likely learn I’d done nothing more than escort the woman to her door before bidding her goodnight.
Of course, I’d perfected my excuses to women for why I never got serious and never made promises. And if Bernhard asked, I’d have a ready excuse for him too.
I’d learned to maintain my reputation without giving away the truth—that I had no desire for any woman, save one.
“I own to the fact that I left the feast with a beauty,” I said. “But I was tired and didn’t pursue anything further.”
Torvald twisted his knife, peering at the remaining ham and cheese as if deciding which angle to devour next. More likely he was trying to decide if he believed me. After the past months of traveling together, he knew me better than most, that my womanizing was based on hearsay and nothing more. Though I flirted with maidens everywhere and stayed up too late, I never took advantage of the women and always returned to my room alone.
I stood and stretched, trying to remain casual, even though excitement thrummed louder with each passing moment at the prospect of seeing Mikaela again.
“The other beauty,” Torvald stated.
With my arms high above my head, I froze.
“Who is she?” This time he lifted his gaze to mine, the intensity piercing me.
Was he referring to Mikaela? Of course, he’d seen me send my squire after her yesterday. When I held back from returning to the castle with everyone else, perhaps he’d assumed I intended to follow her for myself.
If Torvald had so easily discovered my secret, how many others would?
’Twas best, as always, to downplay my feelings for Mikaela. Yet, Torvald wouldn’t be so easily deceived. I would have to give him some information or draw more suspicion.
I lowered my arms and shrugged. “She’s a childhood companion.”
From the moment Mikaela had entered the nursery as a young girl to work with Nanna, I’d been smitten with her. At first, Nanna had been nervous about us playing together and forming a friendship, and she’d gone out of her way to keep Mikaela too busy for me.
But I’d managed to sneak around behind Nanna’s back, until the day I brought Mikaela one of the kittens from the stables, the tiny gray-and-white one she’d adored and played with every chance she could get.
At the sight of the kitten in the nursery, Nanna had asked all kinds of questions and learned we were spending time together. Nanna had given us each a firm scolding and told me Mikaela was someone I could never have as a friend or anything else. At the time, I hadn’t known what she meant, and her words had only stirred the desire to have Mikaela even more.
Eventually, Nanna had given up trying to keep us apart and allowed us to spend endless hours together. She’d been busy with my little sister Viola, and Mikaela had kept me occupied. I suppose she’d known I would eventually leave and that our friendship would come to an end.
“That’s why you were quiet on the ride here.” Torvald studied my face as though solving a riddle. “You were thinking about her.”