When Hadrian returned later that day, Ibis Thinly was waiting with more than just a plate. The entire table was laden with a variety of meats, cheeses, and breads. The scullery had been cleaned such that extra sacks were removed, shelves dusted, and the floor mopped. The table was set with fresh candles, and a larger, cushioned chair replaced the little stool. He guessed not all of this was strictly Ibis’s doing. Apparently, word of his visit had spread. Twice as many servants populated the kitchen as had that morning—most standing idle.
Ibis did not speak to Hadrian this time. The cook was feverishly busy dealing with the flood of game brought in by nobles returning from the hunt. Already maids were plucking away at quail, pheasant, and duck from a long line of beheaded birds that was strung around the room like a garland. With so much to process, even Ibis himself skinned rabbits and squirrels. Despite his obvious urgency, the cook immediately stopped working when Amilia arrived.
“Ibis! Look! I got two!” she shouted, holding the birds above her head. She entered the kitchen dressed in a lovely white gown and matching fur cape.
“Bring them here, lass. Let me see these treasures.”
Hadrian had seen Lady Amilia from a distance at each of the feasts, but this was the first time he had seen her up close since he had posed as a courier. She was prettier than he remembered. Her clothes were certainly better. Whether it was the spring in her step or the flush in her cheeks brought on by the cold, she appeared more alive.
“These are clearly the pick of the lot,” Ibis said after inspecting her trophies.
“They’re scrawny and small, but they’re mine!” She followed the declaration with a carefree, happy laugh.
“Can I infer from your mood that you did not hunt alone?”
Amilia said nothing and merely smiled. Clasping her hands behind her back, she sashayed about the kitchen, swinging her skirt.
“Come now, girl. Don’t toy with me.”
She laughed again, spun around, and announced, “He was at my side almost the whole day. A perfect gentleman, I might add, and I think…” She hesitated.
“Think what? Out with it, lass.”
“I think he may fancy me.”
“Bah! Of course he fancies you. But what did the man say? Did he speak plainly? Did he spout verse? Did he kiss you right there on the field?”
“Kiss me? He’s far too proper for such vulgarity, but he was very nervous… silly, even. And he couldn’t seem to take his eyes off me!”
“Silly? Sir Breckton? Ah, lass, you’ve got him hooked. You have. A fine catch, I must say, a fine catch indeed.”
Amilia could not contain herself and laughed again, this time throwing back her head in elation and twirling her gown. Doing so, she caught sight of Hadrian and halted.
“Sorry, I’m just having a late lunch,” he said. “I’ll be gone in a minute.”
“Oh no. You don’t have to leave. It’s just that I didn’t see you. Other than the staff, I’m the only one who ever comes down here—or so I thought.”
“It’s more comfortable than the hall,” Hadrian said. “I spend my days tilting with the knights. I don’t feel like competing with them at meals too.”
She walked over, looking puzzled. “You don’t talk like a knight.”
“That’s Sir Hadrian,” Ibis informed Amilia.
“Oh!” she exclaimed. “You helped Sir Breckton and my poor Nimbus when they were attacked. That was very kind. You’re also the one who rode in the tournament without a helm. You’ve—you’ve unseated every opponent on the first pass and haven’t had a single lance broken on your shield. You’re… very good, aren’t you?”
“And he’s riding against Sir Breckton tomorrow for the championship,” Ibis reminded her.
“That’s right!” She gasped, raising a hand to her lips. “Have you ever been unseated?”
Hadrian shrugged self-consciously. “Not since I’ve been a knight.”
“Oh, I wasn’t—I didn’t mean to—I just wondered if it hurt terribly. I guess it can’t feel good. Even with all that armor and padding, being driven from a galloping horse by a pole must not be pleasant.” Her eyes grew troubled. “But all the other knights are fine, aren’t they? I saw Sir Murthas and Sir Elgar on the hawking just today. They were trotting and laughing, so I’m certain everything will be all right no matter who wins.
“I know tomorrow is the final tilt and winning the tournament is a great honor. I understand firsthand the desire to prove yourself to those who look down on you. But I ask you to consider that Sir Breckton is a good man—a very good man. He would never hurt you if he could help it. I hope you feel the same.” She struggled to smile at Hadrian.
He put down the bread he was eating as a sickening sensation churned his stomach. Hadrian had to stop eating in the kitchen.