And for a few moments, they hesitated. Then they were off.
It was just G and the king, then, alone on this quest, and as the dirt path passed beneath them, G could not help the niggling memory that had been pricking at the back of his brain ever since they’d arrived at Helmsley. It was the image of his half-conscious wife pushing him out of the way so she could get to Edward. Yes, she had believed her cousin was dead, and it must have come as a happy shock to see him alive.
And yet, the niggling thought . . . well . . . niggled.
G remembered how close he’d been to losing her. How weak she’d been. How much blood she’d lost. It wasn’t until her eyes had fluttered open that G realized the hold she had on his heart.
But then she had stopped just short of shoving him out of the way because she’d seen Edward. It turned out that the most important person to her, the one she wanted to embrace upon defying death, was Edward. Her dearest and most beloved friend—wasn’t that how she’d phrased it in the letter?
Maybe hunting a legendary bear would be a welcome distraction from his thoughts, which he was sure were irrational. After all, Jane had never come right out and said that she was in love with Edward, and she was the type to tell him how things stood. And Gifford knew she was fond of him—he did. She smiled at him. She always hugged him after the change. She tried to translate his horse-thoughts to the others.
But she’d signed that letter to Edward with “all my love.”
Yes. Hunting bears. Right. Here they were.
But that niggling thought still niggled.
And of course he was happy that her dear cousin was alive, but it was also a bit troubling. After all, G knew from Edward’s pre-wedding talk, the one that went something like, “Hurt my cousin and I’ll kill you, even if I’m dead,” that Edward loved Jane, and maybe in more than a cousin kind of way. Perhaps he’d only betrothed Jane to G because he was dying, and now that he wasn’t dying, perhaps he regretted the arranged marriage, and perhaps Jane was thinking the same thing.
Oh Lord. Too many perhapses. Perhaps he should focus on how to kill a giant bear.
But then G wanted to ask Edward about his feelings toward Jane, and, more specifically, what the two of them did while he was a horse and they were alone and human.
G did not like to entertain the thought of all the hours they’d had to spend together while he was a horse. But he was the one who was actually married to Jane, he reminded himself. Not only that, but kestrels were hunting birds, and would no sooner hesitate to eat a ferret than they would a squirrel. There. G was her husband, and Edward might eat her. Those were two very good reasons why Jane should stay with G. And hair! G couldn’t believe he’d forgotten about his full and rich locks that outshone the sad ponytails of most other men in the kingdom. Even the king’s.
So, he was her husband, Edward might eat her, and no one’s hair could rival his.
G sighed. None of that could really compete with the King of England.
So instead of asking Edward those questions, he said, “Did Jane tell you all she knows about bears?”
“Yes,” the king replied. “Don’t act like food, inexplicably double your height and weight, and play dead unless it doesn’t work.”
“She didn’t, perhaps, mention how we might kill the beast?”
“No,” Edward said. “Her information was more the useless type.”
They traveled onward in silence for a while, until—
“Sire, you love Jane.” G hadn’t meant to blurt it out, but there it was.
“Of course I do. She’s family.”
“But you, Your Majesty, I think, love her love her.”
Edward didn’t protest, although he looked a little confused, possibly due to the phrasing.
G let the rest spill out. “And I know you arranged for our marriage at a time when you thought you would die, and now you’re not going to die, and if you want her for yourself, I will step aside. I will do the honorable thing.” His voice cracked in an embarrassing way at the end.
“Gifford,” the king said.
“Call me G,” G said.
The king ignored him. “Your wife loves you.”
G looked at the king and raised an eyebrow.
“She does. She leaves your favorite apples in the stables, even though she has to walk over a mile to get them. She brushes your mane, and is meticulous about picking the burrs out of your coat.”
“That’s all just logical horse maintenance.” G lowered his eyes. “She didn’t want me to be her king. She didn’t want me ruling by her side.”
“That was when she didn’t know who to trust. Believe me, Gifford, Jane loves you.”
G was silent for a moment, hoping it was true.
“At least, she loved you before you threw her in a cage.”