Cursed by Bandits (Once Upon A Curse)

28. Chapter Twenty-Eight

Chapter Twenty-Eight

R ubbing the sleep from my eyes, I looked around expecting to see my bedroom, but instead I was looking at the white canvas of a tent. I snuggled farther into my bedroll, the leaf-covered ground softer than I would have expected. Icy fingers of cold air slipped around the blankets I had tucked around my body as a shield against the autumnal chill, finding cracks in the woolen armor I didn’t know were there. The cold settled into my already sore muscles, forcing me to accept my fate. I was not going to be able to sleep any longer .

As I left the cocoon of my tent, the soft hues of morning could be seen through the naked branches above me. My head tilted back as I took a deep breath, filling my lungs with fresh frigidness. The warm rays of the sun caressed my cheeks, and I opened my eyes to see the pinks of dawn were shifting to the golden light of morning. The sense of duty that had momentarily disappeared rushed back. I had to get back to the keep for breakfast with my uncle.

Gathering the few items I had brought with me last night, I dressed quickly, not bothering with binding my chest since I would have to change into Lady Rowan as soon as possible. A breeze ruffled through the red and orange leaves on the trees, causing my teeth to chatter uncontrollably as the cold air bit at my skin. Jane was still asleep, her form bundled tight in her bedroll. My eyes took in the rest of the camp. Funny, Milo was already gone. The thought flitted through my brain as quickly as it had come before I tiptoed out of the clearing and made my way through the forest with the ease born from familiarity. The path to the keep was serene, basking in the early morning light; the entire place was still, a stunning contrast to what the area would be in just a few hours after the day’s activities began.

As I approached the heavy gate to the keep, I slowed my pace, looking around for anyone that might report me to my uncle. I didn’t see anyone. The last thing I wanted to do was get caught sneaking back in. It would only raise unnecessary suspicions and garner attention I didn’t want. I scurried along the side of the building and entered through a side door, then took the stairs two at a time until I could run down the hall to my chambers.

I breathed a sigh of relief when I saw Winnie there, waiting with a dress already laid out for me.

“You’re cutting it awful close, miss. I was starting to worry you wouldn’t make it to brekkie with your uncle,” the maid scolded.

I smiled back at her as I made my way to the dressing screen. The unexpected support of my lady’s maid warmed my heart, releasing some of the tension I had been carrying with me for the past few weeks. “I didn’t mean to make you worry. I’ll be sure to plan better from here on out.” I shimmied out of my clothes from the night before and bent down to pet Rogue while I waited for my outfit. “What have you picked out for me today?”

“I thought the teal wool with the burnt orange overcoat looked ever so regal.” She tossed the dress over the screen.

I slipped the dress on, appreciating the softness of the wool and its warmth. “I love this combination. Can you be sure to hide some of Master Robin’s clothes for me? Somewhere near the stables. Erin will be around to show you exactly where.”

“Of course Lady Rowan. Whatever you need.” She moved about the room, picking up some of the disaster that I left in my wake.

I slid into the overcoat and put on the heavy jewelry and crown Winnie had picked out for me. Rogue’s paws slapped the stone floor as she walked away and jumped onto the bed. The pup curled into a ball as I looked over my costume with a critical eye.

“What do you think?” I twirled. “Will it do?”

Winnie looked me over with a critical eye. “Your da would be so proud of you.” She sniffed. “Now go, don’t keep Laird Jonathan waiting.”

I turned as my eyes filled with tears, not wanting Winnie to see the grief that suddenly overcame me at her thoughtful words. A few tears escaped before I wiped them away with the hem of my sleeve. I pushed thoughts of my father away as much as I could. Jane said she would look into the letter the nurse wrote and I believed her. Not only that, I needed to let someone else work through that mystery while I focused on my multiple personas and winning the tournament.

Standing outside the doors to the dining hall, a shiver coursed down my spine. I wanted to turn and run, do anything but sit through another meal waiting for my uncle to yell that he had figured it all out and was locking me up. Instead, I pushed open the doors.

My uncle, seated at his usual spot, looked at me with narrowed eyes as I entered. “Good morning, Rowan,” he greeted, his tone neutral but his gaze sharp.

“Good morning, Uncle,” I replied, my lips turning up into a smile that never reached my eyes. “I trust you slept well?”

“Well enough.” His mustache twitched as he continued to watch my every move from underneath his bushy eyebrows. “And you?”

“I slept soundly.” It was a good thing he didn’t ask where I slept, just how. “The festival kept me busy yesterday. By the end of the day, I could barely stay awake.”

He nodded, each word I said seeming to lessen the suspicion I saw in his eyes. “There’s more going on today than yesterday. The competitors are very talented, and many eyes will be watching.”

“I’m excited to see as many matches as I possibly can,” I said with excitement as my mind wondered how I was going to balance being seen as Lady Rowan and as Master Robin.

“See that you do,” he replied .

As breakfast continued, I played the part of the dutiful niece my uncle believed me to be, murmuring in agreement when it was necessary to do so while my mind ran through what events I had to win, how to score the most points, the events I would struggle with, and how I was going to appear as Lady Rowan throughout the day to keep my uncle’s suspicions at bay. Every step mattered, and I couldn’t afford any missteps.

“Did you see Prince Connor lost to some unknown yesterday?”

My hand twitched, knocking over the goblet in front of me. The amber liquid inside spilled over the table. I gulped. “I’m so sorry, I don’t know what happened.” I patted the table dry, waving away servers, while my uncle looked on, scorn written in every crease across his forehead. “I saw the match. It was an impressive fight.”

“Interesting, I didn’t see you there.” My uncle’s words worried me more than anything else that had happened at this table.

My opponent and I shook hands to signify the end of the sword event. As I walked off the field, I couldn’t help but think about the match in my head. It didn’t go as well as I had hoped, ending in a draw. It wasn’t the worst outcome, but it still had me reliving every move, every missed opportunity. I knew I had to let it go so I could focus on the upcoming events. My disappointment clung to me, sticking to my soul like tree sap.

Milo was there, waiting for me. I hadn’t seen him at all during the match, but there he was, ready to lift my spirits after what felt like letting down everyone depending on me.

He reached for my hands, then let them drop to his side as he remembered who I was right now. His eyes raked over me, the look he gave me a mixture of concern and encouragement. “You did well, Robin,” he said, placing a reassuring hand on my shoulder. “A draw isn’t a loss. You’ve still got this.”

It was like he could read my thoughts. Maybe not all of them, but the ones that were currently racing through my head over and over again .

I nodded, forcing a smile. “I know. It’s just . . . I need to win.”

“And you will,” he said firmly. “Don’t let what you can’t change affect your other events. You’re an amazing archer and your quarterstaff skills are unmatched. Focus on those skills. Leave what’s done behind you, especially since there’s nothing you can do to change it.”

Taking a deep breath, I listened to what he was saying, trying to take it in and let my loss . . . tie . . . roll off me. Milo was correct. I couldn’t afford to dwell on what was done. I needed to focus on what came next and use every opportunity left to prove myself.

The archery event was next, but it wasn’t for a couple of hours. With that much time in between events I had to change into Lady Rowan and make sure my uncle saw me at the tournament, interacting with the other competitors.

“I need to change into Lady Rowan, maybe even run into my uncle at some point.” I increased my pace until I was almost running to the stables. “Or maybe I should sit with him during the joust.”

I could feel Milo following me, even though he didn’t say anything as we made our way through the crowd.

The stable doors loomed ahead and I wanted nothing more than to run the rest of the way. Milo’s hand on my shoulder tempered my pace slightly .

“Easy, there’s time.” He walked next to me like there was nothing in the world that could make him move faster.

I sighed. As much as I hated to admit it, he was right: rushing would only draw more attention. I forced myself to slow down, concentrating on how my body moved as I put one foot in front of the other. Were my hips swaying too much or had I actually mastered the loping walk I enjoyed watching? Together, we entered the stables. Milo stood guard as I changed in Artie’s stall. Thankfully, the horse was used to a bit of commotion.

My transformation was quick but meticulous. Gone was the rough, practical attire of Master Robin, replaced by the elegant, teal and burnt orange wool of Lady Rowan from this morning. Jane’s handiwork was impeccable. She had somehow found time to embroider beautiful knot work on the overcoat. Details like that were something my uncle was sure to notice, and they helped me shift my demeanor. I could feel it happen as the dress settled on me. The weight of the crown on my head also helped remind me of the role I was playing and the reason behind it.

Once I was ready, Milo let out a low whistle. His eyes sparkled with appreciation. “You are stunning, I wish I . . . Get out there and show everyone who you are. It won’t be long until they all appreciate you as much as I do. ”

I took a deep breath, squaring my shoulders. Together, we made our way back to the tournament grounds, Milo walking half a step behind me. I couldn’t tell if it was my imagination, but the crowd seemed to part in front of me, leaving a path directly to the arena where the joust was being held. The area was already buzzing with excitement, the crowd eagerly awaiting the next match. I spotted my uncle up in the grandstand sitting on his throne, his eyes scanning the crowd.

When the crowd noticed me walk towards the grandstand, they fell silent. It wasn’t what I wanted, but I accepted the attention as if it was my due, waving to my people as I passed them.

The entire way, I could feel my uncle’s eyes on me, following every single movement. I forced a smile, nodding slightly as I made my way to his side. “Hello, Uncle. The tournament is quite the spectacle. There are so many events to watch. How do you choose?”

He bowed his head ever so slightly, his expression a mix of suspicion and something akin to pride, which was shocking, to say the least. “Indeed, it is. And you, my dear niece, seem to be enjoying yourself.”

“I am,” I replied, keeping my tone light. “It’s a wonderful opportunity to meet so many skilled competitors.”

His eyes narrowed slightly, but he said nothing more. I took a seat next to him, engaging in small talk and observing the joust. My heart raced with each passing moment, but I maintained my composure. For the next event the competitors were Jocelin Montfort and . . . Milo? Why hadn’t he told me he was competing today?

I scootched forward in my seat, completely forgetting about the man next to me watching my every movement. Will held the reins as Milo mounted his horse, weighed down by his armor. Or so he should have been. Instead, he mounted as if there was no extra weight holding him down. The thought that he had invented something lighter skitted through my brain as the first squire stepped into the field.

Introductions were made, and the white flag dropped. I held my breath until the first round was over. Both competitors were still on their horses, but Milo’s lance had glanced off Montfort’s armor, giving him the point for this round. For the next two rounds, I could barely breathe as I watched the event unfold. Montfort’s lance broke, almost knocking Milo off his horse. But Milo held on for dear life. It gave Montfort the upper hand going into the final round. I waited for the last round, barely able to breathe as the white flag dropped and the mounted men raced towards each other. Milo’s form looked good until his shoulder dropped back ever so slightly. I hoped the sheriff wouldn’t notice, but my hope was in vain. Montfort broke his lance again, sending Milo flying off his horse. I wanted to run down to him; I would have, but my uncle’s hand was on my shoulder, pressing me back into my seat. His fingers dug into my skin in a way that I knew would leave a mark.

Montfort stopped in front of the grandstand. Raising his visor, he smiled at me. It felt more like a threat than a welcoming gesture.

“This win is for you, Lady Rowan, and the honor of becoming your husband.”

I stared at him, not acknowledging his words. Over my dead body would he become my husband. I would marry, whether it was for love or duty, but my husband would be of my choice. I refused to be a trophy.