Kay looked over Galeron with a careful eye, her feet tucked beneath her, watching as he went over his detailed notes yet again with her sister. She listened as the words rolled out of his mouth, as he detailed the pounds of lard, the quantity of wood beams, the man hours of effort that would go into making the Serenor Keep come up to his standards.

He was certainly a handsome man, she determined, taking a sip of her ale. His jet black curls hung almost in ringlets around his face, and his dark eyes were sharp, engaged in their task. His red cloak cascaded over his wide shoulders, catching on one side where his sword hung. His hands were steady and sure as they flipped through the pages in his codex.

Galeron would certainly be good with the details, with tracking the harvest and ensuring every last grain of wheat was accounted for. Logically, this should make her content.

“Kay? I am leaving now …” Galeron was standing, smiling down at her, and she blushed. Apparently she had lost track of time, become unaware of the goodbyes which had been going on before her.

“Yes, of course,” she replied with a smile. “Enjoy your morning ride.”

He swept down a bow toward her, then one toward the black curtain, and in a moment he had strolled out the door. To Kay’s surprise, Reese did not come sauntering in at the same time, and her heart tightened. She forced herself to laugh, to shrug off the sensation. He would be here soon. With the contest coming down to only the two men, it was natural that the schedule would be off a little.

Em’s voice floated through the curtain wall. “So, we have a pair of final contenders,” she commented quietly, her usual levity tempered by a note of seriousness. “Things become far more difficult.”

Kay leant back on the couch, tension settling into her shoulders. “The two men both have admirable traits, both seem perfectly suited in some ways.” She glanced up toward the curtain. “I know you, with your logical mind. You would argue in favor of Galeron.”

There was a long pause. “I admit, there is a lot to be said for someone who pays attention to the details, who can ensure that nothing is overlooked,” admitted Em thoughtfully. “We are talking about the safety of almost a hundred people, after all. It is an awesome responsibility.”

Kay looked down at her metal goblet, turning it slowly in her hands. “And yet,” she responded wistfully, “I cannot help but remember that night in the torrential rainstorm. Galeron was logical, analytical, and he would have saved the mother horse while abandoning the foal. He made the calculation and came up with the odds. While Reese -”

Em’s voice was quiet, holding a note of caution. “Reese risked your life,” she reminded her sister.

Kay shook her head, her gaze lost in the memory. “Reese stood by me,” she countered. “Reese was there when I needed him. Reese did not waver, or argue, or quote Bible passages, or count the odds. He simply stood by me.” She looked up at the dark curtain, her eyes looking through its thick layers, making that connection with her sibling beyond. “And, God as my witness, when he caught me in his arms -”

There was a clearing of a throat behind her, and Kay felt as if her face had suddenly caught on fire, as if the candles on the shelf had melted their wax and soaked into her skin. Reese walked in through the door, and she turned her head to her ale, taking in a long drink, reaching to refill it. She did not glance over again until he had settled himself into his seat, had faced himself at the long, black curtain wall.

Em’s voice was steady when it came out from the ebony depths. “So, Reese, now we are down to two. Galeron engaged us with a thorough listing of what Serenor needs in order to be up to his specifications. What shall we talk of with you?”

His mouth quirked into a soft smile. “I suppose we could talk about the many ways in which Serenor is perfect just the way it is.”

Kay’s heart leapt, and her eyes automatically went to meet his. Warmth swept through her, imbued her toes, her fingers, soaked into her spine and radiated out until every part of her felt as if she were glowing. She knew it, suddenly, as an absolute reality.

She wanted him to win.

Reese looked away suddenly, and she flushed, confused, drawing herself back to just where she was, what was going on. She could not let emotions cloud her judgment. She had to objectively figure out what was best for the keep.

Reese’s voice had a tinge of hoarseness as he asked Em, “Can I ask what is likely to happen next? Once you choose one of the candidates, I mean.”

There was a short pause, then Em replied, “I suppose that is a fair enough question, now that we are down to the end.” Another pause, and when Em spoke again her voice had shades of embarrassment in it. “I will confess that my father is rather stodgy in some regards,” she admitted. “Once the engagement is agreed on, he wants word to be sent immediately – that very minute – so he can come and oversee the arrangements. The messenger will leave this keep and arrive back home within the day. That would mean he would arrive – with the remaining Serenor troops as well as his own retinue – the following evening.”

Reese’s eyes twinkled, and he nodded. “I am not unfamiliar with that mindset,” he agreed. “My elder brother has made me swear, on my honor, that, should I be accepted, that I send word that very minute to him. And if things do not work out, I myself must instantly head out to ride home and inform him personally of my failings.”

Kay glanced at the curtains for a moment. “Elder siblings can certainly be demanding at times,” she huffed quietly.

Reese became solemn. “I do not begrudge my brother his ownership of the estate; it is the way these things go. Zeke has always been a role model for me to look up to. He has managed our home with fairness and compassion.” He looked down to the leather pouch which hung on his belt. “And he surprised me beyond words with his generosity.”

Kay found herself leaning forward. “Oh?”

Reese nodded, fingering the belt. “My mother passed away when we were young, after a lingering disease. Everything she owned became part of the estate, became the possessions of my brother and his wife. And yet, when he heard I was to come out here to vie for the hand of the Serenor maiden, he gifted me with her most precious possession. An intricately worked necklace.”

Kay nodded in understanding. “And that is why he wants to hear the resolution, or have you return.”

Reese’s eyes came up to meet hers, and she was lost in them, drawn inexorably by the depth of their pull. It was a physical loss when he turned away, aligned to face the curtain again.

“Yes,” he agreed quietly, “this necklace means a great deal to both of us. It was my mother’s favorite item, one she wore daily. If it is not to go on the neck of the mistress of Serenor, it needs to promptly return to a safe location. I swore an oath to my brother, and I will stand by that.”

Em’s voice was somber. “I would hope none would stand in your way.”

A knife twisted in Kay’s stomach. Standing in the way of Reese leaving? She stood up suddenly, turning toward the window, and then Reese was at her side, his eyes gazing down on hers.

“Are you all right?” he asked with concern.

Kay starting to shake her head, then caught herself and nodded. “I am just hungry,” she deferred, her emotions in turmoil. “Perhaps if we went down early for lunch?”

Reese held out his hand. “Yes, certainly,” he agreed, glancing back at the curtain. “Until tomorrow, then, Keren-happuch?”

“Enjoy your lunch,” agreed Em’s voice, but Kay barely heard it as she moved across the solar and down the smooth stone steps toward the main hall.

 

* * *

 

Galeron was already sitting at the head table as they moved through the main dining hall. He was scribbling notes on his tablet, but he glanced up as they approached and tucked it away with a smile, putting out a welcoming arm.

“You are down early!” he grinned. “All the better, for the soup is almost ready! Here, sit down and enjoy.” He motioned toward the two chairs beside him.

Kay allowed Reese to pull out the middle chair, and settled herself into it as he seated himself on her other side. In a moment Anne and Jessica had brought out fresh bread, dill butter, and a plate of sliced cucumbers.

“To decisions!” called out Galeron with a smile, and Kay and Reese joined in the toast, but Kay’s heart tightened with the clinking action, with the long, hard pull she made to her ale. Decisions were getting harder, were threatening to pull her heart and her soul apart.

Galeron’s steady voice dripped into her awareness. “So, Kay, what is the nature of a decision to you? What if there are two choices, and there is no clear cut answer?”

Kay took another long pull on the ale, and Anne was at her side, refilling her tankard as if by magic. “There is always an answer,” murmured Kay, staring down into her dark brew.

“Ah,” chuckled Galeron, “But sometimes perhaps there are multiple questions. What is best for Situation X? What is best for Situation Y?”

Kay took up her knife, taking a long draw on the dill infused butter, making a show of smearing every last bit of the bread in her hand with the yellow substance. Galeron was right, of course. If the question was who was the logical choice for managing the exact operations of the keep, she might be forced to say Galeron had the qualifications. She ate deliberately at the bread, then took a handful of the cucumber slices and worked on those. Galeron had tallied the issues to fix. He had paid attention to the weak chains and the worn links. His knowledge would be invaluable.

She reached for another roll. Reese’s hand was there, and she glanced up at him, her heart catching. He placed a roll in her hand, and she barely felt it, so lost was she in his eyes. Were they sea grey, or the blue of the sky in winter, the soul of Serenor?

She shook herself, returning her gaze to the table, breaking apart the roll, buttering it with deliberation, eating it piece by piece.

Could she be that selfish, to choose based on the yearnings of her heart, no matter how strong they were? Could she risk the lives of a hundred good men and women, all to satisfy her own childish needs for affection?

Galeron’s voice came low in her ear. “It is hard, sometimes, to reconcile between what is best for your purposes, and what is best for your needs.”

Kay looked up at that, and saw he was serious, that his eyes held a glimpse of a hard truth she had not noticed before. She turned to Reese, and saw his eyes had the same firm cast, that the discussion had struck him to the core as well.

Kay could not take it any more. She pushed her chair back, and both men stood as she did.

“I need to go to the courtyard,” she said without thinking. She flushed once the words had come to her mouth. She craved the exercise, the action that she normally found in her swordplay with the soldiers here and at her father’s home. She could not do that here, not with Galeron and Reese attentive, but it was too late to draw back her words. She turned and moved quickly through the crowd, down the staircase and out the main doors to where the soldiers were moving through their routines.

Galeron and Reese were at her shoulder in a moment, looking over the group of men with interest. Galeron’s tablet came to his hand as if by levitation. “Ah, excellent,” he commented. “I will be able to enumerate their strengths and weaknesses.”

Kay took another step forward, sweeping her hands through her hair. Strengths and weaknesses. She saw none of that. She saw her friends, her companions she had grown up with, swinging their swords in unison, now drawing them high into a guard to the left, now stepping forward to block a low cut. Desire carved through her, to join them, to lose herself in that familiar routine, to shed off the worries and decisions and confusions of the past week and just be as she had always been. To immerse herself in the meditation, to forward step, the lunge to the right, the pivot -

Jevan stepped before the group of men and held up his hands. “Very good,” he called out. “Divide up into pairs, and for today we will work on fast, high attacks.” In a moment the men were dodging and slicing, shedding blows and spinning to counter-attack. Kay’s longing almost overwhelmed her core. If only she could join them for a few moments -

A small, pink shape darted out from the right side, and Kay cried out in disbelief. Molly, her red curls bouncing, had raced into the center of the fighting men, laughing with glee, chasing a tiny fuzzball of grey and white.

“Molly!” cried out Kay in panic, diving forward, grunting in shock and disbelief as a strong, unmoving arm clamped down hard around her stomach.

Galeron’s voice was implacable at her ear. “Hold on there, you fool!” he chided her. “This is a man’s work.”

Outrage filled every aspect of her core, but before she could turn to argue, a blur was dodging through the fighters. In a moment Reese had reached the child, had snagged her and the kitten and drawn them up in a safe embrace.

Javan looked around in confusion. “Hold!” he cried out. “What is that?”

Reese held up the child. “I have her, you can continue.” He worked his way back over to the side of the courtyard.

Kay’s heart pounded, and she ripped away Galeron’s arm from her chest, a mixture of frustration and fury threatening to sweep her away. She dropped down to one knee, rousing her attention to focus on Molly, to draw her from Reese’s protective embrace into a warm hug.

“You silly girl, what did you think you were doing?” she asked, looking down at the innocent face.

“Kitty!” announced Molly with a bright smile, nuzzling the fuzzy ball in her arms.

Galeron shook his head with amusement. “Little girl, you must learn that swords and armor are no place for a female! Stay safe with your dolls and kitties in the keep.”

Molly gave a short curtsey. “Yes, uncle Galeron,” she responded dutifully, then giggled and raced up the stairs in through the main doors.

Kay glanced from Galeron to Reese, from Galeron’s satisfied smile to the twinkle in Reese’s eye. She looked again into the large, solid doors of the keep, closing behind Molly’s small hand. The women were safely within, the men ringing sword on sword without. Her heart plummeted. No matter who she chose, she would have to leave her passion for swords and self-sufficiency behind. She was only a girl. There was no place for her to have both a husband and a sword in her hand. Neither of them would accept it.

She found herself striding, then running, and she was up the steps to the wall, moving along the path, circling to the back, where she could stare out at the ocean, mourning the loss of one of her dearest dreams.

 

* * *

 

The sky was tingeing in cascades of oranges and saffron colors when Jevan came up beside her. He offered her a roll, and she grabbed it from him, wolfed it down in about five seconds, her stomach rumbling.

“I had not realized it was so late,” she admitted, as she reached for the second roll he held in his other hand. “Is dinner already over?”

Jevan smiled fondly. “I am sure they put a plate aside for you,” he responded. He handed her the skin at his belt, and she gratefully drew down the ale within.

Jevan waited until she had finished before continuing, more quietly, “There is a tough choice ahead; I understand that.”

Kay looked out over the ocean, as she had been doing for the past hours, drawn into the ebb and flow of the waves. She thought of the longings which filled her heart – and of the needs of the keep around her. The duties of her station and the desires of her soul seemed at war.

She shook her head and turned to look at Jevan. “Jevan, can we talk a moment of Sarah, your wife?”

Jevan nodded, his face becoming more serious.

Kay looked down for a moment. “I know it is still hard for you, even after two years. We all mourned when Sarah died during childbirth. She was a wonderful friend.”

Jevan smiled slightly, holding her gaze. “I have sworn to keep Sarah’s memory alive for Joey and Paul,” he responded quietly. “They only had a few years with her, so it is my duty to ensure they know what an amazing mother they had. That they know everything there is to understand about her.”

Kay lent against the crenellated stone wall, the cool breezes rising as the sun slipped beneath the horizon. Her voice, when she spoke again, was as soft as the wind which slipped along the castle wall.

“How did you know?”

Jevan nodded slowly, his gaze unfocusing. “There were women who were more beautiful, who had hair that shone like burnt gold, whose lips were like ripe plums. But I looked at them and I knew that charms fade, that beauty slips away, and that any attractions of lust of eyes are of the moment only.”

His voice became quieter. “There were women who were more adept at alluring talents – who told sweeter tales, who designed snares and nets woven from words. But those talents are made for courting and rarely last beyond the threshold of commitment.”

He looked down at his hands, rubbing a finger along the gold band which still adorned his finger, almost caressing it. “What sustains a couple through ice-enshrined winters and through sultry summers, through the parched deserts and the stormy seas, is an absolute trust in each other, and a friendship which backs each other up without question.”

Kay felt her friend’s loss as a wound in her own heart, and she put a hand on his arm. “It must be hard to be without her,” she offered softly.

Jevan’s head dropped, and she saw his eyes fill with tears. “It is something you grow to accept, never something you get over,” he responded, his voice ragged. “It was months before I gave up hope that somehow she would return to me.”

Kay stood holding his arm for long minutes before he drew his sleeve across his face, looking back up at her.

“Your sister would say to go with the logical choice,” he commented finally, his voice still rough.

Kay chuckled wryly. “You know her well,” she agreed. “And for Keren-happuch, perhaps those are words of wisdom. She needs a man who can fortify the keep, who can detail the ounces of ale and servings of cod.”

Jevan’s voice was soft. “But for you, Kay, what is it that you long for?”

Kay turned, her heart aching, staring out at the rolling sea, at the movement of waves beneath the mother of pearl moon as it shimmered into life in the onyx sky.

“God, Jevan, it is so much more than a longing, it is a craving, a cascading desire that saturates every corner of my being -”

His arm came around her, and he pulled her close, pressing a fond kiss against her forehead. “Ah, my child,” he offered gently, “then you should tell him.”

There was a movement behind them, and Kay pulled apart, turning to see who approached. Reese stood there, a pair of rosy red apples in one hand, a jug of ale in the other, his face lost in the shadows.

Kay’s heart leapt into her chest. Had she said anything to compromise her sister? Just what had they been talking about? Her mind raced over the topics, Jevan’s wife, his sense of loss. Perhaps she was safe?

“Thank you,” she choked out, taking the fruit. Jevan accepted the pottery jug, and then Reese was turning, fading into the deep darkness of the night, and was gone.