“Does that worry you?”
“Yes.”
“I’ll have to be very careful, then.”
Romero jumped over a large tree root, and I bounced crazily in the saddle. Branford held me close to keep me from falling right off his steed. We rode in silence for some time through the woods, only stopping briefly as Romero took a drink from a stream, which we then crossed as water splashed all around us. After we crossed the water, we started up another steep hill and through a very thick part of the forest. The trees were wide and tall, and only a very small amount of sunshine made its way to the forest floor. The ground was thick with ferns and moss.
“Hold on,” Branford said. The warm breath from his words coated my ear. I gripped his arm around my waist and he kicked the horse’s sides. We were suddenly moving very fast up the last part of the hill and then even faster as Romero leapt over a large, moss-covered tree trunk that had obviously fallen some time ago. I cried out and gripped Branford tightly as he laughed quietly in my ear.
Bright light erupted in front of us as we suddenly broke out of the trees and into a small, secluded meadow in the middle of the forest. The sun shone down on us brightly. The whole area was covered in buttercups, clover, and violets, and the mesh of purples, yellows, and greens was heavenly.
“Do you like it?” Branford leaned off to one side so he could look at me straight on.
“It’s beautiful,” I said. His returning smile was nearly enough to knock me from atop the horse.
“I’m glad you like it,” he said. “It’s one of my favorite places.”
“I’ve never seen any place like this.”
Branford swung from the saddle and landed with a thump on the ground. He reached up and brought me down gently to the soft greenery below my feet. I half stepped to one side, afraid of crushing the delicate flowers under my feet.
“Are you hungry?” Branford asked. He pulled the basket from the back of the saddle and then retrieved the blanket that lay across the stallion’s flanks. Branford laid the blanket out on the ground, and though I worried we would crush the flowers beneath us, Branford promised me they would be as good as new the next time we came to this place. He tossed the reins across the saddle, smacked the animal on the rump, and Romero meandered off to stand by a tree and nibble at the clover beneath it.
We sat and Branford opened the basket. I quickly went through the food packaged inside, preparing anything that needed to be prepared and organizing the breads, fruits, meats, and cheeses I found there. I poured Branford wine from a flask, and he lay down on his side and propped himself up on one elbow as he told me about finding the little meadow years ago while hunting with his dogs. Now he brought Romero up here because it was good exercise for the horse, and it gave Branford time to think. When I asked him what he thought about, he just shrugged and said “many things.”
“It’s a good place to clear my head without all the demands of the castle and people swarming around me,” he said. “My thoughts here are my own and not influenced by others. Camden has told me many times about the importance of making the right decisions though I’ve certainly failed in that respect a few times. There are many who try to force their will on me, offer their council, or push me to take one side or another. This is my place to get away from all of that. A place where I can make decisions on my own.”
Branford rolled to his back and then sat up with his knees bent. He turned his head and looked at me through the lashes of his half closed eyes.
“I’ve never brought anyone here before,” he said. “As far as I know, no one else has ever been here. At least, not that I’ve ever seen.”
“Why did you bring me here?”
“I thought you might like it.” Branford shrugged and started pulling clover leaves by their roots from the dirt. “I find it relaxing, and I thought that…well, with everything you have endured since meeting me, I thought you might like some peace.”
He took a swig of wine and wiped his mouth with the back of his hand.
“It is peaceful here,” I said. “Thank you for bringing me.”
“Don’t tell anyone about this place,” he said. His eyes held a twinge of anger and a lot of mistrust.
“Of course not,” I replied. I reached over and touched his forearm. He glanced down at my hand and then back to my face. “I wouldn’t.”
He nodded and even smiled after a few moments had passed. He placed his hand over mine and then brought it up to his lips, gently kissing each of my knuckles in turn. I felt the heat rise up my neck though it had nothing to do with the sun shining down upon us. He clasped my hand between both of his and held it in his lap for a while before releasing me long enough to pack up the uneaten food back into the basket. Branford set the basket off to the side and out of our way. He leaned his arms over his knees and yanked a few more tufts of clover leaves out of the ground. He reached out and pulled one of the flowers by the end of its stem and tucked it behind my ear. He smiled at me as I grabbed up a few other flowers and twisted their stems together until they formed a necklace. Branford took it from my hands and examined it before placing it over my head.
“You are so different from every woman I have ever known,” he said suddenly.
My stomach lurched, and I wondered what I was doing wrong. It occurred to me that he might think making a flower necklace to be quite childish. I hadn’t made such a thing since I was young, and Princess Whitney would have me make them for her and place them on her head like a crown. When I didn’t make it the right length, it would fall from her head, and she would have me punished. I shook my head at the memory and looked back at Branford. He was several years older than me, and I thought he might not like such a playful display.
“Don’t look like that,” Branford said, his tone chastising. “I mean it as a compliment. I’ve never enjoyed the company of princesses for very long. Once I had…spent some time with them, I was never interested in being in their company again.”
I knew what he meant when he said “spent some time,” and I wondered just how much time he had spent and with how many. Did I really want to know such a thing? I did not, but when I considered I would travel with him to tournaments, I thought maybe I should know. What if I met with someone else—someone like Lady Kimberly—and I didn’t know if Branford was “acquainted” with her or not? I could be put into a position where I would embarrass him again, and I didn’t want that to happen.
“How many, um…I mean, how many women…or who…” I stammered, blushed, and wondered if there was any way to get the words back into my mouth.
“How many women have I bedded?”
“Yes,” I whispered. I suddenly did not want the answer, potential embarrassment or not.