She didn’t come this close just to go home empty-handed. If she could not have the treasure she most coveted, by heavens, she’d bring back the Jewel of Dreams.
He turned his head only partially to give her a three-quarter view of his rugged male beauty.
Rui shook herself mentally.
She needed to stop waxing poetic about Wolfe’s magnificence even in her own thoughts and focus on the task at hand. Maybe she could still challenge the winner. Best two out of three?
She opened her mouth to do just that, when Wolfe spoke.
“The other two contestants are incapacitated for the rest of the day, if not the morrow,” he informed her in that low, rumbly voice, so that no one else heard.
“You are a victor by default. Unless you wish to challenge me now for first place.”
He gave her a fulminating glare.
Why was he so angry at her? She hadn’t done anything to him.
But in a few moments, it didn’t matter. Her lips twitched on a smile when his words fully sank in.
She was a winner by default. She was going to the final round!
And she got there by no strength of her own. Wolfe assured her a place by “incapacitating” the other two opponents. She didn’t have to wrestle them at all.
Wolfe saw the understanding in her eyes and turned back to the herald, indicating that he could continue his speech.
As the man did so, Rui didn’t bother pretending to look anywhere else but at the man beside her.
Her Wolfe. Her champion.
She knew he didn’t want her to fight in the final battle against him. She knew he wanted her to bow out, because he wanted her to be safe. He saved her from the lake earlier as well. He didn’t have to. He could have let her lose, even if he saved her life.
Oh, how she loved him!
She vowed then and there that she would never let him down. She’d figure out a way to let him win too.
But Rui should have known better.
Promises were meant to be broken.
~ * ~* ~ *~ * ~* ~ *~ * ~
“You received a missive.”
Wolfe ignored Tristan while he rubbed down his horse.
The stables were quiet this evening, as almost everyone was at the castle celebrating before the final match on the morrow. He was supposed to attend as well, as one of the two remaining contestants. No doubt an order for his presence at the festivities was what the missive contained.
“Shall I read it?” the boy persisted. “I was instructed in no uncertain terms that you should receive the message.”
Wolfe spared him a quick glance.
Tristan didn’t look like he’d met with trouble, at least. He could handle himself in a fight, but Guinevere’s men didn’t fight fair.
Reassured that the boy was no worse for wear, Wolfe focused back on his task.
“How long did it take you to learn to read?” he asked.
Then, he frowned as he brushed his stallion’s coat. Why had he asked such an irrelevant question? It wasn’t as if he’d ever learn.