Page 127 of Hollow Court

It will be important to know, no matter which estate you wind up with.

Well played, Jocelyn.

After plying me with a delicious hot spiced wine calledhippocrasand a caramel-covered apple that was decidedly less so, Davin looped my arm through his and pulled me toward a gathering crowd.

I had mostly seen the courtiers in opulent ballrooms, so I was surprised to see them mingling so casually with the villagers.

Even the ever-lofty Lady Fiona risked dirtying the hem of her ballgown as she wandered with the MacBays through the gaming fields and cramped streets.

Up ahead, Gallagher was already waiting for us, standing a casual distance away from Maisey and looking like he was debating the merits of just closing that gap and being done with the entire façade.

She didn’t look like she was far from the same decision.

I could relate.

When we got closer and Gal turned to join us, I invited Maisey to come, too. At least they could have a relative degree of proximity if they were with us.

He shot me a grateful look, and the four of us made our way to the front of a growing crowd where there was a sparring ring of sorts. Instead of the traditional ring that we had back in Socair, this one had a single giant log raised up several feet off the ground between two posts.

Anxiety settled into my stomach as I considered his mother’s words from earlier. That we all had to participate in an event. Storms help us all if this was mine.

“Did one of you sign up for this competition?” I asked, and they both laughed.

“No,” Davin dragged out the word.

“Gwyn humiliates us in private with alarming regularity,” Gal said. “No need to make it a public affair.”

Maisey chuckled, and I couldn’t help but join her as the woman in question appeared.

The crowd went wild, several of the surrounding onlookers calling out bets to a man with a discreet black book.

Even though I’d seen her reflexes firsthand, it was still hard to wrap my head around the idea that a woman could openly compete in something like that.

“Does she usually win?” I had to practically shout over the din of voices.

“Not usually,” Davin said with a wide grin. “But she’s hoping that changes today.”

“We’ll see,” Gal smirked, mischief dancing in his eyes.

At first, I thought their laughter was because perhaps her prowess had been overstated, though that seemed unlikely when she could catch a dagger out of thin air.

Sure enough, she bested opponent after opponent with her carefully honed skill and lightning-fast movements. I noticed with no small amount of awe that she didn’t even seem to tire. She might be frustratingly overconfident at times, but at least now I could understand why.

When there were no more contenders waiting in line to fight her, Gwyn’s expression turned victorious. She raised her sword in the air, celebrating her win—a little too soon, it would seem.

The loud, windy groan of a bagpipe rang out, silencing the cheering crowd. Gwyn glanced around in confusion just as a new challenger emerged from the tent. Her mouth dropped open in indignation as the crowd let out a deafening roar.

Davin threw his head back in laughter, and Gallagher let out a piercing whistle of support as the man raised his arms, making everyone cheer even more. Gwyn shot her brother a look of betrayal before locking eyes with the man in front of her again.

It was clear who he was even before the announcer made a dramatic announcement about the reigning champion facing off against the captain of the guard.

Prince Finnian. The twins’ father. What was it Gallagher had said?

No one can best her in a fight besides their father. That explained her reaction.

“When did he get here?” Davin asked.

“This morning,” Gallagher called. “Mamá stayed home, but Da’ wanted tosurpriseGwyn.”

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