Page 19 of Renaissance Bear

Doesn't it?he asked worriedly.

His bear made a content sound.Always.

"Okay. Then it'll be fine." He hoped.

The fighting groundswerebusywhen he finally got there. Partly it was just that he'd left it too late, but also, from the chatter, a lot of people had heard about Jon's little clash with Argent, earlier. They'd shown up to watch Argent take on the Black Knight in their first round together. Nobody cared that it was basically an exhibition fight: both of them were guaranteedplaces in the semi-finals, which wouldn't take place for days yet. But it would be a good exhibition, meant to draw crowds, and that was the point.

Jon quashed the impulse to push his way through to the fences so he was right on the front line. For one thing, he was over six feet tall and could see over the heads of at least seventy percent of the people there. For another, it struck him that he almost never stopped to take a minute to reallylookat the faire going on around him. He hadn't for years, not since he and Laurie had taken over running the tavern. He'd steal glimpses that would stay with him a little while, but he didn't really get to be in the middle of it as a participant, just reveling in what was going on round him.

And there was somuchgoing on. Most attendees just came to the faire in regular everyday clothing. But an awful lot of people dressed up. Some of them, like a woman over there in a long black skirt, a puffy white peasant blouse, and a big leather belt, were pretty clearly working with what was already in their closet, but at least were capturing a little bit of the vibe. Others were in things more fantastical than Jon could even imagine wearing, like a very tall dude in a green horned faun costume that Jon vaguely recognized from a movie. For all he knew, it could've been the guyfromthe movie, the costume was that good. It was probably hot enough to melt in, too.

There was everything in between those two extremes, too. Corsets and buccaneer boots and people who were centuries out of date—he saw at least one couple who were very definitely in Regency clothes, inspired by that tv show everybody had been watching lately, probably—and the occasional science fiction renegade who just wanted a chance to dress up. Adults didn't get to do that enough, Jon thought a little wryly. He'd been doing it so regularly his whole adult life that he forgot other people kind of didn't get much chance.

A sudden cheer caught him off guard and he automatically made a noise along with everybody else, turning to see what was going on. The armored division were making their appearance: a herald called out names, but everybody around Jon was already chanting Edward's name, although it became a mishmash as Argent also arrived, waving to his fans. Jon couldn't, from this distance, catch Edward's eye again, but his bear gave a happy sigh.Our mate.

"But—!" Jon skimmed the lists, searching for and finally finding Lady Alessandra, wearing pale green with a jewel in her hair, just as she had been earlier. She was laughing and waving to the knights with a fluttering handkerchief just like the one she'd tied around his arm earlier…

…and there was no spark at all.

Of course not,his bear said.That's not our mate.That'sour mate.It made a picture of Edward's helm in his head.

Jon gestured wildly toward the gathering of courtly folk who were watching the fights begin.But Alis is right there!

Lord Edward is our mate,his bear replied placidly.

But why does it keep switching back and forth?Jon asked desperately.Doesn't it have to be both?—

A shock slammed through him so hard that he staggered. Somebody grabbed at him, helping him stay upright, and then a number of people were basically passing him along, getting him out of the crowd and out of the heat. He vaguely heard someone call for a medic, and a minute later found himself sitting in a tent with a fan blowing directly on him while a medic in a healing tunic pressed a glass of Gatorade into his hand. "A healing potion," the medic said with a brief smile. "You need electrolytes."

"Yeah, I…thanks." Jon took a sip, found it delicious, and drank the whole thing, because if a power drink tasted good itmeant he needed it. The medic handed him another one, and he sipped at that one, staring blankly at the tent wall.

He hadn't considered the possibility that he would have tochoosebetween his mates. That was the only reason he could think that he kept running hot and cold on Alis. Sometimes she was the perfect woman for him, and other times…other times, apparently Lord Edward was his perfect mate. Maybe if he could get them side by side?—

"But theywere," he whispered, almost wailed, to himself. He'd watched Alis tie the favor around Edward's arm, and if that wasn't them being side by side, Jon didn't know what was. And his bear said Edward was his mate, in that case.

But Alis was fabulous. With those sharp strong features she'd called hatchet-like, but which made up the most gorgeous face he'd ever seen. With her quick wit, and her soft mouth, and her absolutely impossible appetite…how could anyguyhope to compete? Except his heart leaped with certainty every time he saw Edward, and only sometimes when he saw Alis.

Jon put his face in his hands. "I don't know how to do this. I don't even know how to find Edward to talk to him. He disappears into the crowd when the fights are over."

He hadn't meant anybody to overhear, but the medic chuckled. "Crushing on the Black Knight? Join the line. Everybody says he comes to the faires as a commoner and that's why nobody's ever figured out who he is. He's just a face in the crowd until it's time to put that armor on."

Jon nodded into his hands. "That's what I've heard, yeah. There must be some people who are in on it, because he'd need somewhere to change clothes, but…"

"You know it's a fantasy, right?" the medic asked gently. Jon blinked up at him, and the man, in his fifties and kind-looking, smiled. "The Black Knight is a fantasy. Whoever is inside that armor gets tired and grumpy and hungry just like everyoneelse. The reason their identity has been kept secret this long is that people want the fantasy and they're afraid if they find out the truth, they'll be disappointed. Collectively, fairgoers have decided they'd rather have the secret than the reality."

Alis is real.Jon wasn't certain if he was talking to his bear or himself, but he nodded slowly. Even if his certainty about her switched on and off…well, maybe fated mates weren't as absolutely certain as everybody said they were. After all, nobody really liked to admit doubts about their partners, especially when the romance was fresh and new and exciting. Maybe it just wasn't quite as perfect as everyone pretended.

That would make a lot more sense than chasing a fantasy.

"Thank you," he said after a long minute. "For the Gatorade and the wisdom."

The medic chuckled. "My pleasure, young man. Now remember to stay hydrated, all right? And not just water. You do need those electrolytes."

"I'll do my best," Jon promised, and went in search of his fated mate.

Chapter 10

Alis and Lord Argent sat across the lists from each other, glaring across the distance like they could fight their battles with their minds as well as their bodies. Their upcoming clash wouldn't affect their rankings: they were both already slotted in the semi-finals that week, and would both be taking part in the afternoon of jousting that was the last, showy spectacle for the faire.

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