Archive of Our Own

Kate is doing perfectly well on her own, thank you very much.

To be sure, she hasn’t actually slain the dragon yet. She hasn’t even found it. But she’s managing just fine. She’s got a sword, and a can-do attitude, and she’s certain she’ll find the creature sooner or later. She’s slain plenty of local pests and vermin in her time - a few wolves, the odd bear, and one juvenile dragon only last year. So she’s more than capable of taking down this lone adult dragon which has burnt down some of the outlying village farms lately.

She’ll deal with it once and for all, just as soon as she tracks it down.

So, to be clear, she’s doing just fine on her own. That’s why she’s so deeply unimpressed when a fool blunders into her out in the woods.

He doesn’t literally blunder into her, perhaps. She’s on horseback, and so is he. But he rides across her path as if he hasn’t a care in the world, shoulders proud and face drawn in strong lines.

She forms her impression of him swiftly. He’s wearing fine engraved armour. His cloak is richly dyed. And, frankly, she’s jealous of his horse but she’s clearly not going to admit that. Her Daisy is a perfectly lovely mare - just somewhat long in the tooth, and not of such fine stock as this stranger’s warhorse.

“Watch where you’re going!” She calls out, envy and annoyance making her sharp.

“Ah - Miss Sharma, I presume?”

“Who’s asking?” She counters, frowning hard.

“It is I, Sir Anthony Bridgerton.” He proclaims - as if that’s supposed to mean something to her. “I have come to offer you my assistance and slay the dragon.”

Now she’s not frowning - she’s scowling. “I have asked for no assistance.”

“And yet here I am, generously offering you my help.” He says, with a twitch around his lips as if he thinks that’s funny rather than patronising and absolutely insufferable. “As a Knight of the Queen’s court, I think you’ll find I’m more than up to the task. Have no fear! You’re not alone any more.”

“I wasn’t afraid and I’m doing perfectly well on my own.” She tells him, firm, turning her horse around. She won’t stay and listen to this nonsense a moment longer.

“You are? Then you’ve already slain the dragon?” He asks pointedly, as if he knows exactly what the answer is.

“No. I’m still tracking it.” She argues, jaw set firm.

“And how do you intend to track it down, exactly? Have you read the omens? Consulted a sorcerer? Laid traps?”

“Newton will find the trail.” She says staunchly, indicating her beloved dog.

This Sir Anthony fellow actually has the gall to laugh at her. “That pup? Your lapdog will track down a dragon? And then you - a young lady - will slay it? I believe you need my help even more sorely than I expected.”

“I need nothing from you.” She declares, kicking Daisy into motion.

The fool follows in her wake. He follows in her wake easily, in fact, because he has a faster horse.

She sighs, reins Daisy to a stop again. No good will come from fleeing this man, evidently. He’s persistent for all his faults.

She’s annoyed, frankly. She’s frustrated and patronised and really rather tired. She was doing fine on her own. She doesn’t need the help of some wet knight. And she certainly doesn’t need him to be so condescending while he’s at it - that’s just uncalled for.

It is time, she decides, to cut her losses.

“Let me be clear with you, sir. I have not asked for your help. I do not need your help - I will find this dragon and slay it, with you or without you. But if you insist on following me for some reason, you will watch your tongue. You’ll be civil. You won’t talk down to me - I don’t stand for such things. I am the local beastslayer in these parts and you’ll treat me with the respect I’m due.”

For a moment, he looks gobsmacked. He sits there, atop his fine horse, and stares at her with his jaw dropped wide.

At length, he seems to gather his wits.

“Very well, Miss Sharma. I understand your terms.” He says. It’s not quite an apology, but she supposes it’s the closest she will get from such a disagreeable stranger.

“One last thing - you will call me Kate.”

“Yes. Very good.” He clears his throat. “Kate.”

“Thank you - Sir Anthony, wasn’t it? Good. Now keep quiet and follow the dog.”

She urges her horse forward in silence.

…….

They ride in silence for most of that first day, in the end. Kate is making a sort of point about it, if she’s honest. She’s determinedly silent to show him she was perfectly happy with her own company before he came along.

But as the afternoon begins to lengthen, she supposes they must have some conversation. There are some logistical details they need to clear up if nothing else. The hows, the whys, the wherefores.

“Why exactly are you here? And how did you find me?” She asks, carefully light, as if she doesn’t much care.

“We heard the tales of the dragon terrorising farmers in these parts as far away as court. The Queen charged me with coming out here and slaying the beast.”

“I see. And do you have much experience with beastslaying?”

He doesn’t exactly answer her question. He stiffens, frowns, urges his horse a little faster.

“I’m a perfectly competent swordsman.” He says, in the end.

Hmm. Yes. That’s not the question she asked.

“So the Queen charged you with killing a dragon and you rode out here hoping for the best.” She summarises.

“And then I heard the local heroine was already on the case, so I thought to join you and offer my assistance. I asked around, and here we are.” He concludes.

“And do you have any idea where here is? Do you have the first clue what you are doing, sir? Do you have the provisions for a long expedition? Are you intending to camp out overnight or return to village to find a bed in the inn?” She presses him without sympathy.

“Ah - that is to say - what are your plans?” He hedges.

“I usually scout during the day and return home at night. But if I have found a promising trail, I might stay out and make camp for a couple of nights.”

“Very well. Then, in general, I will return to the inn each night.” He says, as if that was his idea all along. As if she didn’t just feed him that plan.

“Very good.”

“And - are we far from the village at this point, Miss Sharma? Will we return for the evening soon?”

“My name’s Kate.” She reminds him staunchly.

He stays silent.

She relents, just a little. Just enough to answer his dimwitted question.

“We’ll turn for home in about an hour.” She tells him.

He nods, spurs on his horse, makes a great show of riding briskly without a care in the world.

He’s a pretentious, foolish sort of man. She adds that to her list of objections to him - overdressed, too wealthy, and deeply wet. She imagines he’s never camped out in the wild a night in his life.

Ah well. At least he’s being more civil now. At least there’s that.

If she does find a dragon, perhaps she can use the hapless fellow as a sort of distraction or decoy - or else as bait.

…….

The next day is much the same.

They ride in silence, for the most part. Kate manages to keep up well enough, even though Daisy is nothing compared with Sir Anthony’s horse. The huge great creature is called Hercules, she learns.

Yes. That makes a lot of sense.

She learns a few useless bits and pieces about both horse and rider. Sir Anthony is the eldest of eight siblings, and rather overprotective of them all. Hercules is spooked by birds, which is rather inconvenient when riding through a forest full of wildlife. Sir Anthony likes the inn well enough, but was disappointed with the plain meat pie they served him for supper last night.

In short, he and his horse are thoroughly unsuitable companions on this venture. They are ill-suited to the setting, ill-prepared for the challenges, and ill-tempered at every inconvenience.

There is one point, though, on which this Sir Anthony is not a total waste of space.

He has at least started to call her Kate.

…….

By the end of the first week of their reluctant partnership, Kate is forced to admit that Anthony does perhaps have some redeeming qualities.

Or - one redeeming quality, actually. She thinks all the rest are just facets and expressions of the same thing.

He really, really cares.

He cares deeply about his family - that’s why he’s so overprotective. And overprotectiveness in a man is a bad, smothering sort of characteristic to be sure. But he clearly means well. He cares about Hercules, too, soothing the poor brute every time he takes fright at a passing blackbird. He cares about the local farmers living in fear of the dragon, for all that he has never actually met them - still, all the same, he’s determined to save them.

Sometimes, Kate thinks, all this caring can get a bit patronising. Sometimes he shows it by trying to interfere in other people’s lives.

But - he could be worse. He’s not the rude, arrogant monster of a man she first took him for.

Sometimes she even initiates conversations with him, these days.

“I believe Francesca would appreciate this clearing.” She says, nodding at a little patch of bluebells winking in the dappled sun.

“What?” He turns to her, frowning, as they keep riding on.

“Your sister. Francesca. She is the one who likes bluebells and music, yes? I have it right?”

“Oh.” He nods, frowning harder than ever. “Oh, yes. Quite right. She would like the view very much. You remembered that?”

“I don’t think that’s so very surprising.” She says, feeling suddenly defensive for reasons she doesn’t care to investigate too closely. “There aren’t many distractions out here. You talk a great deal about your family. I realise there are seven of them, which is a lot to remember, but all the same -”

“Yes. Sorry. I didn’t mean to make you uncomfortable.” He swallows so loudly she can hear it from here. “That’s very thoughtful of you. Perhaps - ah - I might ask after your family?”

She actually tries smiling at him. “You’ll find it easier to remember the details of my family than I will to keep your siblings straight in my mind. I’m an easy case. My father is dead. The woman I call my mother is actually his second wife, not my birth mother. My half-sister Edwina is considerably younger than me and infinitely more beautiful.” She’s more proud than sad about that. Really, she is. She’s had some years now to adjust to the idea that her sister is the eligible one, out of the two of them.

“And yet you say all this without resentment.” He observes. “You’re not uncomfortable about living with your father’s second family? You feel at home there?”

“I feel truly at home there. We’re very close. I consider them truly my family.”

He nods. “That’s good. That’s very good. Everyone deserves a loving family.”

She wonders whether, perhaps, this unexpected partnership is starting to look a little like a tentative friendship.

…….

Anthony dispels that hope rather sharply, midway through the next morning.

They are not friends. They are not friends at all. That much is evident, because he’s pacing his horse around the forest and yelling at her.

“This is insane!” He crows, shaking his hands at her for good measure. “You’re out of your mind, Kate. It’s a dog. A lapdog. A lady’s ornamental pet. It has not picked up the scent of a dragon. I refuse to follow the idiotic creature down that ravine.”

“It’s not a ravine.” She argues back at once. “It’s a gully. Quite a modest one, really. We’ll be perfectly safe. Daisy is a very sure-footed animal. And I trust Newton - he has tracked many beasts before now.”

Silence. Anthony keeps pacing his horse, around and around on the spot. The poor creature must be quite dizzy by this point.

And then -

“Hercules is not so sure-footed. He’s not used to terrain like this. He’s more accustomed to jousting than to yomping around the woods. I don’t want him to be hurt. A fall and a broken leg out here would - would be the end of him.” He mutters.

A week ago, she thinks, she might have crowed in victory at that - an admission that his horse and, implicitly, the knight himself are imperfect. But now she knows better. Now she understands that he truly does worry about the people and creatures in his care.

“I’ll go first.” She suggests. “I’ll tell you if the terrain looks difficult, or if there is any place to watch out for. But truly, I believe we’ll be fine.”

“And you’re going anyway, so I have the choice of following or abandoning you.” He guesses.

She grins. “You have it right, sir. Come on. Let’s get to it.”

…….

Newton has not scented a dragon, it turns out.

He’s scented a bear. But that’s fine - slaying a bear is still useful. A bear took some lambs only last month - maybe it was this very one. And the pelt will fetch a good price which will keep Edwina in fine dresses all year.

With that decided, Kate draws her sword and starts urging Daisy towards the den.

“Hang on, Kate.” Anthony calls to her in a loud whisper, or hushed reprimand. An odd sort of half-way tone.

“What?” She asks, scarcely bothering to turn in the saddle.

“Are you really doing this? You’re just riding straight into a bear’s den?”

“Yes. I’ve done this before, Anthony. I’ll be fine. Watch and learn.”

He doesn’t. Damn him, but he doesn’t watch and learn.

She doesn’t realise it at first. She doesn’t notice Anthony’s foolish bravery. She’s so caught up in drawing the bear out of its den, then fighting it in the clearing, that she doesn’t see Anthony move into the fray.

Then all at once he’s there. He’s taking a swing with his sword, right in the midst of the fight. It’s a good swing, to be fair to him - strong and long and right on target.

But it messes with her rhythm. It’s not what she’s expecting. It breaks the neat pattern of circling, striking, tiring the beast before she goes for the death blow. And then of course the bear decides it’s more interested in watching Anthony, and actually turns to rake its claws down his thigh.

Kate abandons her strategy. She discards her usual measured approach. She simply hits out wildly, a mess of blood and blade. She needs to take this bear down and get Anthony some medical help.

She does it. The bear is dead.

And Anthony’s not dead, thank goodness. He looks rather faint, and she’s not sure whether he’s slipping from his saddle or deliberately dismounting.

She hops off her horse and runs to him. He’s sitting crumpled on the ground, now, clutching at his bleeding leg.

“It’s not that bad. Not deep. I’ll be fine.” He bites out.

“True.” She agrees, because she’s seen worse. “But it’ll bleed a fair bit and you’ve had a nasty shock. I should take you home and ask my mother to patch you up.”

He frowns up at her. He’s slumped, frowning, clutching his leg. He looks a sorry sight.

But still, it seems like he’s trying to tease when he next speaks.

“Is that it? You’ll take me home and get me some help? What - no I told you so? You have nothing patronising to say about me getting myself struck by a bear?”

She only shrugs. “Not at all. You got a good strike in. It’s only that we haven’t fought together before and you interfered with my usual plan. But we survived, and you need help just now more urgently than you need to be taught a lesson. Here.” She cuts a sleeve from her shirt, hands it over to him.

“This? This is all the bandage I’m to have? You think this delicate sleeve will be enough to hold my leg together until we ride to your home?” He teases.

She laughs a grudging laugh. “Other people might say thank you.”

But all the same, she does relent. She does cut off her other sleeve, too, and hand it over to him. She helps him wrap the wound, as well, and then offers him her arm to lean on as he scrambles onto a rock and uses it to mount his horse.

It would be awkward if he went and died on her now. She doesn’t need his help, to be sure - in fact, he’s not very much help at all. But having him around does make dragonslaying a less lonely occupation.

…….

Anthony seems to be holding up fairly well by the time they arrive at Kate’s home. Now the initial shock has passed, he’s more or less his usual insufferable self.

All the same, she does stand by while he dismounts Hercules so he can lean on her shoulder, if he likes. She thinks that’s only fair.

When he’s standing on his own two feet, she opens the door.

“It’s me!” She calls out, still standing on the threshold. “I brought an injured friend. I need to take the horses out back. Could you -”

She stops there. Her sister has made it to the front door. She’s smiling prettily, curtseying to Anthony.

“My sister, Edwina. Edwina, this is Sir Anthony Bridgerton.” Kate offers.

“Delighted to make your acquaintance.” Edwina says neatly.

“Likewise. I see rumours of your beauty were not exaggerated.” Anthony says outright.

And for a moment - for perhaps just half a heartbeat - Kate feels the slightest sting of… something. Discomfort. Disappointment. Perhaps jealousy.

No. She’s being silly. Anthony thinks Edwina is beautiful, and that’s just as it should be.

Only - everyone always likes Edwina more. Every single gentleman of their acquaintance. And perhaps it makes her a fool, but Kate thought Anthony might be different. He’s a strange fellow, and although she once thought him wet she now knows he’s brave and caring, if a little tactless and foolhardy.

He’s seen her at her best. That’s why it hurts. Because he’s seen her, sword drawn, slaying a bear to protect him and then binding his leg with her sleeves, and still he likes her sister more on scarcely ten seconds acquaintance.

It’s not that Kate likes him, of course. But she might have liked him to like her.

She sighs. She shakes herself, turns to take charge of the two horses.

“Edwina - Anthony helped me take down a bear. He’s got some cuts on his leg. Could you sit him down inside and have mother tend to him?”

“I’ll take excellent care of him.” Edwina promises, but she’s not looking at Kate.

No - her eyes are fixed on Anthony, and he’s staring right back at her.

…….

The process of getting Anthony patched up and sending him on his way is quite simple, in the end. Her mother is handy with home remedies. Her sister is skilled at soothing distressed gentlemen with her pretty smile. And Kate is adept at tending to horses, and fetching and carrying, and generally making herself useful all the while.

She and Anthony do have to explain how they know each other. But that’s only a very tiny bit awkward, she thinks. When her mother asks, they just explain that they’ve teamed up on their beasthunting exploits and are hoping to slay the local dragon.

Her mother is used to Kate’s ways, so she accepts that without question.

He goes back to the inn when his leg is cleaned and bound in something more suitable than Kate’s sleeves.

That’s why she’s surprised to hear his voice, when she comes down to eat her breakfast the following morning.

“Anthony? Is that you?” She calls out, as she strides down the hall. “What are you doing here? Has your leg taken a turn for the worse? Are you -”

Oh. Right. It’s not any of those things.

He’s here to pay a call on her sister. He’s stopped by to snatch a few minutes chatting to Edwina before he and Kate set out for the day. He’s sitting at the kitchen table, enjoying a casual cup of tea with her as if this was perfectly normal and appropriate behaviour.

“Does mother know you’re entertaining a gentleman in here?” Kate bites out, probably harsher than necessary. But she knows that Anthony can be a funny fellow, and she won’t have him taking advantage of her sister.

That’s all this is. Really, it is. She just thinks Edwina can do better - it’s not that she’s hurt or jealous, or anything so very silly.

“I paid my respects to your mother when I arrived.” Anthony says mildly. “I just thought it might be friendly to meet you at your home for a change. And by fortunate coincidence, your sister offered me refreshments.”

“Of course she did.”

No one rises to that. No one asks her what that’s supposed to mean, or why she sounds like she has swallowed a lemon.

She eats her breakfast in record time. She swallows down toast as if her fate depends on it. The bread is too scorched, too dry, and it sticks in her throat and gives her a cough.

She’s glad of it. While she’s coughing she doesn’t have to listen to Edwina and Anthony exchanging trite conversation about the weather.

She’s done. She’s finished with her toast. She’s bolting towards the door, calling to Anthony to keep up.

He manages quite well, for a man who had his leg mauled by a bear only yesterday. She might have more sympathy for that injury, if she weren’t so set on getting this infuriating fool away from her precious sister.

That’s what she’s doing. She’s protecting Edwina.

She and Anthony mount their horses quickly and quietly. They set out towards the forest, Newton leading the way as usual.

At last, Anthony breaks the silence.

“Your sister is quite lovely. I might call on her more often.” He says lightly.

“That’s fine.” Kate says, short and sharp, desperate to be done with the conversation.

Only - it’s not fine, is it? He’s some wealthy lord from many miles away, and he has no business trifling with Edwina.

“You’d better not hurt her.” She bites out firmly. “You’d better not waste her time, or ruin her reputation. I know you can be quite the troublemaker, so -”

“Is that any way to talk to the man who took a bear claw to the leg for you yesterday?” He asks mildly.

“I didn’t ask you to ride into that fight. I specifically asked you not to, in fact.” She reminds him.

Silence sits. Kate spurs Daisy into a canter, then regrets it immediately. Hercules has a long, easy canter which eats up the miles.

Daisy has a flat canter, which reminds Kate she’s getting old.

And then it gets worse, when Anthony starts to speak again.

“Edwina said -”

“Shall we discuss our tactics?” She interrupts him, because she cannot bear to hear another word about her perfect sister. She loves her, to be sure, but she can’t face discussing her with this man a second longer.

“Our tactics?”

“Our beast slaying tactics. We need to do better next time we get into a fight. We’re lucky it was only a scratch to the leg. We should take some opportunities to practise together on smaller quarry. You have a strong arm - we could make quite the team if we have our plan straight.”

He frowns at her in silence for a moment.

But then his face seems to clear, as he shakes his head and answers her point.

“Yes. Quite right. I notice you were circling the bear quite quickly - tell me more about that.”

She does as he asks. Finally, she thinks, here is a conversation she feels equipped to face this morning.

…….

He calls on Edwina a lot in the days and weeks which follow. He’s there most mornings, sipping tea - or else he’ll ride all the way home with Kate and pop in for supper rather than eating that meat pie at the inn he was so disparaging of.

Kate thinks it’s silly that he comes to see Edwina so often. There can be no future between a Knight of the Queen’s court and a village girl - even a very beautiful village girl. And besides which, it’s not as if there is ever any point to their visits. All they ever do is smile silently at each other, or chat about the most trite topics. They share no conversations of substance.

She’s not claiming that she and Anthony are on particularly intimate terms, of course, but they do talk about things. About how to track a dragon, and how best to care for the blade of a sword. About topics which actually matter - and which actually reveal a little of their characters, she thinks.

She doesn’t see how anyone ever falls in love over tea and commentary on the weather.

It doesn’t matter. It’s fine. Edwina isn’t going to fall in love with him. He’s a foolish, arrogant man with altogether too much money and too high an opinion of himself.

Only - Edwina does smile at him a lot, just as he smiles back at her.

Kate shakes herself. She mustn’t dwell on it. She’s out in the forest following Newton with Anthony at her side. She ought to be thinking of the chase, not fretting about Edwina and Anthony.

She just keeps getting caught up in worrying about them.

She has better things to focus on. She has the trail before her, the sky above her, the forest demanding her attention.

And yet, somehow, she’s very keen to prove to herself she can have a conversation of substance with Anthony, this morning. She’s desperate to prove to herself that they can discuss meaningful topics and that they have become real friends through this dragonslaying quest.

“Your Hercules is a fine horse.” She says, and she almost manages to keep the jealousy from her voice. “I don’t believe I’ve ever asked - where did you get him? Who’s the breeder?”

He laughs a little. “I am.”

She actually gasps in surprise. She thought she knew this man quite well, by now, but he’s just proven her wrong.

“You are? You raised him yourself?”

“Yes. My family keeps horses. We’ve been breeding them for generations. I can trace Hercules’ bloodline back two hundred years.” He boasts.

Now she’s laughing out loud. “You ruined that, Anthony. For a moment there I was impressed. And then you went and started boasting about your horse being an aristocrat with a family tree. You have a real gift for arrogance.”

He gives a grudging chuckle in turn. “He’s not a true aristocrat. I can trace my own family tree back three times as far.”

That breaks them both. They’re both laughing hysterically, leaning low in their saddles, and Kate actually reaches out to swat Anthony on the arm in a playful, good-natured sort of way.

Huh. Maybe that was a weird gesture, now she thinks about it.

As their laughter falls away, Anthony sits up and sends her a thoughtful look.

“Thank you for the implicit compliment all the same. I know you don’t give them lightly. You really think Hercules is that remarkable?”

She nods. “I’m not sure why I bothered asking how you came by him - it’s not as if I could afford a horse of his calibre. But I was curious all the same.”

“You like horses? You’re evidently a good rider but I have never asked if the interest runs deeper.”

“I love them. Always have. I have had Daisy for years - she was the finest I could afford back when she was young, and I can’t part with her now.”

“She’s a solid choice.” He nods, running his eyes over her - over the horse, that is, because he’ll never run his eyes over Kate. “I concede she’s getting on in years, but she’s got decent legs. You chose well.”

Hmm. Kate used to find this man patronising, she seems to remember. But she understands him better now. He’s not trying to belittle her by reminding her that Daisy is from inferior stock. He honestly means it, when he says she’s done well with the resources at her disposal.

“So come on - tell me more about your set-up.” He says, evidently warming to his topic. “You must have a couple of stalls, since you managed to keep Hercules somewhere while your mother was tending to my leg?”

“Yes. A small stable, but in decent shape. A couple of stalls, but Daisy’s all alone in there at the moment. We had a couple of ponies when my sister and I were younger, before my father passed away.”

“And your sister likes horses too?”

“Very much so - I am the most ardent horsewoman in the family, but Edwina often sneaks out to feed Daisy a carrot.”

He nods, smiles, as if that presents a sweet image.

No. Unacceptable. She’ll not have him dwelling on mental images of her sister.

“Your turn. You must tell me all about your stables and your breeding programme. And you must tell me every last detail, since I am hardly likely to ever see such an establishment for myself.” She hopes that will provoke a reaction, that he might rise to her challenge.

He spends the next hour or more telling her all about the relative advantages of different types of winter fodder, and honestly? She doesn’t hate it.

…….

She’s rather taken aback, later that afternoon, when Anthony chooses not to ride into the village with her.

“You’re not riding back to the inn?” She echoes, confused.

“Indeed. I must nip home - a quick errand. Just a couple of days dealing with some family business.” He mutters, not meeting her eye.

“You said nothing of this earlier.”

“I don’t tell you all my business.” He counters, perhaps a little heated.

Then he seems to think better of it. He sighs, takes a ragged breath.

“I must go home for a couple of days.” He reiterates, more calmly. “But I’ll be back before long. I’ll join in the search again. You’d better not find that dragon without me.” He warns her, warm enough to tease once more.

She nods, swallows hard. “Very well. Safe journey. If Newton finds the trail while you’re away I suppose I’ll wait for you.” She says, carefully light, as if that huge concession is of no great consequence.

He nods, now. She nods again. He nudges Hercules closer, until the two horses’ shoulders are just lightly touching.

And for a moment - just one foolish, fleeting moment - Kate actually wonders if Anthony is considering kissing her. There’s something heated in his eyes, something about the way he’s leaning close to her across the space between them.

No. Of course not. Silly of her. He would never so much as consider kissing her.

She’s still gathering her wits by the time he turns his horse and rides away.

…….

He returns with a horse - with an additional horse, that is.

Kate is bustling around the kitchen, eating her breakfast, preparing to go out tracking for the day. Edwina is with her, sipping at tea with a quiet, ladylike dignity. Their mother is presumably still resting upstairs - she is often a late riser in the mornings.

And then Anthony appears at the door with an unfamiliar horse. He’s mounted on Hercules, leading the other creature at his side.

Both sisters rush to the front door. Kate pushes it open.

And for one dangerous, heady moment she dares to hope. She has flighty butterflies rising up in her stomach as she takes in this sight and dares to imagine it’s for her. That perhaps this horse is a gift, because they had that lovely conversation about horses just before he nipped home. That maybe it’s a horse to show he does value her, does see her even when her beautiful sister is standing at her side.

That maybe this horse even has something to do with love.

Needless to say, she’s wrong. She’s thoroughly and completely wrong, and she learns that when Anthony brings her back down to the ground with a bump.

“Miss Edwina! I pray you might accept this gift.” He calls out, bowing in the saddle.

“This gift?” Edwina echoes, evidently awestruck.

“The gift of this horse.” Anthony clarifies. “This is Athena - a good mare, quite solid and good-tempered but swift and brave, too. I thought she might suit you. I know your family has only the one horse, and that you like horses too - so I wondered whether maybe you might like to be able to ride out with your sister when she takes Daisy for an outing. I know you have two stalls so -”

“I can’t ride, sir.” Edwina manages to interrupt, manages to explain the truth at last.

“You can’t ride?”

“I never learnt - nor ever wanted to. I do love Daisy, to be sure, but I love her as a treasured pet rather than a riding horse. My sister is the horsewoman of the family.”

“But - Kate - you said -”

“I said my sister loved horses, and enjoyed feeding treats to Daisy. That much is the truth.” Kate points out. “If you’d told me you were thinking of giving her a horse I might have clarified the situation, but since you never saw fit to tell me your plans I never saw fit to set you straight.”

Yes, she’s being brusque - bordering on rude with that sharp tone. But frankly she doesn’t care. She doesn’t care if she’s giving offence, because she’s taken plenty of offence at all this, thank you very much.

How dare a man who was her acquaintance first show up at her door with a gift which would be perfect for her - and then try to give it to her sister?

“But - I - I brought you this horse, Miss Edwina.” He protests feebly.

He seems to be having trouble wrapping his head around this turn of events, Kate thinks.

Good for him. It serves him right. It serves him right for being so stupidly, insufferably warm and caring that she managed to go and fall half in love with him.

She can see it, now. She can see that amidst bear fights and arguments and unexpected laughter she’s found herself growing fond of this man, entirely against her better judgement.

And now he’s gone and given her sister a horse .

Edwina, meanwhile, is evidently set on making this excruciating situation even worse.

“And since you have ridden all this way with the gift, I understand how rude it would be to turn it down now.” She says, with one of those pretty smiles. “Truly, I am grateful for the thoughtfulness. It’s such a generous gift. May I make a suggestion? I would be delighted to accept this horse to live in our family stables, and I am sure I will enjoy having her as a treasured pet - and meanwhile I would loan her to my sister to ride. I know how happy it would make her to have such a fine mount, and it would bring me great joy to see her so happy.” She concludes neatly.

A beat of silence. Kate wants to weep, honestly. She likes to think she’s usually a rather strong-willed young woman, but this morning she’s ready to crumple. Her sister is now offering to loan her the gift she so desperately wishes could have been hers to begin with.

Anthony, though, is nodding eagerly.

“Yes. Quite so. There’s a fine idea. You’ll enjoy having another horse in the stables, and Kate will make good use of her. A solution which suits everyone.”

No. Kate’s quite sure it suits no-one, actually. But all the same, she’s not about to look a literal gift horse in the mouth - even if it is the most excruciatingly awkward gift horse she has ever come by.

“I’ll take her out back and start getting her settled. Athena, you said her name was?”

“Yes. Athena. Thank you, Kate.” Anthony seems suddenly relieved to get the gorgeous creature off his hands.

Hmm. Names are a funny business, aren’t they? Athena for a horse who looks more docile than warlike. Miss Edwina for the beautiful sister, while the woman he actually has conversations of substance with goes by Kate.

Well, then. There’s one place where she’s winning.

Why does it feel like such a hollow victory?

…….

Athena is not really a docile horse, as such, it turns out. She’s more calm, sensible, and even-tempered. But she has plenty of spirit and energy about her, too - and she seems rather intelligent and inquisitive for a horse.

Perhaps Athena wasn’t such a bad name for her after all.

Kate has been riding her in silence for two hours, now. She and Anthony have set out on their daily hunt. But it’s not been at all like their usual daily exploits at all, because they’ve barely exchanged a word.

She just doesn’t know how to. She has no idea how to even begin to speak to him after that awful scene this morning. She’s feeling so rejected and humiliated and pathetic, riding this gorgeous gift horse out of her sister’s pity.

She doesn’t like being pathetic. She’s a dragon-slayer, after all.

But she ought to say something. She ought to acknowledge that Athena is fabulous, that it’s a very generous gift, or ideally both.

She takes a deep breath and gathers some careful words.

“Athena is a very fine horse and I am grateful for the use of her.” She manages, stiff with hurt.

“I’m pleased you’re enjoying riding her.” He says, eyes fixed on Hercules’ ears.

Then it gets worse. Then he keeps talking, clumsy and stilted.

“I mean - I suppose - I always did mean her as a gift for both of you. I thought it more appropriate to give a gift to Miss Edwina, of course, but all the same - Athena was always a gift to your family more than anything else. That is -”

“Don’t lie to me.” She scoffs, unimpressed. “I understand. All my life men have walked past me to court my beautiful younger sister. I’m beyond being hurt by it.”

She’s not sure that’s so true any more, though. When she thinks of the way she felt this morning - the way she’s felt since she first led Anthony into her home injured and was so disappointed to be overlooked - she thinks she might be telling a rather sore lie.

“Would you - ah - would you wish for men to stop and notice you?” He asks, more clumsy than ever. “I rather had the impression that you preferred to ride around the forest hunting dragons instead of staying home to be courted and married.”

“I don’t see why the two should be mutually exclusive. A woman can hunt dragons and fall in love.” She bites out, because that’s the truth, isn’t it?

“Ah. Right. Yes. Quite so.” He says, as if that’s a revelation and has taken him entirely by surprise.

“I do realise it reduces my odds of marrying, though.” She says, suddenly feeling rather tired. “Most men will not want a wife who galivants around the countryside. And there are few young gentlemen in our village as it is - there is a reason Edwina remains unmarried although she’s so eligible.”

“Hmm. Yes. I see.”

Silence. There has been altogether too much silence between them, this morning. Once upon a time, back when they first met, Kate seems to remember they had little to say to each other and spent a lot of time riding in silence.

But she’s grown used to all those substantial conversations since then, and she misses them.

As if hearing her thoughts, Anthony pipes up.

“Would you like to hear more about Athena? Why I chose her? I thought perhaps you might be interested. I have all her details memorised in anticipation of this moment.” He says, with just a hint of laughter. As if he really was expecting to have a detailed conversation with her about the horse all along.

He’s a funny man. He tried to give a horse to her sister, whilst all the time he really wanted to discuss the creature with her?

Something about his enthusiasm is infectious. And anyway - she really does like discussing horses with Anthony. It’s more enjoyable than being in a sour mood with him, at any rate.

“I must admit I’m curious.” She concedes. “I wasn’t sure I was allowed to be curious since she’s really my sister’s horse, but -”

“She’s yours now. I think we can all agree she’s yours in every way that matters.” Anthony declares robustly.

Really - she doesn’t understand this situation at all. She can’t even begin to untangle what’s going on in this foolish fellow’s head.

But she does love her new horse, so that’s something.

“Come on, then. Tell me everything. Is she one of your aristocratic blue-blooded horses?” She teases.

He laughs. “Something like that. You notice she has a much lighter build than Hercules? Her mother was a racehorse, but her father is from sturdier stock. The best of both worlds, I hope. She can move more swiftly than a heavy warhorse when called upon, but she’s not flighty or delicate.”

“So you’re saying she’s faster than Hercules?”

He grins at her. He knows exactly what she’s asking. “In the hands of an adept rider, I think she should be, yes.”

“I see. And would you describe my riding as adept, sir?” She asks, bright and teasing.

He’s already urging his horse into a gallop.

“Only one way to find out.” He tosses the words back over his shoulder, a challenge thrown to the wind.

She grins and gives chase without a moment’s hesitation.

…….

They never discuss the fact that Athena was intended for Edwina again.

It just… falls away. It’s a truth which slips into silence as easily as night follows day. The two of them ride together, and race together, and hunt dragons together - albeit with very little success. And all the while, Anthony treats Athena as Kate’s horse through and through.

“Have you any oats at home? I think she’s looking a little slender.” He frets, about a week after that terrible, wonderful morning.

Kate rolls her eyes at him. He’s always fussing over Athena.

“She’s fine.” She says robustly. “She’s quite a fine-boned horse, isn’t she? We’ve discussed this before. She’s lightly built, but not underweight. I’m feeding her plenty.”

“Yes - yes, I know you take good care of her. But she’s been ridden a lot this week. She’s not used to this kind of mileage. Perhaps when we arrive back home I might feed her a few oats.” He concludes.

That’s another new development. He still calls rather often at Kate’s home to collect her in the morning or ride back with her in the evening. But these days, he doesn’t seem to waste so much time in idle chatter with Edwina - no, he’s more often in the stables petting Athena, or feeding Athena, or even saddling her up ready for Kate’s arrival.

She’s not sure what to make of it, honestly. Has he lost his enthusiasm for courting her sister now he knows she can’t ride? Does he simply like horses more than women? It’s all a mystery to her.

She doesn’t pursue the subject any further. She’s learnt, lately, that there are times when it’s worth arguing with Anthony and times when it’s best to let it go. She sees no danger in him spoiling the horse a very little bit, so she focuses on something more interesting instead.

“I think Newton has a trail. He’s been very purposeful this morning.” She notes.

“Yes. Your lapdog has been purposeful. I’ll believe that when I see it.” Anthony teases.

She gives him a grudging laugh for his trouble. “I think it’s true. There’s something about him when he scents a trail - he moves in a straighter line, do you see? He’s not so distracted by squirrels.”

“Perhaps he’s finally realised he couldn’t catch a squirrel if he tried.”

“He caught one last year, actually. If you follow me around long enough you’re sure to see him catch another one.”

“Hmph. Yes - once again, I’ll believe that when I see it.”

Their silly squabble subsides with a few light chuckles. Kate’s still shaking her head as she urges Athena on and follows Newton a bit more closely. She really does think the dog is onto something.

Then she hears Anthony cry out behind her, sudden and too loud in the quiet forest.

“A bee! Kate - the back of your neck - a bee!”

She swats absently at the back of her neck. She’s not too concerned about a bee. She’s been stung before out here, and no doubt she will be again.

She’s too late on this occasion. The thing stings her before she manages to brush it away. But that’s just life, isn’t it? Sometimes, despite your best intentions, you get stung.

Sometimes you go and fall for a man who would give your sister a horse, and there’s no escaping it.

She keeps riding. A bee sting isn’t going to stop her from following Newton along this scent trail he seems so excited about. She doesn’t let the sting interrupt her at all - she just gets on with her life.

She’s been riding for several long seconds by the time she notices that she hasn’t heard Anthony’s voice in a while.

She throws a look over her shoulder. He’s some way behind her. She stops, turns around, takes in the situation. He’s riding slowly - and badly, honestly. He doesn’t look at all like his usual confident, coordinated self. He’s shaking and his eyes look unfocused.

“Anthony?” She asks.

“Are you well? Are you quite well?” He asks, breathless and panicky.

She frowns, puzzled. “I’m fine. And you? You - ah - have you taken ill?” She doesn’t know how else to ask after his sudden want of composure.

“I - the bee - did it sting you?”

“Yes, but I’m entirely well.” She reiterates firmly.

He’s not satisfied. “Are you sure? No tightness in the throat? You’re breathing smoothly?”

“I’m absolutely fine.” She tells him, once and for all. “I’ve been stung by bees before now and no harm done. Today is just the same. I am perfectly able to keep riding.”

Perhaps that helps a little. He stops asking all those scatty questions. But he’s still plainly struggling - he’s given up on riding at all, now, and dropped the reins altogether. He’s just sitting there, breathing laboured breaths and staring at her.

Hmm. She thinks she’s starting to understand. For some reason he’s deathly afraid of bee stings.

She rides right up to him. She takes one of his slack hands, cradles it in both her own.

“I’m entirely well. See here - still solid and alive. And it didn’t sting you, did it?”

He shakes his head, still wordless.

“Well, then. We’re both unscathed. Here - a healthy pulse.”

She wraps his hand around one of her wrists, holds it in place with the other hand. She wonders if it might be more effective to hold his hand over her heart, honestly, but she’s not sure she can attempt that after he gave her sister a horse. Even holding his hands like this is almost more than she can bear.

It seems to be working. He tightens his grip on her wrist, rubs a finger over her pulse point.

“You’re truly well?” He asks once more for good measure.

She stares down at their joined hands. “Never better.”

He nods, briskly, releases her hand. He reaches for the reins and starts riding determinedly forward.

“I’m sorry.” She says, as they move off. “I didn’t realise you were… unwell. I should have noticed. But I was so set on following this trail Newton has picked up that I rode on oblivious.”

“It’s quite alright. It’s just a foolish reaction I have sometimes.” He says, carefully light.

Too careful, she thinks. As if there’s something he doesn’t dare to admit.

“I don’t think there’s anything foolish about it.” She says staunchly. “We’re all afraid of different things for different reasons. I hardly count reacting to a friend’s bee sting as a moment of gross idiocy. Personally, I think you acted far more foolishly that day you rode into the midst of a bear fight.”

He lets out a short laugh. It sounds a little strained, perhaps, but at least he’s returning to his usual self.

And then -

“I lost my father to a bee sting. A freak accident, the doctor said. Apparently some bodies overreact to a bee sting so horrendously that it kills them.” He mutters.

“I’m so sorry. That sounds awful. That’s not how you expect to lose a parent.”

“Exactly! That’s it. I was out in the garden with him, and suddenly he was gone. A child expects to lose their parents, but not then, not like that.”

She nods, swallows hard. “I lost my father to illness. That’s a predictable sort of loss, and it still hurt.”

“My condolences.”

That’s a phrase she’s heard a hundred times, she thinks. But there’s something soft about the way Anthony says it, as if he really does care about her loss.

Of course he does. He’s Anthony. He cares, even when he cares in the most dysfunctional of ways. He cares so damn much he’s determined to follow her home and feed her horse.

Another of those moments when she could swear he can read her mind. When did that start happening between them? She’s not at all sure.

“We should turn for home soon. I know you think Newton has found a good trail - but if he has, all the more reason to turn back. If there’s a chance we’ll be out for a couple of nights we should warn your family.”

She shakes her head. “I have everything we need to make camp for a couple of nights. We can build a shelter, set a fire, and I’ll catch us some supper. I say we press on.”

“You’re not listening, Kate.” He chastises her. “I have every faith that we could survive out here with your skills. But I think we should go home and tell your family that we have found a good trail and might be away for some days. Think of how worried they’ll be if you’re away for a long time.”

“They know I sometimes stay out overnight.” She argues.

“And do they like it? Do you do it often? Is it so routine, and are they so comfortable with it, that they will be completely unconcerned if this trail is as good as you say it is, and we are gone all week?”

She frowns. He’s starting to make sense, but she wants to press on.

“You just want an excuse to see my sister again.” She tries, although she knows that’s a low blow.

“No. It’s not that at all. Think of what just happened and the conversation we just had. I know what it’s like to lose a loved one unexpectedly. I don’t want your family worrying about you.”

She admits defeat. She does love her mother and sister, for all that her feelings towards Edwina have sometimes been a little strained or competitive, of late, since Anthony appeared on the scene. The two things are not incompatible. She can be phenomenally envious and also deeply loving towards her.

“Very well. We’ll go home tonight. If you’re so set on feeding up Athena you may as well stay for supper as well.” She offers, a little grudging.

He grins. “I knew you’d see sense eventually. Tell me - do you know what’s on the menu? If your mother serves roasted parsnips again, may I sit by you so I can pass them to you discreetly under the table?”

“If you don’t like my mother’s cooking you’re welcome to eat at the inn instead.” She says sharply.

He looks rather unhappy at that, and she can’t see why that should be.

…….

Anthony does take up her supper invitation, in the end. He always does, in her experience. He likes loitering at her home and speaking to her sister.

It’s Kate he chooses to sit next to tonight, though, even though there are no parsnips on his plate. But that probably doesn’t mean anything. It’s probably because there are only four of them at the table, so the odds are quite short. Or it’s so that he can be opposite Edwina and have a good view of her pretty face, perhaps. She’s quite sure there’s some sensible explanation.

He elbows her a lot. Not because he eats with his elbows sticking out, or because he’s clumsy with a fork. But because he keeps making little jokes about their adventures, nudging her to invite her to join in the laughter.

She allows herself to enjoy that more than she probably should.

…….

The first day out following Newton’s exciting trail goes well.

They make good progress. They ride swiftly and without incident. They chat and laugh together along the way. All in all, Kate thinks, it’s one of the better days she has spent with Anthony. And one time she could swear she even catches him staring at her lips - which can’t be true, of course, since he’s all but courting her sister - yet all the same, a girl can dream.

The first evening out in the forest, though, presents a whole new set of problems.

She’s just called a halt for the night. She has more experience of camping out here than the courtly knight she’s travelling with, so she’s quite confident taking the lead on this occasion. She’s already started gathering branches to build a simple lean-to.

Then Anthony asks a rather thorny question.

“So what’s the plan? A shelter each? Should I copy what you’re doing?” He asks, frowning, staring at the branches she has gathered.

She laughs a slightly tense laugh. “We’d still be building at midnight if we made two separate shelters. I was intending to make one simple shelter, then we will sleep in our cloaks for warmth - and Newton will join us. He makes an excellent hot water bottle.”

“Very good. Yes. One shelter.”

Silence falls. Kate presses on with her task. She needs to build this lean-to, then make a fire, then make some supper. She has too much to do to let a little awkwardness bother her.

That’s when she has a rather better idea. She sends Anthony off to hunt for supper. That will clear him out of the way - and with him, the awkwardness that lingers in the air. It will speed up the process of working through all her tasks, too.

Hmm. She’d better make this quite a large shelter. Evidently Anthony is not too impressed with the thought of sharing personal space with her tonight.

The rest of the evening goes a little better, after that. She manages the shelter and the fire. Anthony returns with a rabbit and a rather smug smile, as if he deserves congratulations for catching some small game.

She congratulates him anyway, even though it’s not such a noteworthy achievement. He’s quite useful to have around, on the whole. She takes back all those unkind thoughts she once had about him being sort of pathetic and useless, just because he happened to have no experience of the forest.

She even tells him something like that, as they sit together by the fire and chew at their supper.

“I’m glad to have you here.” She admits, eyes fixed on her meat, not on him. “I was managing fine on my own and I never thought that I was lonely, as such. But I have learnt that an expedition like this is more enjoyable with company - and sometimes you even manage to do something useful.”

He laughs. “Is that any way to speak to the man who caught your dinner?”

She glares at him. It’s more a playful glare than a heated glare - or perhaps it’s heated in a different kind of way. She’s growing tired of trying to hide her feelings for this man, frankly. But she supposes she had better persevere with it, because Kate Sharma refuses to be pathetic. She refuses to be that sad spinster who fell for a man who prefers her sister.

He seems oblivious to her internal struggle. He’s grinning at her and trying to juggle with the bones from his portion of rabbit.

He’s not doing very well, as it happens.

“I’m grateful for your company too.” He tells her, perhaps a little tense. 

That’s probably because he just dropped a rabbit thigh bone and he’s worried about making a fool of himself, she decides. But he needn’t worry. She won’t tell Edwina he’s an uncoordinated flop on the juggling front.

“Well - cheers to that.” She jokes, toasting him with an imaginary glass clasped in her empty hand.

He laughs. “I mean it. Be serious for a moment, Kate. We’re quite the team. When the Queen sent me out here to defend the local farmers I never expected to meet someone like you.”

She probably ought to ask what he means by that. Someone impertinent? Someone difficult and argumentative and resolutely unmarriageable?

She doesn’t want to know the answer to that.

So it is that she sets aside the remains of her finished meal and suggests it’s time to go to bed - time to wrap themselves in their own separate cloaks on the opposite side of a modestly-sized shelter, that is.

…….

Kate wakes up in the middle of the night with Anthony’s arm tucked tight around her waist.

She swallows, takes a few shallow breaths, tries to ignore the way that the scent of him fills her nostrils. He’s even more intoxicating up close than he is when he’s teasing her from the back of the neighbouring horse.

She tries to gather her wits. She mustn’t get overexcited. He’s certainly only cuddling her for warmth - that’s all this is. It’s quite a chilly night, and he’s not used to camping out, and he’s instinctively reached for her to keep warm.

And when she rolls over, and when she hugs him too in turn, that’s for warmth too. Of course it is. It just makes sense for them to hold each other close and share body heat. It’s not because his fine features look so much softer in sleep, because he’s muttering quiet muffled noises and snuggling his nose against her hair.

It’s not because when he holds her like this she can pretend he’s courting her, not her sister.

…….

They don’t talk about it the next morning.

They talk about a great many other things - the chilly frost, food for the horses, whether Newton really is taking them towards a dragon. But they don’t talk about the fact they woke up in each other’s arms.

They say nothing about it, but it happens the next night, too.

…….

As the days pass by, Kate becomes increasingly convinced that they are indeed following the trail of the dragon. She’s never seen Newton follow a trail so long, so persistently. She’s got a feeling deep in her gut that this is the quarry they’ve been seeking all along.

It occurs to her that, perhaps, she might not want to find it after all. When they kill the dragon her partnership with Anthony will be over, won’t it?

“What are you planning to do when all this is over?” She asks him, carefully light, as they ride on through the forest. “I presume you’ll go back home? To the Queen’s court and your family?”

“I suppose so.” He hedges, frowning lightly.

“Anthony?”

“I might come back here sometimes, if that suits you. I think a knight ought to know how to hunt and survive by his wits in the forest. I’ve learnt a lot by your side - it’s quite different from the jousting and duelling I learnt at court.”

“You’d want to come back? To hunt with me and perhaps call in on my sister?” She asks, eyes searching his face.

“I’m sure your sister has better suitors. But I’d come back to hunt with you and to visit Daisy and Athena, of course.”

She doesn’t know what to make of that. Her sister doesn’t have better suitors - they’ve covered that before. The lack of eligible gentlemen and the fact both of them are still soundly unmarried.

But if Anthony wants to keep hunting with her and calling on the horses, she’s not going to stop him. He’s just the kind of ridiculous, wonderful man who would call on a pair of horses, she thinks.

“I think Athena will miss Hercules.” She tries, cautious, testing the waters.

“Yes. I rather agree with you. I wonder how equine friendships work and how much they miss their companions if they’re separated. Horses can hardly write letters like people can, after all.”

“We can hardly write letters. You’re a gentleman and I’m an unmarried lady.” She points out.

He looks deeply uncomfortable, now. He’s frowning so hard she thinks he might be in pain, and he’s staring between Hercules’ ears, and she’s almost concerned for his health.

“Seems a bit late to worry about that when we’ve been out here unchaperoned together for weeks. Maybe we should flout convention and write to each other. Maybe I’ll be nipping back to hunt with you all the time anyway.” He mutters.

“Maybe. You’d be welcome any time - I’ve grown used to having you around.”

That’s it. That’s the closest she can come to telling him outright that she’ll miss him.

…….

On their fourth night camping out in the forest, Anthony stops pretending to go to sleep apart from her.

He simply reaches for her the moment they settle down for the night.

“C’mere, Kate.” He mutters, already audibly sleepy. This time on the trail is taking its toll on both of them.

She ought to ask what the hell he thinks he’s doing. She ought to remind him he’s more interested in her sister, ought to point out that she’s an unmarried young lady and he’s a knight she met only a couple of months ago.

Needless to say, she does not. Never look a gift horse in the mouth, not even when it’s a gift from the most confusing man she’s ever met.

She rolls closer, her head pillowed on his arm just above his elbow, her hand resting cautiously on his waist.

He’s not satisfied with that. He scoops her right into his arms, all soft and affectionate and downright cuddly. She’s cursing herself, honestly. She’s pathetic for going along with all this, for craving these crumbs of his affection. He just wants a warm body to hold, presumably. He’s an annoying man, mostly rude, not as handsome as he thinks he is and he flirts with her sister, too.

But he cares. When he holds her like this, she can see it. When she thinks of the day with the bee sting, when he sent her home to take her leave of her family, or when she thinks of the way he keeps taking care of the horse he gave her, she can see there’s such a warmth to him, too. A protectiveness - that’s all his patronising bluster was at the beginning, just an earnest desire to protect people he’d never met from a dragon he had no idea how to hunt down.

The problem is, she’s starting to understand she might need protecting from him, too.

Ugh. She hates it. She hates how protective his embrace feels, but how dangerous at the same time. He’s such an infuriating paradox of a man, and she doesn’t know where she stands.

She knows where she’s lying, though. She’s lying right up against his chest.

“Comfortable?” He asks - or mumbles, really, against the crown of her head.

“Something like that.”

“No? You want to move? You need more - more pillows?” He asks around a yawn.

She wants to ask him where the hell he intends to find pillows in the middle of a damn forest.

But he sounds so tired, so concerned, so earnestly hopelessly Anthony.

“I just need you to hug me tighter.” She admits. A moment of horrific, vulnerable honesty. She’ll never forgive herself if he wants to argue about that in the morning.

For now, though, he seems only too happy to oblige. He’s pressed right up against her, his big hand spread warm and firm over her lower back. It feels more like a lover’s embrace than an attempt to share body heat, she muses.

At least - she thinks it does. She knows very little of lover’s embraces. No one has ever loved her like that, have they?

She nuzzles her nose more closely against his chest and pushes that thought away. Tonight, for a change, she decides to give herself permission to go to bed happy.

…….

She has a riding accident the next day.

It’s only a minor riding accident. The stupidest of minor riding accidents. She’s just staring a little too intently at Anthony’s face whilst they laugh together over nothing in particular, and then all at once Athena is spooking at something and Kate is slipping clean out of the saddle.

She’s not badly hurt at all. She’s only got some bruising on her hip and buttock, it feels like. Her pride is more dented than anything.

But all the same, Anthony is inconsolable. He’s leaping from his own saddle, dashing over to her, reaching down and fanning her face and offering her water, all at once. He’s fussing over her like her life depends on it - and like he cares about her life in particular, that too.

“I’m so sorry.” He mutters, pressing the waterskin into her hands. “It’s my fault. I should never have given you that bloody beast. I swear I thought she was a safe, steady creature, but -”

“You’re talking about Athena?”

“Yes. Damn idiot horse - spooking like that. I never should have given you such a flighty one. If I’d only chosen better you’d have been quite safe.”

She actually laughs. “I’m as safe with her as anyone could ever be on horseback, Anthony. She’s delightful and you know it. She’s as steady as any horse you’ve ever seen - admit it. Every horse will spook occasionally. It’s my own fault for losing my seat so easily. I should have been concentrating harder.”

He ignores her. He fishes some leftover food out of his pack, even though she didn’t ask for it, and mutters some more words about my fault and damn creature under his breath.

She frowns at him, takes in the situation. She hasn’t hit her head so she believes she’s thinking quite clearly. And as far as she can see, Anthony is losing his mind with worrying about her, here. That’s the second time she’s seen that - his silent panic over the bee, and now all these useless muttered words and apologies.

It’s interesting. That’s what she decides. She knows he’s a person who cares too much, in general, and doesn’t always show it in the most useful way. But here, she thinks, at least he is showing it quite clearly. Yes, to be sure, she didn’t ask for that water or those rations. But there’s something very affirming about watching him make a fuss over her. He really must care about her in particular, she thinks, for her having a minor accident to get such a rise out of him.

“We should get you home.” He says now, buckling his pack closed once more.

“I beg your pardon?”

“We should get your home. You should rest up. Go home and recover.” He mutters, still not speaking with his usual fluency.

“I’m not going home over this, Anthony. It’s only a few little bruises and a knock to my pride. There’s no need for me to take a week’s bedrest or anything silly like that.”

“All the same, I think you should go home.”

She frowns at him. She takes a deep breath, takes in the way he rakes his hand through his hair in agitation. His signet ring catches the sunlight when he does that. She’s tried to avoid staring at his hands in general, all these months they’ve ridden together. She thinks gazing at them could be dangerous, bad for her health and sanity - and anyway, she doesn’t like it when that signet ring catches her eye. It reminds her that he’s a knight of the Queen’s court, a man of status, and that the gulf which lies between them is wider than just one pretty sister.

But today, she’s mesmerised. She’s staring at his hands as they move frantically, jerkily, and wondering what all this means. He’s stopped faffing with his pack now and is instead pacing a little while he flaps about with his arms.

“What’s really going on, Anthony?” She dares to ask, soft and careful. “Why are you suddenly trying to send me home?”

“I could have lost you today. I could lose you any day you’re out here. Anything can happen in the woods.” He’s managed to come to a halt in front of her, now, but he’s still wringing his hands. “I suppose - I have realised quite suddenly that I don’t like the idea of you fighting a dragon after all.”

“What - you think I can’t do it?” She asks, affronted, standing up and drawing herself to her full height to face him.

“No. It’s not that. I know you’re very capable. But I don’t like the idea of you in danger - you’re a thorn in my side, to be sure, but somehow I’ve got attached to you.”

A pause. A silent breath. Kate breathes in, out again, finds Anthony so close she can practically taste him as she takes her next inhale. He’s looking at her strangely, his head a little tilted, as he leans closer and ever closer.

Dear God. Is this it? Is it finally happening? Is he on the verge of kissing her - even though she’s the less pretty sister?

She allows her eyelids to flutter closed. She can still taste his breath, can still sense him close to her as she leans in and -

He’s gone. He’s stepping back. She’s blinking her eyes open, fearing that she must look an utter fool, now.

“Come on.” He says briskly - as if the last five minutes had never happened. “If you’re determined not to go home, we should keep following this dragon.”

“I thought you were convinced it wasn’t a dragon? That Newton was incompetent and leading us on a wild goose chase?” She prompts him, trying gamely for their usual teasing and bickering.

He snorts out a tense laugh. “Perhaps you have me convinced at last.”

…….

The trail they are following is a dragon, it turns out.

They find that out the simple way - not by keeping track of scorched trees or murdered farmers, but by arriving at the beast’s lair and peeping down to see it there, sound asleep.

“That’s a dragon.” Kate observes drily. It’s a huge dragon. She and Anthony are on a sort of small cliff overlooking its lair, and down beneath them, the dragon is three times the size of the largest horse she’s ever seen.

But it’s fine. She’s perfectly capable of managing the situation.

“It’s certainly a dragon.” He agrees, equally dry.

“What - not going to argue with me about this one?” She asks.

That has them both laughing - but quieter laughter than usual, and more tense. There’s a dragon napping down below, after all.

“No. Not at all. But I do have one question.” Anthony offers, leaning close to her side.

She shivers a little at that. It reminds her of their night time cuddles in their cold, improvised shelters - but in the best possible way.

“Go on, then.” She prompts him, nudging him a little with her elbow. That’s the sort of tactile, teasing gesture they share quite often, after all these days essentially living together on this beast’s trail.

“How do we kill a dragon? How do we literally get a sword through all those scales? Now we are here and facing the fight I realise how ill-prepared we are.” He gives a stiff little laugh. “I know we’ve discussed fighting in general since that bear - I know all about circling and holding the rhythm.” He makes a point of saying, as if reminding her not to grow annoyed with him for his ignorance.

She nods at him. He’s right - they should have discussed this explicitly.

“I believe the underside is more vulnerable. When I killed that juvenile last year I stabbed it in the belly. The neck should be soft too. We just have to get close enough to strike that.”

“Very well. Then let’s practise our newfound teamwork.” He tells her, with just a hint of teasing in his tone. “I’ll draw its fire and you go for the guts.”

And with that, he’s gone. He’s swung into the saddle and ridden off to find a way down into the lair. He’s left before she can protest - before she can point out that drawing this creature’s fire sounds dangerous, and she doesn’t much like the sound of losing him, either.

She makes haste to follow. She urges Athena down a stretch of embankment nearby which is just about passable. She arrives at the lair to the sight of Anthony circling around and around on Hercules, guiding the horse effortlessly as the pair of them provoke and dodge the dragon.

Kate knows what she has to do. She scrambles to dismount, gestures to Newton to go join the fray and help distract the dragon.

Then she draws her sword and sneaks in as quietly as she can. She keeps to the bushes on the edge of the clearing, watches for a perfect opportunity.

She’s close now. She’s close enough to count the scales on its neck, close enough to see that the underside does indeed look weaker - a different colour and texture, just begging for her blade. She’s there. She can do this. Just a little nearer, just the right moment -

She’s so close when it happens. Maybe Anthony dodges too slowly. Maybe Hercules is tiring. Maybe it’s just sheer bad luck.

Whatever the truth is, the outcome is the same. She catches sight of the smoke out of the corner of her eye. She hears Anthony scream, Hercules whinny fearfully, and sees Anthony’s cloak go up in flames.

By sheer force of will she manages to finish her task. She manages to stab the dragon in its soft neck from the side, draws her blade back again with a long gush of blood.

The dragon crumples and falls, presumably. But she’s no longer watching. She’s running to Anthony. He’s jumped from Hercules’ back and he’s now rolling on the ground in a smouldering cloak, presumably trying to put out the flames.

She rips it off him. She tears off the smoking rag and discards it somewhere near the dragon’s body. It scalds her fingers, but she doesn’t greatly care.

“Anthony? Can you hear me? How bad is the damage?” She asks urgently, searching his face.

He’s stopped rolling now. He’s lying too still on the ground, coughing weakly. She’s kneeling by his side, taking note of the angry red marks scattered over his left cheek.

“‘M fine.” He tells her, a little hoarse. “My cloak took the worst of it.”

“What can I do? Should I take your armour off? Cold water - I should get you cold water. I should -”

He cuts her off with a kiss. Weak and scorched though he is, he lurches up towards her and presses his lips to hers. He kisses her urgently, hungrily, as if there’s nothing that matters more to him in all the world.

She kisses him back, of course. She’s no fool. She kisses him back eagerly and for a long time - or at least, longer than is wise when he’s considerably injured.

But when it’s over, and when he sinks back to the ground, she finds that she definitely needs answers.

“What was that all about?” She asks, stunned.

He grins at her. “If I’m destined to die of my wounds at least I’ll have kissed my lady first.”

She gives a breathy, anxious laugh. “You’re not going to die. You’re not allowed to -”

“No, really. I’m fine. I do believe I have some burns on my left side and I should take you up on that offer to remove my armour and find some cold water. But I’m certainly not at death’s door.”

“Yes. Very good. We should have started with the cold water - we’ve left it far too late.” She says, already getting to work on unstrapping the shoulder of his armour. “But all the same, let’s get you sorted out and then perhaps you’ll stop spouting all that nonsense about your lady.” She tries, cheeks heating, fishing for clues as to what exactly is going on here.

“Don’t call it nonsense.” He says, rolling so she can better ease his armour off his back.

He sounds tired, she thinks. Is that because of the fight, or his wounds, or this frighteningly wonderful conversation?

“It’s not nonsense?” She prompts him cautiously.

“Of course it isn’t. You’re remarkable - exasperating, but remarkable. I know you can’t see it, and you persist in believing that your sister is a more attractive prospect -”

“Because you thought it too!” She interrupts him, because that’s only the truth. “Because you flirted with her and tried to give her a horse and -”

“And I was wrong. I was utterly wrong, and I see now that you are the only woman in the world for me.” He tells her firmly. “But yes, by all means, let’s sort out my burns first and argue about this later.”

She’s in a daze as she finishes the task of removing his armour. His burns aren’t too bad, thank goodness - just as well since they’ve taken so long to tend to them. He has a little scalding on his neck, a line of angry red which leads up his arm and disappears under his shirt.

Is she supposed to take his shirt off, too? Might she be allowed to try that, one day, now he’s interested in kissing her and telling her she’s remarkable?

No. This is not the time or the place for that.

“Let’s get you to that stream at the foot of the hill.” She suggests. “You could bathe your burns there.”

“Better late than never.” He grumbles, getting slowly to his feet.

She tries to help him. She reaches for him, hands outstretched, but he bats her away.

“I can walk, thank you. I’m perfectly fine.” He tells her, a little short.

“Should I come with you to -”

“Get started on a shelter. I can take care of myself.”

She frowns at him. She’s a little puzzled. He kissed her not three minutes ago and now he doesn’t want her help?

Well - it’s nothing new. She’s always a little puzzled by this man. He tangles brusqueness and confidence and vulnerability together like no-one she’s ever known. And apparently he wants to take care of himself for now, and that’s fine. Maybe he’s a little overwhelmed with all this kissing and her fussing over him.

Hypocrite, she thinks fondly. He fusses over her all the damn time.

“Very well. I’ll set everything up for the night. But if you need anything at all, call out and I’ll come running.” She makes a point of looking him in the eye as she says it.

He nods. He tries for a grin, although it looks a little stiff on his face. And then, of all things, he leans in for a kiss - just a short one this time. Just a swift, sweet peck on the lips.

She manages to give him one more kiss on the cheek for good measure before he disappears into the trees.

…….

Kate has done a rather good job of preparing their quarters for the evening, if she does say so herself. Their shelter is a little more robust than usual, with more branches and a better covering of leaves. She has time to spare, this afternoon, as she potters around their campsite and wonders how Anthony is getting on.

It’s strange to spend a couple of hours apart from him while he sorts himself out. She’s grown used to having his constant company in recent months. Did she really spend so much time alone before he rode into her life?

She manages not to fret about him too much while he’s down by the stream. She’s sent Newton to keep him company, see, so she knows the dog will run to fetch her if there’s so much as a whiff of trouble.

When the shelter is finished, she gets on with supper. A roast rabbit - that’s mostly what they end up eating, out here. She brushes down the horses, ties them near the best patch of grazing she can find.

She’s starting to run out of things to keep herself busy with by the time Anthony emerges from the trees. He’s smiling more than he’s grimacing, she thinks, and he seems to be holding something large and brown - a rock, perhaps?

No. She thinks it might be a dragon scale.

“Are you well?” She asks, trying not to look too pathetically over-excited to see him.

“I’m much better, thank you. I bathed and left my shirt to dry in the sun. Sorry I was gone such a long time. I hope I didn’t worry you - Newton was watching over me, I noticed.” He points out, perhaps a little teasing.

“Newton is a very talented dog.”

“A moderately talented lapdog.” He corrects her instinctively.

They’re both laughing now. This is better. This is easy and comfortable, and Anthony truly does look none the worse for wear.

Kate wonders if it’s time to push her luck and try for another kiss.

No - it’s time for something even more wonderful, it turns out.

“I meant it earlier, you know.” Anthony tells her firmly. “When I said that you are the only woman in the world for me. I’m sorry that my - ah - initial behaviour towards your sister made you doubt me. In my defence, I didn’t think you were at all interested in being courted. I hope you can see that I changed my tune when it came to my attention that - perhaps - you might be open to the idea.”

She nods. She can see that now, actually. She couldn’t see it at the time because she felt so insecure and envious, of course, but it all makes sense now.

She swallows hard and has a go at telling him some of that. “I honestly couldn’t see that you were showing me any favour. I’m sorry. I had myself so convinced that you were only interested in my sister.”

“Don’t you apologise. I should have courted you better.” He says firmly.

She laughs. “No. I won’t have that. You have courted me very well indeed - a courtship of riding and laughter and dragonslaying is just what I’ve always wanted, but have never dared to dream of.”

“Good. Excellent. I was hoping you might say something like that. You see - the thing is -”

He breaks off. He takes a deep breath, holds that dragon scale outstretched before him.

He tries again.

“This is for you, if you want it. I know a ring is more traditional but I don’t have one with me on this occasion. I thought perhaps you could wear this on a necklace. I mean - what I’m trying to say is -” One more loud breath. “Will you marry me?”

“Yes.” She says easily and immediately. “I must say, I think the dragon scale engagement necklace is one of your better ideas. It suits us.”

He’s not really listening, she thinks. That’s a shame - he’s often bad at listening to compliments, she thinks, and truly appreciating his own worth as a person rather than a knight. They might have to work on that together in the years ahead.

But on this occasion she’s not going to protest too much. Because the reason he’s not really listening is that he’s striding towards her, leaning in for a kiss, pressing the dragon scale awkwardly into her hands all the while.

She clasps at it, but she wants to reach for him too. She makes a clumsy compromise, holds the dragon scale with one hand and sort of hugs it between them as she reaches up with her other hand to cup the back of his head and deepen the kiss.

It’s not the most conventional way to celebrate an engagement, perhaps. But it’s everything Kate has ever wanted - and all the sweeter because she never dared to hope it could be hers until today.