Then a familiar voice called, “Hey, now, that’s far enough!” Orson’s tone was jovial but firm. “I told you, Sir Gawain sees no one before or after his jousts. He devotes his pregame and postgame rituals to meditations he learned on an ancient mountaintop.”

One of the other knights got out half a protest, but Orson cut him off.

“You’ll have to see him in the lists, like everyone else.”

The other footsteps sounded again, thudding away from the tent, and then Orson himself ducked inside.

Gwen had gotten halfway stuck inside her helmet. “Thanks, Awesome,” she murmured, abandoning her attempt to hide her face. “Er, Orson.”

Orson laughed and came over to take her helmet from her. “No worries. Isobelle would have my hide if I stood by and did nothing while you got found out. Need some help?” he added, gesturing to her armor. “I promise not to kiss you like your last squire did.”

Gwen gave an uneasy chuckle and nodded, turning so Orson could get to the straps keeping her chest piece in place. “Thanks. I’m used to doing it myself, but . . .”

“But it’s much harder when your muscles are screaming in agony?” Orson finished for her, working the buckle free and prying the pieces apart so Gwen could squeeze out of them. “Really, this armor is ingenious.” He squinted, inspecting the shoulder articulation more closely.

“Thanks.” Gwen pulled her hands out of her gauntlets and began unbuckling her vambraces one by one. “I meant what I said before. When all this is done, I can show you how I make it. Make some for you too, if you want.”

Orson cast a sideways glance at her, hesitating, his expression saying clearly, When all this is done, you’re probably not going to be in a position to do anything. But what he said was, “That’d be awesome, thanks.”

Once the rest of Gwen’s armor was on the stand, Orson turned his back so Gwen could change out of her padding and into her costume as Céline.

“Look, I appreciate you covering for me with the other knights,” Gwen said, reaching out tentatively to touch Orson on the shoulder and let him know she was fully clothed again. “But, uh, you might not want to make me sound so very mysterious.”

Orson turned and raised both blond eyebrows at her. “Seriously? A brand-new knight who comes out of nowhere, who no one’s seen at any of the feasts or salons, who absolutely demolishes the competition and vanishes again as soon as he’s done so?” Orson shook his head, rolling his eyes skyward. “Sir Gawain is a mystery, you can’t avoid it. All I’m doing is muddying the waters with more mysteries, in the hope that no one spots which mysteries are the important ones to focus on.”