“You do have a job to do,” Isobelle agreed. She knew she needed to infect Gwen with some of the wild hope that had lit up inside her own chest when she’d realized what she was watching in the jousting lists. That hope made something flutter behind her ribs, gave her prickles between her shoulder blades—made even Isobelle, for whom boldness was a way of life, sound uneven. The noise of the tavern probably covered that, too.

She had an inkling Gwen might be susceptible to that kind of hope. She might play at practicality, but no woman would masquerade as a knight in shining armor without a spark of romance and imagination in her soul.

“Your job is to keep knocking them flat.” Isobelle injected her voice with confidence. “With your helmet on and visor down, who’s ever going to guess you’re a woman? It won’t even occur to them. Sir Evonwald wasn’t a nobody, that was a proper win. And wasn’t it glorious?”

“You saw through me,” Gwen protested. “And when they do find out—I don’t even know what they’ll do to me, there’s no precedent. I know it’ll be bad.” But even as Isobelle searched for a reply, the corners of Gwen’s mouth flicked up, trying and failing to hide her smile. “It was pretty good, though, wasn’t it?”

“He landed square on his butt,” Isobelle crowed. “He’ll be waddling for weeks, and the ladies of the court thank you. He’s an absolute lech, anything that slows him down is a gift. But truly—unless you showed all the members of the court the engraving on your sword, then why would they notice?”

“I didn’t show it to you,” Gwen protested. “You grabbed it. And they won’t need that kind of clue, not once they’re paying attention. Barely anyone was watching this time.”

“Even when people do watch, they don’t see. Not if they aren’t expecting what’s there in front of their eyes.”

Gwen picked up her ale, cheeks pink, but then put it down again. “Why are you doing this?” she asked finally. Isobelle thought she saw a glimmer of something—a hint of that hope?—hidden behind her scowl. “Are you just bored being a lady, and want some kind of adventure?”

“No,” Isobelle replied firmly. Staring down the approach of her own doom was a lot of things, but she could honestly say that boring wasn’t one of them. “I just think it’s wonderful. Don’t you want to see how far you could go?”