Bear put a hand on my shoulder and glanced down at me, fierce expression softening. But his voice was razor-edged. “He’s a moth to flame, Cornwall. I’d think carefully before I kindled any fires.” Then he lifted his glass to the duke. “May Tristan bring you back exactly the bride and all the happiness you deserve.”

I tensed, waiting for the duke to lash out. But he left me with a stiff bow, lip curled, not bothering to avoid jostling the few dancers left in the courtyard.

Veery clinked his glass to Bear’s. “I’ll drink to that,” he muttered.

Bear bent his head, forehead creased in worry as he eyed me. “Are you all right?”

“Am I all right?” I glanced after the duke’s retreating form. “What if he—”

“Don’t worry, Seneschal-elect.” The muscular boy grinned, scarred lips curving in a real smile that improved his whole appearance. “Bear’s been around too long. He’s untouchable.”

“Shut up.” The guard rolled his eyes. “Selah, I wasn’t able to introduce you to Veery at the tournament this afternoon. Seneschal-elect, Lord Bedivere. Veery, this is Selah.” Bear jostled him, familiar and easy, sloshing his drink a little.

“Oh, well done,” Veery scoffed, but he was smiling.

“Oh! Veery. The friend with the—the scarecrows. From when you were little.” I glanced between the two boys, abruptly charmed, though it seemed unlikely that such a rangy, thorny creature had ever been a child.

“You total prat.” Veery clapped a hand on Bear’s shoulder and gave a single, sharply delighted laugh. “Quick bit of advice, mate: don’t tell pretty girls that story.”

I blushed and looked away, scanning the room. “Weren’t there four of you?”

“Yes,” said Veery. “Kay and Tristan decided to skip our encounter with his most charming uncle.” He nodded after the Duke of Cornwall’s back.

“They don’t get along?” If Tristan and Bear were friends, surely Tristan was nothing like his uncle.

“Cornwall doesn’t get along with anybody,” Bear said, scowling. “He only approached you to make trouble in the first place.”

Veery nodded. “That’s the duke, all right. And speaking of making trouble . . .” He cut his eyes at Tristan and Kay, who’d been joined by a few other boys and a very pretty dark-haired girl. “My services are required elsewhere.”

Bear smirked. “I’d expect nothing less.”

“See you later, mate. Seneschal-elect—” Veery grinned and pressed a hand to his heart, making me an irreverent little bow. Then he tossed back the rest of his drink, clapped Bear on the shoulder, and was gone.

“Nice to meet you,” I called sheepishly after his back.

Bear gave a quiet laugh at my side. His warm breath smelled faintly of liquor, but the drink hadn’t dulled his words. “Do you promise you’re all right?”