Her heart was now pounding in her ears and the shock that had weakened her limbs before was forgotten in the hot rush of anger and hatred that raced through her blood. Her instincts had changed, she realized. She had changed. She was no longer weak and helpless. She no longer cowered, rather she wanted to slip her blade from the scabbard at her waist and plunge it between his ribs.

Almost as if he knew what she was thinking, he took a small step back and frowned.

“Get out of my way,” she said, clenching her fists into balls at her sides. “I have nothing to say to you.”

He looked around as if concerned that someone might have heard. But they were well enough away from the tables—he’d seen to that—and the room was loud with its boisterous occupants.

“There is no cause to be impolite. We are old friends, are we not?”

The charming twinkle in his eyes and lazy grin that were probably fooling anyone watching them now seemed slimy to her. “We are not.”

His gaze hardened almost imperceptibly. “From what I hear, you are quite friendly. So there is no use playing the frigid maid with me.” He smiled again, with the glint of cruelty she would never forget. “Besides, I know differently.” He gave her a long, slow look that made her skin crawl and leaned in to whisper. “Perhaps I should remind you later?”

He’d obviously heard of her reputation.

She held herself completely still. It took everything she had not to react, not to show him exactly how repugnant his “offer” was to her. Her body shook from the effort as she looked him in the eye and said very slowly, “I am no longer a helpless fifteen-year-old girl to be forced by a common brute.” His gaze flared, she presumed at the word “common.” “Unless you want everyone in this room to know exactly what you are, you will step aside and not come near me again.”

His expression darkened. She’d angered him. Good. But he did not doubt her word. With a dramatic flourish, he bowed and stepped aside to let her pass. She held her back straight and strode calmly out of the Hall, not running until she reached the courtyard.

It was just after dark by the time Alex and his men rode across the wooden drawbridge. Fortunately, they’d made it just before the night bell and the porter locked the castle gates.

After dismounting, Alex pulled off his helm and gave it to his squire. He would have normally handed off his horse as well, but as the lad looked about ready to keel over with exhaustion, Alex led the palfrey to the stable himself.