He looked awful. A faint bruise stood out against his cheek, and he held his left arm stiffly. His knuckles, Emry noticed, were scraped and bruised, as though he’d punched something solid. There was blood on his collar, and his uniform was damp with sweat.

“Do I want to know?” Arthur asked mildly.

“I had to run laps through supper. A punishment that in no way fit the crime.” Lance grimaced as he flexed his battered hand. “I swear I was defending my honor, not ‘going around starting brawls.’ ”

Arthur sighed, and a silent moment of understanding passed between the two boys.

“I’ll have some food sent up to my room,” said Arthur, and Lance shot him a grateful look.

“You’re truly in pain?” Emry asked, remembering that afternoon’s lesson.

“Yes,” Lance said. And then, to Arthur, “Why does he look so pleased about it?”

“Because I just learned a spell to fix that,” said Emry.

Lance and Arthur exchanged a look. Lance shrugged. Arthur shook his head.

Emry glared at the two of them. It was so annoying when they did that.

“Well?” she said.

“This is a very bad idea, isn’t it?” Lance asked.

“Terrible,” Arthur agreed, holding back a grin. “But I want to see if he can do it.”

“Of course I can,” Emry boasted with more bravado than she felt. Even though she’d only done it twice. On Master Ambrosius’ canaries. But still.

“To the royal bedchamber,” Lance announced grandly, and Emry winced.

How on earth had she gotten herself invited to Arthur’s bedchamber? She sighed, wishing she’d kept her mouth shut. Still, the opportunity to attempt a healing spell on a real person . . . the temptation was too much.

They rounded the corner and ran straight into the Lady Elaine.

Emry had admired the girl’s dress at supper, but it was even more exquisite close up. Dark blue satin and stitched with pearls, with sleeves trailing yards of cream-colored silk. The neckline was so low that Emry couldn’t help but stare. And that, she suspected, was the desired effect.

“Your Highness,” breathed Lady Elaine, “what a pleasure running into you here.”

She bent forward into an overly deep curtsey, and Lance coughed. Emry didn’t blame him. Another inch, and the girl would come disrobed. Arthur gallantly took her hand and raised it to his lips.

“The pleasure’s all mine,” he said, flashing her a winning smile. “That dress is lovely on you.”

Emry stared at Arthur in surprise. She’d thought him immune to Lady Elaine’s charms—and obvious ambitions. Apparently not. Judging from the look on Lance’s face, he was similarly confused by the prince’s behavior.

“You don’t find the shade of blue too dark for my coloring?” Elaine purred.

“Eryngium planum is a favorite of mine,” replied Arthur. Lance coughed into his fist, and Emry smothered a grin.

The girl blinked at him, confused.