Gerardine's gaze was pinned to the fan of cards in her hands, lips pressed together with a tiny twitch at one corner betraying her feigned indifference. Renault watched her with an amused glint in his eye and a smirk playing on his lips. "Well?" he prodded.
"I am... in?" she ventured, the uncertainty in her voice obvious to Renault.
"Are you or aren’t you?" he teased, the chuckle in his voice echoing around the opulent room.
With a furrow forming between her brows, she pushed the words out firmly, "Yes, I’m in."
"Lay 'em down," Renault commanded, spreading his own cards out with a flourish.
Once their cards were laid down, Renault's laughter boomed, filling the space with mirth as he raked in the last of Gerardine's coins. She stared, baffled, at the victorious hand before her. "How did you do that?"
Sweeping up her money with the expertise of a seasoned conman, Renault couldn't hide his delight. "I thought for sure you'd be a challenging opponent at cards, because you’re so expressionless." He leaned back, the chair creaking under the weight of his satisfaction. "But you have so many tells. It’s like you’ve never played cards in your life."
Gerardine blinked, the admission slipping out, "I haven’t, your majesty."
Renault gaped at her as if she had sprouted two heads. "No! How old are you? Have you no friends?"
With a shrug of one shoulder that could've meant anything, she replied, "I am twenty-two and no, I do not have any friends, sire."
Flipping the cards between his fingers, Renault decreed, "Well, you have one now. No more of this acquaintance talk. I declare I am your friend."
"Hmm," Gerardine hummed, her head tilting as if weighing the sincerity of his words.
"What?" Renault's eyes narrowed, searching her face.
"Nothing." She looked away, then added, "But, sire, your ability to read people, even those trying to hide their reactions and emotions, should be helpful not just in the sparring ring but also in statecraft and diplomacy."
Renault mulled over that, his smile dimming as he considered the implications. Then, Gerardine's voice broke through again, "Oh, and there’s something else."
He perked up. "What?"
"How are you able to move so quietly?" she asked. He could see the sword master had been curious about this for a while.
Renault leaned back once more, nostalgia coloring his tone. "Ah. Well, that’s a long and personal story."
"I apologize, sire, if I have—" she began, but he waved her off.
"None necessary. I don’t talk about it much, but I will with you."
A flush spread across Gerardine's cheeks as she ducked her head. "I am honored, your majesty."
His lips pressed into a thin line, and he shared a fragment of his past, "When I was a boy, my mother, the queen, got very sick. She had headaches all the time. But I wanted to see her all the time. I thought if I learned to be quiet on my feet that she might get better, a child’s notion, and that I would be able to be with her more. That’s all. Anyway, it’s second nature to me now to step lightly."
"Thank you for sharing that with me, sire," Gerardine said softly.
"Don’t thank me too much." Renault's voice held an edge of mischief, catching Gerardine off guard. Confused, she blinked up at him. "I’m not just sharing with you to tell about my woe-is-me princely story. I’d also like to hear something in return." His smile was downright impish.
"Oh. What... would you like to know?" Her voice was hesitant.
"You’re an orphan, yes?" Renault leaned in closer, his eyes trained on her face. It was like he was back on the hunt.
"Yes, sire," she said, not able to look away from his gaze.
"What’s the story there?" He leaned closer, invading her space. His gaze was intense, almost invasive.
"Um, I don’t know, sire. When I was just a baby my master took me in and raised me. He said a traveler came to his door and asked for his help. Then the traveler left." Gerardine's eyes dropped to Renault’s lips, an inexplicable heat rising to her cheeks. She turned her face away quickly.
Renault frowned, disappointed. "Hmm. That’s not a lot of information."
"No. I doubt, sire, that I will ever know about where I came from or who my parents are. Or were." A moment passed, heavy with unspoken thoughts.
Renault pondered the enigma before him, thinking, "Why does he smell so... good?" The thought startled him, and he shook it off vigorously.
"Well, that is a bit too somber for my taste. Let’s drink!" Renault clapped his hands together, eager to shift the mood.
"I do not drink, your majesty," Gerardine admitted, as demure as a nun.
Renault's shoulders slumped, his exuberance deflating. "Is there nothing you do for fun?"
She opened her mouth to speak, "Sword—" but Renault beat her to the punch.
" —play," they finished in unison. The two smiled at each other. Gerardine turned away and bit her lip.
***
The sparring grounds were tense as Renault and Gerardine faced each other down, a stance they were both now used to. It had been another week of their matches, meals, and meetings. They had fallen into a routine of talking—which consisted mostly of the king trying to pry new bits of information from the sword master—training, and Renault begging to hunt or play with Gerardine. She was a rock, however, so they locked eyes now in the sparring ring—two fierce gladiators in a dance of wills. "In a life and death fight, you will want to use every advantage you have. Your skill of quiet movement is one," Gerardine lectured, her voice stern.
"Are you suggesting that I sneak up on my opponent and kill them?" Renault's brow arched in mock horror, the idea of such underhanded tactics seemed unbefitting advice from the dutiful sword master.
Gerardine smirked, unfazed by his sarcasm. "There is no honor in wasting one’s talents or dying on the field of battle because you were too cowardly to use your tools. You especially, sire. Your entire kingdom depends on your survival."
A spark of understanding flickered in Renault's eyes, and he grinned like a child who'd just solved a riddle. "Got it."
"Good. Now block me," she commanded, lunging forward.
Renault moved with surprising agility, his wooden sword intercepting hers with a satisfying 'thwack'. Not missing a beat, he landed a punch in her gut that made Gerardine's breath hitch. She didn't let it show. Renault, encouraged, swung overhead, aiming to end their mock duel with a decisive blow.
