The last soul in Christendom to whom Bayard wished to speak was undoubtedly Simon de Leyrossire. All the same, ’twas most intriguing that the man chose to leave now, and most uncharacteristic for him to cede defeat.
Curiosity brought Bayard down to the bailey, his chemise soaked with sweat once again. He eyed Simon’s entourage, nigh all packed and mounted in preparation for his journey.
Simon truly did intend to leave.
“I am surprised by your choice,” he said by way of greeting.
Simon smiled in that unctuous way he had. “Why? ’Tis more than clear that the lady’s hand will be your own.”
Bayard found himself wary, for he recalled all too well how untrustworthy this knight could be. “I had no idea that ’twas so evident.”
Simon laughed. “I have eyes, Bayard, and ears!” He winked. “And I
