send someone to attend her. If you’ll come with me, Lord Callum, I’ll show you to the knight’s chambers. We’ve reserved an honored room for you.”
I shook my head. “Thanks, but Callum’s staying here with me.” The words left my mouth without thought.
Callum’s eyes widened, and his expression grew alert.
The squire glanced between us with an open mouth. “I’ll see to your meal.” He scurried away.
“What do you mean?” Callum asked.
My hands clenched, and I felt a weird sense of hysteria at the thought of being separated from him. This was unlike me. Tanner had dumped me and I got angry and wanted to best him. It must be the bizarre circumstances. It must be that Callum was a part of home. I breathed out to calm down and pushed through the door. “I just meant we can eat together.”
“Oh.” Callum followed me into the candlelit room, and we took seats at the small table. He eyed me steadily. “Who was the guy you were staring at during the decathlon?”
Besides you? “Tanner. My ex.”
“Hmm.”
“Who are you dating? Is there a website for royalty so you can pick from an approved list?”
“I date who I like. Just preferably Irish. Maybe European. Never American.”
“Should I take offense?”
“I fear it may be my loss.”
“Your parents do know where you were born, don’t they? Texas.”
“All the more reason.”
Whatever else he would have said died with the smell of the savory dinner being carried in by the squire. “Your supper, My Lord. My Lady.” He slid the wooden plate across the table. Two bread bowls rested on top.
How long had it been since we’d eaten? The aroma of soup made my stomach clench. “Thanks.”
The squire bowed his way out of the room.
My spoon hovered over the bowl as I got a good look at the brown goop inside. My appetite left. This didn’t look like any soup I’d ever eaten. I called myself ungrateful and still didn’t stick the spoon in.
Callum dug in. “It’s good. Try it.” For the first time, he looked like one of the guys from my school. Put food in front of them, and they ate it.
I stared hard at a lump in the soup and poked it. “What’s in it?”
“Does it matter?”
“Of course.”
“Call it pork.”
My spoon dropped to the wooden trencher with a thump. “Call it pork, or it is pork?”
Callum laughed and seemed almost startled by the sound. “It’s carrots, beef, and turnips.” He sunk the spoon in, going for it, and ate a large mouthful.
I hesitated a moment and took a small bite. It tasted like vegetable beef stew, fresh, good. I could eat this. “Okay.” I rolled my shoulders and tried to think of some medieval small talk. “Maybe you can show me some of your karate tricks.”
“You’re a girl in medieval Europe. Your best strategy is to hide.”
I refrained from flicking the soup at him. “There are female fighters in medieval times. Not a lot, grant you, but some were quite famous. What about Joan of Arc?”
He arched one dark eyebrow. “You want to fight?”
“No, but maybe I’ll have to.” I didn’t know how much I should trust him. Crazy Sean was his relative, after all. DNA ran deep.
“When danger comes, your place is to seek safety.” His words sounded dated and I wondered if a touch of medieval thinking had attached itself to him along with our ability to translate.
I snorted and looked at the window. The opening was concealed by a tapestry, no glass. A terrible fear crunched my heart at the thought of my parents never knowing what happened to me. My brothers were too little to understand. None of my own goals or plans would ever be fulfilled, not here, not in this age. I wanted to go home. I wanted both of us to get home. “We’ll get out right? You’ll try?”
“We will.” His words gave me hope and I shut up and ate.
“It’s brilliant that we’re here, really.” Callum’s head turned as if taking in the medieval splendor. He ran his hand over the rough grey stone
I shook my head. “Thanks, but Callum’s staying here with me.” The words left my mouth without thought.
Callum’s eyes widened, and his expression grew alert.
The squire glanced between us with an open mouth. “I’ll see to your meal.” He scurried away.
“What do you mean?” Callum asked.
My hands clenched, and I felt a weird sense of hysteria at the thought of being separated from him. This was unlike me. Tanner had dumped me and I got angry and wanted to best him. It must be the bizarre circumstances. It must be that Callum was a part of home. I breathed out to calm down and pushed through the door. “I just meant we can eat together.”
“Oh.” Callum followed me into the candlelit room, and we took seats at the small table. He eyed me steadily. “Who was the guy you were staring at during the decathlon?”
Besides you? “Tanner. My ex.”
“Hmm.”
“Who are you dating? Is there a website for royalty so you can pick from an approved list?”
“I date who I like. Just preferably Irish. Maybe European. Never American.”
“Should I take offense?”
“I fear it may be my loss.”
“Your parents do know where you were born, don’t they? Texas.”
“All the more reason.”
Whatever else he would have said died with the smell of the savory dinner being carried in by the squire. “Your supper, My Lord. My Lady.” He slid the wooden plate across the table. Two bread bowls rested on top.
How long had it been since we’d eaten? The aroma of soup made my stomach clench. “Thanks.”
The squire bowed his way out of the room.
My spoon hovered over the bowl as I got a good look at the brown goop inside. My appetite left. This didn’t look like any soup I’d ever eaten. I called myself ungrateful and still didn’t stick the spoon in.
Callum dug in. “It’s good. Try it.” For the first time, he looked like one of the guys from my school. Put food in front of them, and they ate it.
I stared hard at a lump in the soup and poked it. “What’s in it?”
“Does it matter?”
“Of course.”
“Call it pork.”
My spoon dropped to the wooden trencher with a thump. “Call it pork, or it is pork?”
Callum laughed and seemed almost startled by the sound. “It’s carrots, beef, and turnips.” He sunk the spoon in, going for it, and ate a large mouthful.
I hesitated a moment and took a small bite. It tasted like vegetable beef stew, fresh, good. I could eat this. “Okay.” I rolled my shoulders and tried to think of some medieval small talk. “Maybe you can show me some of your karate tricks.”
“You’re a girl in medieval Europe. Your best strategy is to hide.”
I refrained from flicking the soup at him. “There are female fighters in medieval times. Not a lot, grant you, but some were quite famous. What about Joan of Arc?”
He arched one dark eyebrow. “You want to fight?”
“No, but maybe I’ll have to.” I didn’t know how much I should trust him. Crazy Sean was his relative, after all. DNA ran deep.
“When danger comes, your place is to seek safety.” His words sounded dated and I wondered if a touch of medieval thinking had attached itself to him along with our ability to translate.
I snorted and looked at the window. The opening was concealed by a tapestry, no glass. A terrible fear crunched my heart at the thought of my parents never knowing what happened to me. My brothers were too little to understand. None of my own goals or plans would ever be fulfilled, not here, not in this age. I wanted to go home. I wanted both of us to get home. “We’ll get out right? You’ll try?”
“We will.” His words gave me hope and I shut up and ate.
“It’s brilliant that we’re here, really.” Callum’s head turned as if taking in the medieval splendor. He ran his hand over the rough grey stone
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