He folded his arms and sniffed the air, feigning contempt. “Too good for help as always, I see.”
“Hold your tongue,” she said.
As Ember leaned forward to unbind her legs, heavy footsteps reached her ears. She fumbled with the long cloak, desperate to be on her feet before anyone else arrived. Having Alistair see her like this was one thing, but anyone else . . .
“What’s this?”
She gritted her teeth, not looking up at the questioner, whose voice was already lighting with mirth.
“She took a spill down the stairs,” Alistair said. Ember threw him a venomous glance.
The man Alistair had spoken to looked at her, arching an eyebrow. “Is this the young lass you’ve been jabbering about for the past year? Is she that eager for her calling? I’ve never considered whether you’d get to the ceremony faster rolling instead of walking, but I’m game to find out. Would you like to start over from the very top of the staircase?”
“Hold your tongue, Kael, and show some respect for Lady Morrow,” Alistair said while Ember finally kicked herself free of the cloak. “It’s not her fault no one’s bothered to fix that step.”
“Of course, Alistair.” Kael’s blue eyes were dancing beneath his wheat-blond fringe of hair. “My lady, I meant no offense.”
He winked at Ember before wiggling his eyebrows. She rolled over, horrified by the flood of crimson into her cheeks, and tried to regain some semblance of dignity.
“We’ve been so eager to meet you after all the praise our Alistair has heaped upon you.” Kael offered a sweeping bow, all the while grinning at Alistair. “But what of your champion? Didn’t you catch the lass when she fell?”
“She was on the ground before I got here,” Alistair protested. “I would have caught her if I’d had the chance.”
Now on her feet, Ember shot a glare at Alistair. “You would not. I’ll have no man catching me.”
“Feisty as ever.” Alistair laughed and elbowed Kael. “What did I tell you? She was made for Conatus.”
“Now that everyone is vertical, let’s see to proper introductions,” Kael said. “I’m Kael MacRath, a knight of the Guard.”
Ember’s training set in and she dropped into a curtsy. “Ember Morrow. It’s an honor, Lord MacRath.”
Kael chuckled. “I can’t remember the last time anyone addressed me as Lord MacRath. It’s Kael, please.”
Ember blushed again and gave him a shy smile. “Then you must call me Ember.”
He smiled, but his brow furrowed. “An unusual name.”
“My mother named me,” Ember said, shifting her weight uneasily. Her father always went into a fury when she tried to inquire about the circumstances of her birth. “I don’t know very much—only that the midwife said neither I nor my mother would survive, but a healer from Conatus came to our manor and saved us both. My mother said the healer took the tiny embers of life I clung to and breathed them into a fire.”
Kael’s rapt attention unnerved her further, so she said, “My sister, Agnes, has a proper Christian name as chosen by my father.”
“Your sister, Agnes?” Kael glanced at Alistair. “Isn’t she—”
“What are you doing here anyway?” Alistair asked, cutting off his question. “Shouldn’t you already be in the hall?”
“We were sparring.” Kael gestured to his mud-covered boots. “You know Barrow—anything to avoid a ceremony. In truth he would have stayed away, but I thought it best that we make an appearance.”
Barrow? Ember’s cheeks were burning, but they went cold when a tall, helmeted figure appeared in the hall. While watching the battle below her window, she’d wanted nothing more than to discover she had recognized Barrow. But now that he approached, she was apprehensive.
“Dallying, Kael?” Barrow asked as he approached them. “You were the one who insisted we quit the field. I thought we daren’t miss the solemn occasion.”
Though Ember couldn’t see his face beneath the steel helm guarding his forehead, nose, and cheeks, his quiet, deep voice unsettled her very bones. Despite coming upon Kael and Alistair’s laughter, Barrow did not sound amused. Encountering him here, after she’d fallen and suffered Alistair’s teasing, the very idea that she’d ever be a match for Barrow in sword fight seemed so silly it made her bones ache.
Barrow’s pitch-black cloak covered his broad shoulders, sleek as night, making her even more embarrassed about the crumpled fabric of her own cloak. Ember tried to restore some air of dignity, standing as straight as she could and inclining her head to the warrior. He didn’t acknowledge the gesture, glaring at Kael instead. Beside her, Alistair straightened up, eyeing Barrow warily.
Kael shrugged, jerking his chin at Ember. “Our guest of honor is practicing acrobatics on the way to the ceremony.”
Alistair laughed, which earned him a stern look from Barrow before he glanced at Ember.
“It’s good to see you again, Lady Morrow. I trust your journey was without incident,” Barrow said. “The Circle will be awaiting your arrival.”
Keeping her head ducked, Ember shouldered Alistair aside, murmuring, “Of course.” She had no idea if Barrow had heard her, but she felt blood draining from her face. She was already up against enough today. She didn’t need any of the Guard to think poorly of her, but especially not Barrow.
Ember tried to ignore the sound of Kael’s laughter as he continued to speak with Barrow. The swift scuffle of feet announced Alistair’s presence at her side.
“You should have let me help you up. We’d already be in the hall with the others,” he whispered. “Now Barrow thinks we’re fools and I’ll never hear the end of it from Kael.”
She didn’t answer him, miffed at his words but feeling he was right. It made her fists clench.
He wasn’t finished. “Why do you have to be so stubborn?”
“I’m sorry,” she said. She didn’t want to anger him, but it was hard to make a sincere apology as they approached the great hall and fear began to creep like frost over her skin.
Alistair touched Ember’s arm, flashing her a smile that told her he was satisfied by the exchange even if she was still irked.
The warmth in his eyes broke through her nerves, drawing a question from her she’d been trying to ignore. “You said I’ll be tested. What if I fail? I know nothing about what’s expected of me.”