She waved her hand toward the area reserved for the kitchens and told him they'd need twice the amount of space. She frowned over the gigantic area he'd reserved for the soldiers' quarters he planned to put on the lower level. He'd accidentally left out a buttery, too. He didn't think they really needed it anyway. Nicholaa thought otherwise.

He finally had to sit her down and discuss each of her opinions. She let him talk without once interrupting, but it didn't take him long to realize she was daydreaming again. God, she was maddening. Damned invigorating, too. She finally agreed he was right on every single point. He went back to his duties feeling content. Nicholaa waited until her husband had whistled his way across the courtyard, then called Thomas back inside to give him the new, corrected specifications. She added a large buttery to the plan, extended the kitchens and the size of the hearth, and increased the master bedchamber to twice the original size.

Royce was terribly busy the rest of the week. He told Nicholaa he'd decided not to choose the soldiers who would participate in the king's games. He would set up feats of strength instead, and the top ten soldiers from each division would earn the honor on their own.

Nicholaa thought that was more than fair. She was pleased, too, that her husband had begun to include her when he discussed his plans with Lawrence. Yet as the second week progressed, Royce became more and more withdrawn. Whenever the topic of the competition came up, he would either change the subject or simply stop talking.

Something was worrying her husband, but he wasn't ready to tell her what it was. Nicholaa was learning to be patient. In time she was certain he'd sort it all out in his mind and then confide in her.

Four weeks remained before they would leave for the games. Royce finally confided in Nicholaa. It was a warm Sunday evening. Royce asked Nicholaa to sit down. He didn't look enthusiastic, as he usually did when he was about to launch into a lecture. No, he looked terribly serious, and if she hadn't known better, she would have thought he looked worried, too.

He didn't pace, either. He stood in front of the hearth with his hands clasped behind his back.

Royce didn't want to look at Nicholaa when he gave her his news. The fear he was sure to see in her expression would tear at his heart.

"Nicholaa," he began in a brisk, no-nonsense voice. "As you know, I allowed my men to compete against one another, and those most skilled would earn the honor of representing me… that is to say," he corrected, "the honor of representing us."

Nicholaa was beginning to get worried. She'd never seen her husband act this hesitant before. She folded her hands in her lap, straightened her shoulders, and forced herself to wait until he told her the rest.

Long minutes passed before Royce spoke again. "It's finished now," he announced. "The men all know who the ten from each division are. It can't be undone."

"No, of course not," she agreed.

He nodded. "Each unit will have nine soldiers and one commander. Lawrence easily won the honor of becoming commander over the experienced soldiers."

He went into great detail outlining Lawrence's strengths. Then he finally turned the topic to the Doves. "Nine soldiers were above all the others in every competition. There was one, however, whose expertise put him well above the others. He was quite exceptional."

Nicholaa had already guessed that Ingelram had earned the honor of becoming commander. Bryan might also be one of the ten. She thought she understood then. Royce was going to leave Justin behind, and he was concerned about her brother's feelings. Justin would have to accept this decision, of course. It would probably sting his pride to watch his friends leave for the games. Still, Nicholaa thought he had quite a lot to be thankful for, and if she had to, she'd sit him down and tell him so.

Royce turned away from the hearth and walked over to Nicholaa. He pulled her to her feet, took her hands, and said, "Justin has earned the right to command the unit." He braced himself for her tears.

She looked incredulous. She shook her head. It was obvious she didn't believe him. "You can't be serious."

"I'm very serious," he answered. "He earned the right, wife."

She pulled her hands away from his and collapsed into the chair. She was suddenly so frightened for her brother that her stomach started aching. She was furious with Royce, too. How could he have let this happen?

"I don't understand," she whispered. "Justin isn't ready."

"Yes, he is ready," he countered. "He was quite exceptional in the competition," he told her again. There was a noticeable tinge of pride in his voice. "You should be very proud of him, Nicholaa. I am."

"I don't want him to participate," she cried out. "It's too soon. He needs further instruction."

"Nicholaa, look at me," he commanded.

When she looked up, he saw the tears in her eyes. He let out a long sigh. "Do you have faith in me?" he asked.

She was surprised by that question, and yet after a minute or two of reasoning, she understood why he'd asked it. That was what it all came down to, wasn't it? Either she believed in her husband or she didn't.

Royce stood by his wife's side and patiently waited for her to sort it all out in her mind. He was a little irritated when she didn't immediately answer him. He understood her hesitation, however. Her fear was clouding her judgment. Still, he knew what her answer would be.

She finally nodded. "Yes, I do have faith in you."

She stared at the tabletop when she admitted that truth. Then she turned her gaze up to his so that he could see her frown. "And now you're going to tell me I must also have complete faith in all your decisions, aren't you?"

He gave her a smile. She couldn't sit still for another minute. She stood up just as Royce sat down. "Do you believe that because I have faith in you I must also have faith in Justin?"

"No," he answered. He folded his arms across his chest and stared at her. "You should, however, have complete faith in my judgment."

God, how she hated it when he was so logical. They were talking about her brother, not an outsider, and for that simple reason she was letting her emotions control her thoughts.

"Why can't it be undone?" she blurted out.

"That question doesn't deserve an answer, wife."

Her shoulders slumped. "I imagine Justin's pleased with this honor, isn't he?"

Royce nodded. He flashed a quick grin, then forced a serious expression when Nicholaa's frown intensified. "Justin's strutting around like a rooster now. Ingelram and Bryan also won the right to participate. They're strutting, too."

She wasn't amused by the picture he'd painted. "They're boys," she cried out. "Royce, they could get killed."

He shook his head. He would have pulled her onto his lap and comforted her if she hadn't backed away from him. He decided she wasn't quite ready to be soothed yet. She needed time to feel angry first.

"They're men, Nicholaa. They're young, yes, but still men, not boys."

Nicholaa realized she was wringing her hands and immediately clasped them behind her back.

"Perhaps you'll stop worrying after I've told you just how exceptional your brother was when he competed for his place," Royce suggested.

She shrugged. He hid his smile. He knew she wanted to scream at him. She didn't, though. She was trying to accept his decision, and that pleased him very much. She'd never seen Justin train with the others and couldn't possibly know he'd developed into quite a warrior.

Royce knew, though. He'd been with Justin day in and day out, demanding perfection. Justin had measured up, the honor now belonged to him, and by God, despite Nicholaa's resistance, Royce wouldn't take that privilege away.

He patiently explained each test the soldiers were put through and told how Justin had met every challenge. In truth, he was fairly bursting with pride by the time he'd finished telling Nicholaa about the feats. And when he was done, he again told her it couldn't be undone.

"This announcement caught me by surprise," she announced. "I do have faith in you, and for that reason I assume you've considered every possibility. Do you believe the men who go up against my brother will fight fairly?"

"No," he answered. "They'll do whatever it takes to win, Nicholaa."

"Even if that means trying to break Justin's one hand to make him completely vulnerable? Even if they use their swords to try to cut his hand off?"

She was shaking with fear by the time she'd spoken those dark possibilities aloud. Royce leaned back in the chair and stared at her. "Even then," he agreed.

Odd, but his casual agreement eased her fear just a little. He'd obviously thought about those possibilities, too.

She started pacing. "I imagine you've told Justin what to expect. You've surely warned him about Baron Guy's soldiers." Nicholaa didn't wait for his agreement but continued. "Although you won't admit it, you must be a bit worried. I'm worried, too, but I guess it doesn't matter how we feel. We'll have to keep our concern hidden from Justin." She threaded her fingers through her hair, then blurted out, "Royce, if you doubt he's completely ready, then help him."

He was having difficulty following her. In the space of a few minutes she'd done a complete turnaround. She was now trying to persuade him not to worry.

She resumed her pacing. "You've given Justin back his pride," she told him. "You can't take that away now."

Royce continued to listen to her reasons for accepting this decision and it suddenly dawned on him that Nicholaa wasn't just repeating what he'd already told her.

She was actually lecturing him.

He waited until her pacing brought her close enough, then reached out and grabbed her. He settled her on his lap and kissed her.

"You please me, wife," he announced gruffly.

"Will I please you when I tell you I won't stop being afraid?"

"Yes," he answered. "Because I know you won't intervene, and I know you'll hide your fear from your brother."

She clasped his face. "Make certain he's ready," she whispered. "Teach him all the deceitful tricks they'll use. If anyone knows how to fight unfairly, it's you, husband."

He raised an eyebrow. "Thank you… I think. That was a compliment, wasn't it?"

"Oh, yes," she replied. "You didn't fight fairly when you tricked me into leaving the abbey. Had I known then what a soft heart you had, I would have realized Ulric was safer with you than with anyone else in England. Yes, you used cunning then. It certainly wasn't fair of you to trick me that way."

He kissed her again, a long, wet, hot kiss that left them both shaking. Lawrence's discreet cough made Royce reluctantly pull away.

Nicholaa looked flustered. She jumped off her husband's lap, smoothed her hair and her skirts, and smiled at the vassal. "I understand you're going to lead the experienced soldiers in William's games. Congratulations, Lawrence."

"Thank you, my lady."

"We must have a special dinner tonight," she said. She turned to Royce. "Could Justin join us?"

"If he does, the others must also be invited."

She smiled. "Cook's going to pitch a tantrum when I tell her we're having twenty guests."

Her husband shook his head. "Twenty-four," he corrected. "Two extra men from each division will go along as reserves."

"Reserves?"

"It's just a precaution, Nicholaa," he explained, "in case one or two are injured."

"Or become too ill to compete?"

He knew from the eagerness in her voice what she was thinking… and probably hoping. "Justin isn't going to get injured or become ill. Do not waste your time praying he will, wife."

She frowned at him. "I would never pray for such a thing," she muttered. She turned to the vassal, forced a smile, and said, "Lawrence, my husband must learn to have a little more faith in me. Still, he has other redeeming qualities, and so I forgive him his flaws."

The vassal didn't know how to respond to that remark. He did notice his baron was looking surprised. Then Nicholaa drew his attention again when she asked if he would order a few of the soldiers to bring the other table up from the floor below.

As soon as he'd given her his agreement, she hurried toward the back of the castle. Nicholaa knew that the sooner she gave Cook the bad news, the sooner she could get over her tantrum and down to the business of preparing a fine meal.