She clung to him, trying not to cry. Their perfect, romantic afternoon, ruined. They wouldn’t have time to ride back up to the secluded valley now, even if the entourage didn’t have to return to the castle until tomorrow. She needed his touch even more now, now that there was the chance she would lose it.
Someone — she didn’t know who — made them eat, made them sit down, made them rest. Her whole attention was turned to Isaac, trying to run away from herself, from her fears and thoughts. She refused to be parted from him for any reason, clinging to his hand the entire evening and all through the packing up the next morning.
He wasn’t as successful — tears shimmering in his eyes before clinging to his eyelashes as they slowly rolled down his face, and he didn’t care that others could see, that he was being weak and vulnerable in front of them. All he cared was that he might lose someone else that he cared about, and he didn’t know if he’d cope this time around.
He refused to leave her side, somehow moving through the rest of the day on auto-pilot, his arms moving around her waist, his chin resting on her shoulder as he just held her.
No one tried to talk to the two of them, really, all the way home. She let herself think that, home, now that it might not be an option any more. She could feel the Prince’s eyes on them, Cora’s ladies, but it was as if the concern was deflected away by the mutual depth of their fear.
The party arrived at the Hale castle mere hours before the Kentish cortege arrived. Summer bathed hastily, suffering herself to be parted from Isaac long enough for that, but refused Cora’s offer of attendants to help her dress or brush her long copper hair. She insisted Isaac do that. Just as when he was to fight Sir Kit, she wanted everything she could have before things changed.
Before they ended.
She wore the blue dress — Hale colours, Cora had told her — and clutched Isaac’s hand as the court assembled to greet the Kentish folk. Maybe the knight was wrong. Maybe he’d seen some other lady; maybe he’d wished himself into believing.
But something deep inside whispered he was not wrong.