Templar Knight, Forbidden Bride

She began a second verse. Her voice floated over the melody echoed by the harp, and suddenly the words smacked into his brain. Know you the silver swan?

He sucked in his breath.

Over the edge of his wine cup he glimpsed a movement at the back of the hall. A black-cloaked figure stopped, then crept forwards again, advancing step by step like a cat. Closer, now. A few arm-lengths more and he would be able to make out the man’s features hidden under the loose hood.

The stranger’s hard blue eyes studied the throng of listeners, then peered at Leonor. She drew the song to a close and raised her head expectantly, her hands poised over the harp strings.

An odd silence descended over the hall. No one moved. No one so much as coughed or cleared his throat. The silence stretched until the humming in his brain set his teeth on edge.

It must be now. Answer with the correct response. He should have spoken before, but he could not bring himself to believe Leonor was involved. Now, hearing the words for the second time in two nights, there was no mistaking it.

Still, he hesitated.

He must speak. As soon as she delivered the message to him, her task would be complete and she would be safe. Then he could leave Moyanne, leave Leonor in the protection of her uncle, and ride away from the sweet torture he endured every minute he was in her presence. Every league he put between them drew the danger away from her.

He opened his mouth, but before he could get a word out, a gruff voice spoke from the shadows.

‘The silver swan, lady? It sings but once, then dies.’

Reynaud froze, an icy hand clamping his spine. That was the correct response. But who…?

Leonor sat without moving, her eyes on the stranger. A pulse throbbed at her throat.