and strong, the man adored his wife and treated her as such. Murie couldn't have chosen a better husband and was happy for her friend's happiness. They all made their way below, chatting about this and that and sundry, and once they reached the hall where the tables were set up and food was being circulated, Lord Reynard ushered them to an open spot above the salt. He then kissed his wife's cheek and excused himself to have a word with one of the other knights, promising to return quickly.
Emilie watched her husband go with a fond smile. "He will get caught up in a political discussion, and it will be the end of the meal before he thinks to come back and eat."
"Don't you mind?" Murie asked.
"Not at all," Emilie said with a laugh. "It is rare we come to court, and I like to see him enjoy himself. He has been working so hard since the plague rolled through." Her brows drew together with concern as she watched her husband disappear into the crowd.
Murie nodded solemnly. Castle Reynard had been more fortunate than most, losing few of their people,but the plague was terrifying all the same. Murie had been worried sick about her friend all through that horrible time, and knew Reginald had been as well - especially after he'd learned his wife was with child. If he'd lost her and the babe, Murie suspected it would have been a blow from which he might not have recovered.
"Besides" - Emilie turned back to Murie with a laugh - "I think he just rushes off to allow me time alone visiting with you. He knows how close we are and how I look forward to seeing you." Murie smiled widely at this claim and gave her pregnant friend a hug. "And I always look forward to seeing you as well. You are the closest thing I have to family, Emilie."
"Oh, hush. Do not speak so loud. You shall hurt the king's feelings should it get back to him," Emilie cautioned.
"Aye," Murie agreed, glancing around to see if anyone was close enough to have heard. She really didn't wish to hurt the king's feelings. He'd been kind in his way, and she was grateful for it, but the man was rarely here. He was more like an uncle to her, while Emilie was like a sister.
"So, how did you sleep? Did you dream of your future husband?" Emilie teased, clearly to lighten the subject. When Murie hesitated, Cecily burst out with the news, saying,
"Aye, she did - and he was very handsome!"
Emilie's eyes widened incredulously at the maid, then she shifted to a blushing Murie. "What?"
"I... well... I am sure it was just a dream," Murie said finally. Trying to drop the subject, she added, "You do not think that Reginald minds that we are so close, do you? He - "
"Oh, no, no, no," Emilie said firmly. 'You are not changing the subject. Tell me all. Did you really dream about someone?" When Murie nodded and shifted uncomfortably, Emilie asked, "Was it someone you know?
Murie let out her breath in defeat. "Nay, I do not know him."
"You do not?" both Emilie and Cecily exclaimed at once.
"Is he handsome?" Emilie asked after taking some time to get over her apparent surprise.
"Aye, he is very handsome," Murie murmured.
"What does he look like?" Cecily asked.
"Yes," Emilie echoed eagerly. "What does he look like?"
"Well, his hair was very dark - black, I think - and he looked ..
. like him!" she finished with amazement as her glance landed on a man seated across the hall. Murie stared at the man in the faded blue doublet with wide, fascinated eyes. Her chamber had been dark in her dream, and she hadn't seen him as clearly as she was seeing him now, but she was sure it was the same man. He had the same long black hair that had felt so soft as it brushed against her cheek, the same proud face, the same wide shoulders she recalled clutching in her dream. The man was gorgeous.
"Who?" Emilie glanced around, trying to follow Murie's suddenly stunned gaze. "Which one is he?"
"The man in the blue doublet and green cotehardie. Just across the room. With the dark hair and strong wide shoulders and soft lips."
"Soft lips?" Emilie's head shot back around.
"Well, he had soft lips when he kissed me in the dream," she said. Then she frowned. "But firm. Soft but firm." Emilie stared at