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Page 165
Ian examined his grandson's accouterments with some care. Walter glanced at Sybelle and caught her looking at him. She smiled sunnily, seemingly not at all put out by the family teasing, and Walter immediately forgot both the mild embarrassment Simon had caused him and his previous night's frustration and sleeplessness. All that remained to disturb him was a regret that he could not take part in the tournament so that Sybelle could see how good he was.
Walter thought he might have taken the prize. Richard might be as good a jouster as he was or even better, but Walter did not think that Richard really intended to compete. Simon was out of the tourney, too; the groom did not take part in wedding tourneys. There was too much chance that if he did, he would not be able to perform satisfactorily in the principal act of the celebration. Of the remaining men who might compete, Walter thought he himself probably was the most skilled. He moved his shoulder experimentally.
"No," Sybelle said softly into his ear, having come unnoticed to his side. "No, it is not healed. You cannot hold a shield against the buffet of a lance."
Walter looked down at her. "It is going to be a very uncomfortable marriage for me if you are able to read my thoughts," he said reproachfully.
"A blind idiot could have read your thoughts just then," Sybelle rejoined, smiling. Then she put a hand on his arm and said more seriously, "I am not sorry you cannot fight, my lord. I know it is very silly of me, but I would fear for you."
"Do you think me such a looby that I cannot hold my own in a joust?" Walter asked, but there was no anger or sharpness in his voice. The question was only posed to draw from Sybelle the declaration he wished to bear.
"You know that is not so," she replied on cue. "But when something one desires very much is almost within reach, does not everyone fear that thing will be snatched away by some unexpected circumstance? Or am I more foolish than most?"
"Not if I am, to you, that desirable thing," Walter assured her softly.
"Perhaps it is wrong to admit it, but I would not wish to lose you now." Suddenly mischief crept into Sybelle's expression. "It would be too much, after all the trouble I have had to make up my mind, to have to begin again."

 
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