I turn to face the Red Knight. He's keeping his distance, but he's got a look on his face that says he's as interested in talking to me as I am him.
New start. No more cowering wallflower for me.
"He'll get over it," I proclaim.
The Red Knight says nothing. He appears to be trying not to smile.
"Hey, can we talk?" I ask, closing the distance between us. "I have some more questions."
His blue gaze is on the hallway, as if he doesn't want to get caught talking to me. "We may. I have questions for you as well."
"Hmmm. Okay. I guess that's fair." I find myself momentarily caught in gazing at his noble, chiseled profile and hoping he's not the Betrayer. He's a pretty boy compared to the Shadow Knight, and I'm not sure two more handsome men exist. "When and where?"
Blue eyes settle on me, wary yet amused. "Two candlemarks, by the well at the center of the gardens."
Candlemark. It's gotta be a measure of time. Except I'm not really sure how long that is.
At my blank look, the Red Knight allows a small smile to slip. "I shall send someone to find you."
"That'll work," I reply. "I better go for now. Shadow likes to use his axe on people."
"Indeed. It would be wise if you did not tell him about our plans."
"Got it." With a smile, I turn away and start down the hallway.
I don't see the Shadow Knight but assume he'll find me when he realizes I'm not following.
"Battle-witch!" It's my squire and he sounds frantic.
Facing him, I wait as he emerges from the intersection I just passed and hurries to me.
"You should not wander off!" he chides me. "The knights here will do terrible things to you, if they catch you! You'll be -"
"Deflowered and beheaded. I know." I roll my eyes. "C'mon. Take me to wherever I'm supposed to be."
The poor kid rarely interacts with me without ending up confused or uncertain. He takes my hand and tugs me down an adjacent hallway. I don't know how he knows his way around. I'm soon lost. The hold is a maze of hallways, stairs, and closed wooden doors that all look alike. There are no windows to help me orient myself. For all I know, he's taking me in circles.
We arrive to a hallway that looks like every other one, except it has a dead end. One of the doors is cracked and the squire pushes it open.
The bedchamber is more impressive than the foyer. There are thick rugs in jewel-toned colors covering the stone floor and lining the walls, a huge hearth taller than I am on one side, a four-poster bed that's at least twice as large as a California King, numerous trunks and wardrobes, a dining area by the corner nearest the door, and a bench seat beneath the windows.