her gown.
Hours passed, and she ignored the food and drink that were offered to her. From deep within, she reached for courage. If Adriana were there, her lady-in-waiting would offer words of encouragement, insisting that they would be rescued. And though she knew that her friend had managed to escape, using the blade she’d stolen from their guard, she was afraid of what would happen if they caught her. They wouldn’t hesitate to take her life, in return for the men Adriana had wounded. Berengaria closed her eyes, hoping to God that the young woman was still alive.
The noise of battle rose within the air like the rumbling of thunder, and Berengaria’s heart raced as crusaders surrounded the fortress. She lost count of the dozens of armoured men who poured through the gates and tried not to stare at the death and destruction that was happening all around her.
At last, she spied Richard. He was mounted on horseback, fully armed, and his chain mail glinted with gold and silver. Tall and strong, he rode forward, his sword cutting down the men who dared to oppose him. She understood now why they named him Lionheart, for not once did he flinch in battle. When he finally spied her, she couldn’t stop the smile that broke forth. The look in his eyes was filled with relief, and she wanted nothing more than to race forward and fall into his arms.
But something reflected against her eyes, forcing her to look up. It was then that she saw the dozens of archers with their bows drawn… aimed directly at her and Joan.
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