Darcy Branwyn

Excerpt From Worth Fighting For

Alana went to the bed. Tucking her shift around her, she sat cross-legged. She took up one of the swords, turning it this way and that, watching the firelight flicker over the mirrored finish.

She frowned about her plan to have John lie with her. What if he didn’t want to? Just because he was a young man didn’t mean that he would.

Three years ago, she’d had feelings for a young knight. It had been a silly infatuation, but she’d thought he might share her feelings. There’d been a ball at a neighboring castle. Alana was the lady fair, at least in her mind, and thought any man should be thrilled to dance with her.

But they weren’t.

Especially not Sir Robin.

He’d snickered and had told her that she was too tall. He suggested that she would be better off in the lists with her sword than on the dance floor. His companions had laughed right along with him, teasing her and calling her a boy.

She had never felt the same about herself after that.

Her eyes burned and a tear fell onto her sword, forming a droplet on the oiled steel. What if John really did turn her down? What if he thought she was too tall or too masculine?

There was still hope. He was, at least, her friend. At least she thought that he was. After she’d spent more time with him, maybe she could simply tell him of her dilemma and then ask if as her friend he could help her. Surely he could do that for a friend.

Sighing, she put her swords away and dowsed the candles on the wall, and then crawled under the covers. Alana wiped her eyes and took a deep breath. Tomorrow, she would begin some serious training, and that was all she needed to think about.

At least for the next twenty-four hours.