I approach and glance at the still pond. It reflects the stars and moon, rippling in a breeze too light for me to feel. It's chilly in the garden but also peaceful.
"Wine?" he asks, motioning me to sit.
I hesitate. In the real world, it's not a good idea to accept a drink from a man you're pretty sure you can't trust. I can't think he wants to do me harm - or he would've killed me instead of offering wine the first time we met. I know enough about him and this place that I'm tempted to pass.
But come on - this is wine.
"Sure," I reply and sit. Had to be stone. I wince, my butt too sore for me to sit in one spot long.
He pours then pinches and sprinkles something into it from a low, ceramic bowl.
"What is that?" I ask.
"Herbs to enhance the drink." He puts some in his as well, so I assume they're not going to kill me.
I pick up the goblet. Before it reaches my lips, I can smell vanilla and maybe cinnamon. Their faint, familiar scents reassure me, and I take a drink. The wine is dry and tart.
"How is he treating you?" the Red Knight begins, sipping his wine.
"Good. Battle is rough."
"He has shown a certain level of restraint I find intriguing."
Restraint? Really?
"He has not decided to keep you. Not the witch he expected?"
I lower my goblet, uneasiness stirring. There's a political aspect to this meeting I didn't expect. I'm not about to give the Red Knight information that might embarrass or hinder the operations of the Shadow Knight. I'm quiet, thinking of a response that won't shut the door on anything the Red Knight might be able to tell me, but will also derail this line of discussion.
"He has not performed the traditional ritual between a Knight and his battle-witch. You have failed him somehow?"
Don't. React. I'm gritting my teeth. I hate, hate the sense of feeling like I'm not good enough.
"It has the others talking as well."
"What ritual?" Dread flutters through me even as I ask the question.
The Red Knight's face is hard to read in the starlight. I wonder if he chose this place on purpose because it would be more difficult for me to read his expressions.
"Wait," I say quickly, aware he's drawn me into something I'm not here to discuss. "I don't want to know. I wanted to talk to you about a couple other things."
"Very well. But first, how do my sisters fare?"
"Great, I think. I haven't seen them much."