Chris Karlsen - Knights in Time by Knight Blindness Page B

greeting.”
    “Yes, I know but never has a woman greeted me thus.”
    To be fair, the gesture wasn’t truly mannish. Her hand was soft as a lady’s should be and
    she but pumped three times in a light motion before she released his hand.
    “Sorry, if I offended you,” she said.
    “None taken. But it is my habit to kiss rather than shake a lady’s hand.”
    “How knightly...” She gave a small, “Oh, of course,” and then said, “You’d prefer to kiss
    my hand.”
    She was catering to the madman who thought himself a medieval knight...her kindness cut
    deeper than the fine shaving razor.
    She took his hand again, turned it palm up and laid her fingers on his.
    “I’ve never had my hand kissed. I’d be pleased if you were the first.”
    “Milady.” He brushed the back of her fingers with his lips. “I am enchanted to make your
    acquaintance.”
    “Enchanted. Another first. No one has ever said they were enchanted to meet me.”
    Stephen responded with an uncertain smile.
    “The maitre‘d is waiting to seat us,” Ian said.
    As he and Alex followed behind the others, Stephen asked, “Did I put a foot wrong when I
    said I was enchanted to meet her?”
    “Well, it’s not fashionable anymore to use the term when you’re introduced to a lady. But
    you managed to make the whole hand kissing, enchanted thing work. Good show.”
    “Did she smile?”
    “Yes, quite big.”
    The strong, rich aroma of roasted meat hit Stephen as he stepped into a room not unlike a
    busy banquet hall from what he perceived. From the hum of many conversations, the clink of
    dishes from different parts of the dining area, and the faint rush of air by passing servants, he judged the room held a goodly number of people. Beneath the noise, music played. He paused for
    a moment to listen.
    “What are you doing?” Alex asked.
    “Listening. Do you know this song? It’s beautiful.”
    “It’s called, The Music of the Night. It’s from a play, a musical to be exact, called
    Phantom of the Opera .”
    “Too bad there are no words.”
    “The original song has lyrics, which are words put to music. This version is what we refer
    to as an instrumental.”
    “I know what lyrics are. I’d like to hear that song.”
    “I’ll play the original for you tomorrow.”
    A servant passed close and another blast of roast beef hit Stephen. That brought a new
    embarrassment to mind. “Alex, until I learn to do for myself, would you ask the servant to cut my filet before he brings it to the table? I don’t wish to look a fool in front of milady Crippen.”
    “No problem. So you know, the person who brings our food is called a server or waiter,
    not a servant. The cook, in this type of establishment, is referred to as a chef.”
    “Understood.”
    With a light touch, the maitre’d guided his hand to the chair he’d pulled out between Esme
    and Alex. Stephen thanked him and sat as Alex ordered a cabernet sauvignon, which was the
    finest wine Stephen ever had. It was better than the wine the king and prince served at court the few times Stephen visited the palace. The waiter served it in a glass goblet—finally something
    familiar, a goblet. He drank the first glass and half of another faster than usual. Almost
    immediately, the delicious liquid took the edge off his nerves. The tightness in his back eased as he flexed his shoulders and relaxed into the chair.
    “Music of the Night , does the title have special meaning?” he asked of the rest during a break in the conversation.
    At the mention of the songand the musical, Phantom of the Opera, e veryone at the table except Ian joined in with other melodies from musicals they liked. Alex said CDs with most of the songs they talked about were in the collection at the trailer.
    “We can listen to them during lunch breaks,” Esme told him.
    “Do you happen to sing, milady?”
    “Yes and no. I’ve been told I can’t carry a tune to save my soul. My singing is restricted
    to the shower. And