“Since when are you the royal messenger?” Janus asked as she was tossed into the hall.
“I’ll become the royal jester if you pay me well enough.” Gemellus teased, shutting the door behind them. He nodded at her and hummed to himself as he walked away.
Loitering in the hall, Janus raked her hands through her thick black hair and smoothed down her simple white tunic. If she walked into Evander’s office looking a mess, he would give her that look. She hated that look—disappointment, and oncoming punishment.
A soft rug trailed the hall, and thin tables lined with copper plates and decorative vases sat beneath portraits of royalty and decorated officers. One door hung open, and Janus squeezed through it, gently pulling it closed behind her.
Evander sat at his neat and orderly desk, quill in hand, as he carefully penned a letter. He looked so much older than twenty-four. After observing his darkened eyes and tired countenance, most people who met him placed him in his thirties. Yet, his hair and clothes were ever neat and tidy, the brunette waves falling to the collar of his kurta.
He sat back with a sigh, eyeing Janus. Seeing she looked orderly for once, he did not chide her appearance. “Are you packed yet?” He did notwait for a response but instead shook his head. “Or have you not even begun?”
“The latter,” Janus admitted, shimmying closer to him. “Are you sure you won’t go?”
“I have too much to do.” Evander denied, tapping his quill on the desk before he rose and walked to the door, pulling it back open. Satisfied, he returned to his chair.
Many years ago, Janus recalled her father telling her about the Badulf-Esseg Ball and Evander promising Eros they would all attend together the next time the event was held.
Now the day had come, and she would be going alone.
Evander read her thoughts. “I’m sorry, Janus. But think of it this way. Without me breathing over your shoulder, you have more opportunities to meet a strapping young lad . . . or lady.”
“This again?” Janus folded her arms. “You’re unwed yourself, but you keep bringing up my lack of a love life?”
“Believe me, Father gets on my case enough as it is.” His eyes shot to the door, and he rose to ensure it was still ajar. Satisfied, he walked away, picking up a stack of books on his desk and sorting them on the bookshelf.
“I couldn’t flirt with a camel.” Janus lamented. “Once I open my mouth, the suitors will run.”
“Mime for them, then,” Evander smirked as he straightened out a row of books. “You are the first princess of Thuatia, a respectable, intelligent, and promising young lady. You drink tea with whoever invites you and smile at everyone. I’m sure they won’t expect anything further.”
“Sounds daunting.”
“You always liked a good challenge.” Evander finished straightening a row and returned to the door to ensure it was still open. Janus wasn’t sure why he acted like this. Nor did he seem aware of his odd behavior. For years, Janus had watched him check his office or room door three times to ensure it was open. Only three.
“Well, I guess I’ll go pack.” Janus swiveled on her heel but moved with unenthusiastic labor.
“How about this?” Evander tapped his fingers on the back of his chair. “Go check on your horse at the stables. It’s her first long ride, afterall. Ensure she’s been properly packed and provisioned. More exciting, no?”
“I suppose.”
“And I’ll have a servant pack your trunk so it actually gets done,” Evander added. “Don’t worry. I know what you’ll want to take.”
“You’re a lifesaver.” Janus bounced on her heels before sweeping out the door, emerging halfway into the hallway, grabbing the door frame, and swinging back around. “Don’t forget the books!”
“How could I?” Evander replied with dry humor
Satisfied, Janus departed. A few paces down the hall, she heard Evander gently shut the door behind her to finish penning his letter. As she passed her room, she noticed scattered clothing littering the floor.
Strange. She could have sworn Gemellus had picked them all up.
He must have thrown them all out again, to mess with her. Sighing, she grabbed a cloak from her chambers and hurried to the stables.
Servants and soldiers littered the palace grounds, preparing the caravan. Janus shrank into as small a person as she could feasibly manage, tucking herself into a corner to avoid the crowd swallowing the royal stables.
A pudgy man grunted in effort as he pulled a small wagon from a storage room behind her. “Janus. You’re just in time. How about this?”
Scurrying out of his way, Janus shrugged. “You’d know better than I.”
Stable master Haraj tugged annoyedly on his mustache. “Are you sure I can’t convince you to take a carriage?”
