I waited. Poma snorted into my hair.
The fanfare sounded with a blare of trumpets. “Time we were off,” Sam said, sketching a quick bow before he headed for his own horse. “Good hunting.”
“Good hunting.” I hooked my foot into the stirrup and swung astride, taking a moment to arrange my split skirt around the saddle.
We rode out into the courtyard, the packed masses making way before us. It was odd, leaving with the hunt that day—being watched by the crowd instead of watching along with them from the balcony. Had I caused a panic in the women’s wing when I wasn’t in my bed that morning? Well, they had to know where I was now.
If Princess Angelique was observing from above, I couldn’t see her behind the filigreed screen. It was just as likely it was one of her headache days, and she wasn’t there.
I found I was attracting more than my share of stares. I wasn’t sure whether it was because I was a sorceress, simply because I was a woman, or both. It felt peculiar to be garnering the most attention in a hunting party that included a bespectacled lion, prowling back and forth in the courtyard and making the nearby horses prance nervously away. But I supposed the crowd was long used to the lion by then.
Across the bridge, the great ironclad doors opened, and the portcullis rose. Overhead, a dark bird circled. Something clutched in its talons glittered in the early dawn light. But we were thundering over the bridge before I had a chance to see more.
Cheers rang out from the assembly behind us as the doors swung closed again. Within minutes, we had galloped through the abandoned town and slowed to enter the woods.
The horses’ hooves crunched through leaves and needles. It was a brisk late-autumn day. The air was dry and chill, carrying the promise of winter. It was warmer than the mountains at this time of year, though. Back home, fat flakes of snow would have already turned the peaks white and begun to drift onto the steep paths and sloped rooftops lower down.
We wove our way deeper into the trees, turning to the left orright according to some timetable I couldn’t figure out. My sense of direction abandoned me not long after the castle vanished from sight. Within half an hour, I was helplessly lost. I hoped someone knew how to find the way back.
“When the princess arrives,” said a huntsman behind me, “we should give her a fairy-tale wedding.”
“What do you mean?” asked his companion.
“Leave her in the woods with a bag of breadcrumbs!”
That would be Max and Harry, I had no doubt. Clem swore at them in dialect too thick to be comprehensible, although the intent was clear. Their nonsense felt strangely comforting. If I was heading into the depths of the forest again, at least I was headed there with the same band of rogues as last time.
For the most part. We were a sizable hunting party. Armed guards, seated atop dauntingly large destriers, accompanied the king and his twelve huntsmen. And there was also, of course, one enormous lion. Sight hounds and scent hounds loped alongsideus.
Given our random route, it would be impossible to hunt in the usual way, with additional dogs strung out through the woods at predetermined points. No one had bothered to tell me what we were doing instead. No one had given me a weapon, either, not so much as a cudgel to club small game.
It wasn’t long before we encountered the peculiar denizens of the forest of Tailliz. Up a small slope, I spied what I thought was a stag, until I noticed it had no fur and the tentacled proboscis of a star-nosed mole. It bounded away in fright as we came close. None of the hunters tried to bring it down. The dogs didn’t give it chase, either, but whined in dismay, crouching low on their haunches until it disappeared.
Once it was out of sight, King Gervase surprised me for a second time by maneuvering his courser next to Poma and matching my pace. On his other side, one of the huntsmendrew his own steed close by and watched me warily. The lion was never far from the king, either, and I could feel Poma tense as the great cat approached. I would have to handle her carefully to keep her from shying. I wondered whether Gervase planned to keep his promise to discuss our wedding plans. It seemed an odd topic for the present circumstances, but I imagined that rulers often had to multitask. My stepmother certainly never aimed for one goal when it lay in her power to aim for seven.
That wasn’t what was on his mind at all, as it happened. “So, sorceress,” he said. “If we are attacked on this day, what can you do to offer us protection?”
I blew out a sigh. This would be a short conversation; there was so very little to say.
“Almost nothing, Your Majesty,” I admitted. “My greatest magical talent is rapid hair growth.”
He looked at me blankly. “Hair growth?”
“I suppose it might confuse the kind of creature that is bewildered by a hat. Let us pray we are attacked by a parrot or a small dog.”
He laughed. A nice laugh—cheerful, loud, and unrestrained. I likedit.
The lion, on the other hand, remained unamused. “Small dogs,” he sniffed, “are an unlikely threat. And easily defeated by other means. We would not need to employ your dubious ability.”
“She knows that, Lion,” the king explained patiently. “It was a joke.”
“I fail to see the humor in poor tactics.”
“I tried to tell Princess Angelique I wasn’t a very powerful sorceress,” I said, “but I’m not sure she cared to hear it. Surely the huntsmen must have told you how useless I was in the battle against the spider wolves.”
“Some of my huntsmen,” Gervase responded, his eyes sliding to the one riding next to him, “have their own opinion about those events.” The man in green looked away without replying.
The lion drew his mouth into a snarl. “Huntsmen,” he growled. “You have no huntsmen.” His teeth were bared. Poma would have bolted if I hadn’t kept a tight hold on her reins.
