A soft hum escaped me as I chewed the second slice, silencing Andar’s one-sided discussion of equine names.
The hint of a smile on his face scrawled into a much broader, pleased grin.
“Peaches,” I said in a rush. “I’ll call my horse Peaches.” I popped the last peach slice into my mouth and scrambled to mount the horse. I refused to let Andar know how much I enjoyed his food. “We should get going. I’d like to reach Civa Exima tonight.”
* * *
We didn’t push the horses hard, but we rode fast enough that talking was not convenient. Our path crossed a large stream shortly before high sun, and Andar insisted we rest the horses. They drank, but then Andar took the time to transform a patch of grass into oats and started removing their saddles.
I marched up to Sabir and set a hand on the saddle, stopping Andar from lifting it off. “Why are you delaying us?” I asked.
He pointed his gaze at Peaches, who was eagerly enjoying the fresh oats, and my saddle tattoo warmed. Andar smirked. “My job is to take care of the horses. We’ve been on them for hours. They need a break, even if we weren’t running hard.”
I pursed my lips at him.
He sighed. “I recognize this stream. We’re close to a small farming town that is only a three-hour ride from Civa Exima. We have time to treat the horses right and still make the city before nightfall.”
I glared at him. “The horses will not be damaged by a shorter break.”
His expression hardened, pushing his determination to win. “I told you I grew up on a farm. You cannot expect me to settle for not damaged when I know they can be happy and you can still meet the timeline you wished for this morning.” He raised his wrist toward me. “You could use this opportunity to procure some food for us. I’m sure fish live in this water.”
Fish. I winced. “I’d rather find food in this little town you mentioned.”
* * *
It wasn’t really a town. It was a row of six farmhouses with manicured grass, pristine white picket fences around front yards, and sprawling fields and orchards running behind them. Each house had a large front porch with a path that ran out to the street we rode on.
Andar broke the silence. “I don’t think you’ll find a market here, Your Majesty.”
I turned to him. “Did you know this town was nothing more than—” I waved at the street in front of us. “This?”
Heshrugged. “There is a little more you cannot see. They share a mill and a canning facility that are set farther back in the fields. We can request food from either facility—technically, you are their queen. I expect they’ll provide anything you ask.”
I sighed and straightened into a more regal posture. “I am their queen. It will be faster to just speak with whoever is in this home.”
Andar’s face was a mask, giving me no hint at what he thought of my plan. “I’ll stay with the horses.”
I swung my leg over the saddle and slid off Peaches—I really needed to rename him. Peaches did not sound like the mount of a queen.
Then again, he wasn’t raised for a queen. I’d taken him to complete my current agenda. Now I needed food for that agenda as well.
I swept up the porch of the little house, covering my clothes in a glamour to make my leather outfit appear as a sweeping royal gown with a glittering white tiara on my head.
Before I reached the door, a small fae—clearly less than ten years old—opened the door. Her mouth fell and her eyes widened. “Are you a princess?”
Another small child, two inches taller, wedged himself into the doorframe next to her and folded his arms. “She can’t be a princess because the prince is making a council. Pabi says—”
The door flew open wider. A tall, muscular adult fae cut the boy off as he bent down and swept both children behind him. “Pabi says children are not toanswer the door by themselves.” He closed the door behind him and knelt on the porch in front of me. “Your Majesty. Please punish me for the children’s insolence.”
A twinge of irritation flickered in my chest. I was glad he recognized me, but his words seemed less sincere and more like an attempt to protect his children from me. I wanted fae who were loyal—not fae who pretended allegiance on a knee while looking for any opportunity they could find to rid themselves of me. Why did nobody understand this?
I lifted my chin. “I am not here to punish children.” Disgust and disappointment dripped off my words as the kneeling fae paled in front of me.
He kept his eyes on my feet. “How can I serve my queen?”
Had my people always been so false with their fealty? Or had they been more true before my absence?
Either way would not affect my meal. “I am here for food for myself and my companion.” I gestured at Andar when the fae father lifted his head to me. “And I would like to know more about the prince who thinks he can rule my kingdom.”
