He took it in stride, losing the grin, and offered me his hand. “I literally saw you in your underwear, and you’re–”
“You did not!” I cried.
“If you say so. But as you’ll have it, I apologize. But again, both moments meant nothing to me,” he said. “You need not worry.”
“My hair and what?” I asked. “My underwear?”
He shrugged.
“Grand,” I told him. “So happy to be so mortified for nothing.”
“Are you ready then?” he asked.
Twenty minutes into our journey, Cyrus had barely spoken to me, and I had barely spoken to him after he had dismissed my feelings. I had intended to punish him, but I couldn’t take it—not when he seemed happy with the arrangement.
“I’m not riding with you unless you speak to me!” I declared.
He arched a brow. “I am speaking to you,” he said.
“No, you’re not,” I argued. “You commented on the weather as soon as we mounted and then led me down this path, and that’s been it. There’s been nothing more.”
“An oversimplification, I’d say. I also commented on your grip.”
“Ugh!”
“Pray, what would you like to talk about, Your Highness?” he asked.
“Ask me about the letter,” I said. “The one I received today.”
“It’s not my business,” he replied.
“No,” I pressed. “No, it’s not. It’s not your business, but I want to talk about it. So ask me, will you?”
“What? No.”
“Please,” I begged. “Ask me what my father thinks about extending my stay here in Chalke.”
He paused. “I, uh.” Then he sighed. “Fine. What does your father think about extending your stay here in Chalke?” he asked.
“He isn’t happy,” I said. “Now ask me why.”
“Why?” he asked.
“I was only permitted time for the quorum. I was supposed to attend a transfer ceremony in Dawne for my mother’s title, Duchess. It was at her school. Instead, I decided to stay here when the Prince asked me to, and I informed the King via letter. He doesn’t think it’s a good idea. He’s said I’ve offended my aunt, who’s been the regent for years. He wants me to reschedule it, and he wants me to return because of the threats.”
“Threats?” Cyrus asked in new interest. “Oh. You mean the horses? Or the demonstration?”
“The horses,” I said. “What demonstration?”
“Nothing,” he said. “I must be mistaken.”
“Is there more to this nonsense than I know?” I asked. “More than brutally massacring the souls of horses in my honor? Is that what you’re suggesting?”
“I am not suggesting anything,” he said.
“Tell me!”
“It’s nothing,” he assured. “I’m sure if he were worried, the Prince would’ve mentioned it.”
