“Stay away from him,” Poppie warned before he turned back to the leader.
He even grinned to go along with the humor that Alana was bristling over. “The boy knows and eagerly awaits hair to grow on his face.”
“Does he?” the commander said, but he’d already lost interest.
The soldier he’d sent to search her baggage jumped down from the coach and reported, “Mostly fancy women’s clothes, sir. No weapons.”
Of course there were no weapons. Poppie carried his weapons on his person just as she did, and she’d never felt more like using one than she did right then. But the soldiers were obviously only looking for rifles, or they might have searched them, too, for smaller weapons.
She turned away before the brute caught her burning a hole through him with her eyes, but she heard him bark another order. “You. Move that coach out of the way to that wider ledge we just passed, and carefully. Push anyone over the cliff and you’ll go with them.” Then he addressed Poppie again. “Did you see the rebel camp on your way up here?”
“I saw no one anywhere near the pass, and it wasn’t snowing when we started our climb. If there is a camp nearby, it can’t be seen from the trail.”
“We still have to prove or dispute the rumor. Go about your journey. You’ll be out of the snow soon.”
That quickly they were dismissed, and they all got behind the coach to follow it down the mountain. Relief should have calmed Alana, but she was still highly indignant over being the brunt of some rude man’s joke she didn’t even understand. The long line of soldiers passed in single file now as they continued on their way. She couldn’t help noting that they were all tall, making her wonder if height was a requirement for the Lubinian army, or worse—if her homeland was populated by giants!
Chapter Eight
THEIR BRUSH WITH THE military was over, but the snow continued to fall. As soon as the last soldier disappeared in that white, swirling veil, Alana pulled Poppie aside and asked him, “Why did you address that lout as ‘my lord’?”
“For no reason other than flavor to support the role I was playing of a menial servant.”
“Was he bluffing, or are the Naumanns actually real people that he might know of?”
“They’re landowners,” Poppie replied. “The same wealthy family mine used to rent from, and the first noble name I could think of to use.”
“Ah,” she said, but what she really wanted to know was “Is the army here really that coarse and brutish?”
“Lubinia is too small to support a professional army, but the palace guard is extensive, and I don’t doubt there has been additional recruitment to deal with the rebels.”
“Those were palace guards!” she gasped. “Even worse! It’s like they’re from the last century, or even before that. Just how backward is our country?”
“There was no newspaper in the capital city when I left,” he admitted.
That said a lot. Too much. Was her father going to be a brute, too?
But Poppie added, “You can find coarseness in any military unit, Alana, anywhere. But most of those guards are probably recruited directly from the commoners. They are men of the earth, men who don’t easily accept change. Most of the people here treat education as a waste of precious time, but think about it. Even in England education isn’t compulsory, and the poor there view education the same way. But there is refinement in some of the noble houses here.”
“But not all?”
His answer was a brief shake of his head. But he’d given her something to think about. She’d been comparing those soldiers to Englishmen who had been raised as she’d been raised, in the privileged world of upper-crust London, where refinement and good manners abounded. She had to stop holding to that old disdain of her homeland that Poppie had fostered in her. He’d admitted he’d done it deliberately just so she wouldn’t tell anyone where they’d come from.
When the snow stopped as suddenly as it had arrived, a beautiful view was revealed. Green valleys, untouched by the mountain snow, were dotted with farms and villages. And in the distance Alana caught her first sight of the capital city, which shared the same name as this tiny mountain kingdom.
Poppie confirmed that when he put an arm around her shoulders and said with a pleased smile, “There’s the capital of your realm, Princess. We’re home.”
His home, Alana thought. It didn’t feel like hers and she was sure it never would.
They arrived in the city just before evening, too late in the day to go directly to the palace. Alana was relieved, even if it was only a brief delay. Now that meeting her father was nigh imminent, her apprehension was back in spades.
They got rooms at an inn on the edge of the city. Without telling him everything, Poppie explained to Henry that he would have to disassociate himself from Poppie when they went into the city. Henry seemed to understand the need for secrecy now, and that he might be followed when he delivered messages to Alana once she moved into the palace. Poppie even took him into the city to find a crowded place where they could meet clandestinely, without appearing to know each other. Henry was thrilled by the intrigue.
All of Alana’s trunks were brought inside the inn and would remain there until she had rooms in the palace. Because Poppie wanted her to be at her best in the morning, he made her go to bed early. Sleep? In her current agitation? Somehow she did.
But morning came too soon. Her hands were almost trembling as she dressed in a warm powder-blue velvet gown. Instead of a heavy coat, she picked a dark blue cloak lined with soft white fur and a matching cap. At least she could push the cloak back off her shoulders if she got too warm once she was in the palace. She even managed to pin her long black hair up into a semblance of a coiffure. It was nowhere as neat as Mary’s handiwork, but at least the cap made that less obvious.
“Alana?”
