‘Sorry, Yann,’ he said, grinning like he knew he’d already won.‘It looks like you just can’t compete with the promise of being a princess.’
Somehow, amidst everything that had happened, it had never occurred to me that marrying Raleigh would make me Princess of Rostenburg.Raleigh had never felt like our ruler.An ever-present terror?Yes.But he never sent aid in the famine, never implemented a whiff of policy that might make our lives better.All he’d ever done as reigning prince was build the dam.
‘Don’t,’ Yann warned him, but there was little fight in his voice.
Sovereign began to wander off.I snatched her reins back into one fist and stayed her, my back to the two men.I remained there a moment, calming myself.Why had I said that?One tiny slip-up in a moment of rage and suddenly it felt like I’d carved an untraversable rift between us.
I barely trusted myself to open my mouth again; every word I said was chipping away at the foundations that held us.How much more damage could I do in one day?
‘You don’t have to come with me to see Father,’ I said without turning around.
‘Clara …’
I hoisted myself into the saddle and peered down at the two men.‘I’ll see you at the end of the year,’ I said to the love of my life, then urged Sovereign into a trot without allowing him a chance to reply.
I regretted it almost immediately.After two months of longing to speak to Yann, was I really abandoning him so soon?He was still my fiancé.One horrible conversation wasn’t going to change that.I sighed.It was no way to leave things.I’d have to go back to the shop and apologise once I’d seen Father.
Or maybe this was better?In all likelihood I would be dead in six months’ time.Better for him to hate me now and lose a stranger than cling to a rapidly fraying thread of hope and lose someone he loved.For me too.It would be easier if I had no one left to say goodbye to.
I was glad Sovereign knew the way home.The houses around me had blurred into one.
It wasn’t long before we reached her old stables.As we approached the doors she pulled back, reluctant to go inside.I couldn’t blame her.Her memories of these stables were of slowly starving to death.I wasn’t the only one who wanted to go back to the castle.
‘It’s not for long,’ I reassured her.‘I’ll be back soon.’
She nickered as if to say she understood, although she could have just as easily been asking for me to bring back the nice man who fed her.
I shook that thought away.He was notnice.
Father was already outside by the time I carved back around to the front of the house.His hug nearly knocked the wind out of me.To my relief he hadn’t suffered any injuries after my escape attempt.He looked gaunt and there were traces of grey in his side-whiskersI couldn’t remember seeing before, but his bones were all unbroken.His smile was unchanged.
‘I thought I’d lost you,’ he said as we pulled apart.
‘I’m sorry I couldn’t come sooner,’ I said.
‘Well, it hardly matters now.Come, come inside.’
I followed him in, marvelling at the strange yet familiar scent of returning home after a long time away.He led me into the morning room where we had always received guests.With a pang I realised that was what I was now.
‘You didn’t make the journey alone, did you?’he asked.He never used to worry about that sort of thing.‘You don’t have a chaperone?’
‘I’ve never needed a chaperone before.Why would I now?’The answer was obvious the moment the question passed my lips.Clara Wagner, the mayor’s daughter, didn’t need a chaperone to tousle with her long-time sweetheart in the woods.Princess Clara Linford von Rostenburg would need one to visit the unwed baker.Especially the one who had notoriously ruined her prospects.‘My maidservant was unavailable.’
‘Of course,’ Father said.‘I can’t imagine how much work goes into maintaining a castle like that.What’s her name again?Magda?No, don’t tell me.Moira?’
I jolted.‘How do you know Moira?’
Father’s lips tightened.‘You never wrote,’ he said instead.‘That’s not like you.’
Was he avoiding the question?‘I tried,’ I said.I couldn’t use the same lie with him as I had with Yann.Rare as it was, I’d glimpsed the Rostenburg crest on letters he’d received in the past.As Raleigh’s representative in Orlfen, Father knew better than anyone that it was possible to send letters from the castle.‘They must not have reached you.’
‘I feared that was the case,’ Father said.‘So I sent my own courier to take letters there directly.He told me he handed them to a servant named Moira.Did she not give them to you?’
He felt so very far away.‘No,’ I said.‘She didn’t.’
Father nodded.‘Does the prince know you’re here?’
I stared at my feet.
