“That would be the stone dust from the tower collapse.” Princess Elowen sounded startled.
“The northern gate?” The duke’s tone was sharp. “He returned home without seeking leave?”
Lord Bertrand’s demeanor was no longer languid, the frown across his brow identical to his father’s. “That goes beyond the line,” he agreed. “Especially after he’s just received leave to visit his family up in their forest village.”
Theo remained silent, taking note of the varying expressions on the faces around him. There was more to this situation than met the eye, but he didn’t yet have the understanding to decipher it.
The conversation petered out as the servants cleared an enormous platter of pheasant from in front of him and replaced it with an array of fruit and sweet tarts, and a stone pitcher of hot, sweet tea.
“Prince Theodore.” The queen drew his attention, her smile warm as she watched him select a sugar-dusted pastry. “As you know, the betrothal celebrations don’t begin until the day after tomorrow. Since we have the pleasure of your company earlier than expected, I hope you’ll take the time to enjoy Toledda. Perhaps Elowen can take you to the floating gardens tomorrow.”
“I would be glad to,” the princess said, smiling tentatively at him. “They’re beautiful—a small marsh was discovered during construction of the city, and instead of filling it in, someone had the happy thought of enhancing it and turning it into a beautiful, water-based garden. We have all kinds of unusual flowers, even floating lilies imported from Pulau.”
She became more animated as she spoke, her smile infectious by the time she mentioned the island kingdom to the west of Torrens.
Theo returned it. “I look forward to learning more of these gardens tomorrow.”
He thought he caught a small movement from Lord Bertrand, but when he glanced over, the nobleman remained silent, his posture relaxed.
Lady Sophia, however, cleared her throat. “The gardens are so beautiful, aren’t they? I haven’t been in an age. I wonder if…” Her voice trailed off, its tone uncomfortable, and Princess Elowen came to her rescue.
“We would be delighted for you to join us, of course, Sophia.”
Theo inclined his head, trying to hide his disappointment. He’d hoped for the chance for private speech with Princess Elowen, but that was unlikely with her friend in tow.
“I wouldn’t wish to intrude,” Lady Sophia said hesitantly.
“You’re never an intrusion,” Princess Elowen assured her.
“Perhaps we could make a group expedition,” Lady Sophia said. She glanced at Prince Patrick. “Your Highness, do you intend to join the outing?”
“Certainly, if Elowen wishes to host a gathering, I’ll be glad to join,” the prince said politely, his true feelings hard for even Theo to read under all that diplomacy.
“Sounds like a fun morning.” Lord Bertrand’s cheerful interjection was no less irksome for being predictable. “I look forward to it.”
“Excellent.” Queen Lisbeth, at least, seemed pleased. “The arrangements will be made.” She lifted the delicate porcelain cup into which her tea had been poured, then set it down without drinking any. The gesture was subtle, but a servant behind her immediately shifted. Inconspicuously, the woman pulled out a small wooden ball attached to a string, that she lowered and lifted in rapid succession by some means Theo couldn’t identify.
Theo’s senses—untrained and not particularly sharpened—picked up the faint stirring of Dust. After a moment, steam rose once more from the cup of tea, and the queen raised it to her lips in a graceful movement.
Theo returned his gaze to his food, ashamed of the tiny pang of jealousy that went through him. Absurd—irresponsible, even—for a prince to be envious of a serving woman. It was fascinating, though, to see this evidence that magic was used more freely in Torrenese daily life than he was used to.
When the king rose soon after, the rest of them did as well.
“I apologize, Prince Theodore,” King Ronan said amicably. “But I have matters requiring my attention.” His sweeping gesture encompassed the whole table. “Please feel free to continue to enjoy yourselves.”
He directed a nod to Prince Patrick, who fell into step with his father as they crossed the room, the king’s steward materializing when they reached the doorway.
Conversation bubbled up again, but it was no more than ten minutes before the queen also stood. She bid the company good evening, sweeping her daughter from the room with her, and thus removing any interest Theo had in lingering. He could tell at a glance that Lord Bertrand had every intention of continuing to needle him, so he excused himself and left the dining hall as well. It was early to retire, but he was weary enough from his journey that he would have no difficulty falling asleep.
His last thought as he drifted was of the princess, her eyes straying back to him for the briefest of moments as her mother ushered her from the dining hall.
Chapter
Three
Elowen was the first to arrive for the projected outing to the floating gardens. The appointed courtyard was empty when she came to a stop by the central fountain, a servant hurrying on to alert the stables that she was ready for her horse.
Elowen drew her riding gloves between her hands in a rhythmic motion, her eyes unseeing as they stared at the tinkling water of the fountain. She hadn’t slept well, and her thoughts were distracted. But her awareness still latched on to the water’s steady flow, and she felt the stirring in her mind that told her she’d identified the magic being created by the water’s movement.
