A sneer marred Bertrand’s face. “You would risk the princess’s life to save a horse? Are you witless?”
Anger rose in Elowen, but before she could voice it, they were engulfed by the rest of their group. Theo’s horse pranced away from hers, the absence of the prince’s hand leaving her own cold. His guard, the man he’d called Paulson, was gripping the prince’s shoulder, searching him for injury as her own and Patrick’s guards surrounded Elowen.
They were both shepherded back toward the road that had brought them to the dam, although they had to go a long way around in order to avoid the flood. Elowen looked in vain for Theo—he seemed always to be blocked from her view by a myriad of overprotective riders. Sophia was among them, her face white and her eyes anxious as she stayed close to Elowen.
“I’m fine, Sophia,” Elowen assured her. Her eyes widened as she remembered something. “The town!” She twisted in her saddle, but she didn’t have a good view of the hamlet, which must have been hit hard by the flood.
“It was evacuated in time,” Sophia told her softly, rubbing her hands along her arms in an anxious gesture. “Simeon told me. The homes will have been destroyed, but no one died.”
“Simeon?” Elowen repeated, bewildered.
Sophia nodded. “He appeared just after the dam burst. I don’t know where he came from. He didn’t give me a straight answer.”
“Did you say Simeon?” Bertrand pulled up beside his sister, his brow still stormy from his argument. “He’s decided to reappear, has he?”
“He’s helping the displaced townsfolk,” Sophia told him shortly. “Someone told him that we’d come, so after the dam burst, he came to check that we were all right. He was…he was worried.” Her voice was unsteady by the end, but Bertrand gave no sign of noticing her distress.
“No doubt,” he said darkly. “Worried about the repercussions of his desertion, most likely. I’ll deal with him later.” He ran a hand through his hair, casting agitated eyes over the destruction that would have such serious repercussions for his family’s holdings.
Elowen turned away, not wanting to deal with Bertrand. The initial shock of her second near miss had worn off, and her mind was also full of all the awful implications of the dam’s failure. The region would be hit hard in a number of ways. The displaced residents of the hamlet in the dam’s direct path were only the beginning.
The immediate aftermath of the flood was chaos, but in spite of the seriousness of the situation, Elowen knew they couldn’t stay to help the recovery effort. She was unsurprised whenPatrick gave the order to his guards to prepare to return to Toledda.
“I feel bad to leave them in this state,” Elowen said.
He gave her a look that made her wince internally. “As do I. And if you weren’t present, Elowen, I would likely be able to stay and assist. But I need to see you safely back to the capital as soon as possible. I haven’t forgotten that your betrothal celebrations start in the morning, even if you have.”
“Believe me, I haven’t,” she said, her own voice a little crisp.
“If we’re returning, we should leave promptly.” Bertrand inserted himself into the conversation, as usual.
“You’re coming back with us?” Elowen demanded, momentarily forgetting in her surprise that she’d decided to ignore him. Her eyes passed from him to his father, who was deep in conversation with a small knot of men from the hamlet. “But this is part of your father’s lands. I thought for certain you would be needed here.”
“You would think so, but my father has insisted that Sophia and I return to the capital,” he said.
His voice was curt, in the way she usually heard him direct toward his sister. Seeming to remember to whom he was speaking, he took a breath. When he spoke again, it was with a return of his usual, unwelcome attempt at charm.
“Not even such dire circumstances as this would keep me from your betrothal celebrations, Princess.” His eyes flicked toward Theo, his expression disdainful. “Some of us are willing to give due priority to you, rather than to every man and beast that crosses our path.”
The prince, who had dismounted and was standing nearby in conversation with his guard, gave no sign of having heard him. But Elowen had already learned to recognize that it was not a reliable indication. Theo was very capable of keeping his reaction to rudeness inside.
Losing patience with the viscount, Elowen walked Ochre away from him. Maybe she should have more sympathy for him, given how closely he was connected with the crisis, but it was hard to find any. Her movements were jerky as she ran a hand over Ochre’s neck, but she stilled when Theo appeared at her knee.
“Bertrand is wrong,” she said abruptly, not waiting for him to speak. “I’m grateful to you for saving my horse as well as me.”
Theo gave a tight nod. “Horses don’t deserve to die for humans’ stupidity.”
She flushed. “You’re right. It was stupid of me to end up in the path of danger for the second time in—”
“No.” The word came out so harshly, Elowen instinctively recoiled. Theo seemed to see it, because he tried to soften his tone. “You misunderstand,” he said, still more gruff than gentle. “It’s not your stupidity I was referring to. The incident wasn’t your fault at all.”
She still couldn’t quite meet his eyes, fiddling with the horn of Ochre’s saddle. “That’s generous of you, after my shameful inability to control my own horse. I don’t understand what made her bolt like that, but I’m disappointed in myself.” She dared to sneak a look at him. “A feeling we all have to deal with, I suppose.”
Something sparked in his eyes at her words, and a frown creased his brow.
“Elowen, you said something before about princes and disappointment. I hope you didn’t misunderstand me to be saying I was disappointed with my current situation.”
“Disappointed with your current situation? That’s not very chivalrous, Your Highness.”
