“Simeon.” Elowen looked around to see that the corridor was currently deserted. She slowed to a stop as Simeon bowed.
“Your Highness. Can I be of service?”
Elowen didn’t answer at once, her eyes searching his face. He looked tired, and older than he used to, she realized. He’d never been fully relaxed in her presence, but when she and Sophia took lessons from him, he’d been lighter, happier. He’d laughed when their attempts at magic manipulation led to strange results, and been warm in his praise of their progress. Now he was on edgeevery time she saw him, and there was a careful, almost wary edge to his respectful demeanor toward her.
“I wonder, Simeon, if I can be of service to you, actually,” she said at last, speaking with studied lightness. “Are you…are you in some kind of trouble?”
“Trouble, Your Highness?” he repeated blandly. “I hope not.”
Her brow creased as she studied his face. “Simeon, where were you yesterday?”
“I was—” His response had come quickly, but he cut himself off. “My duties kept me out of the capital much of the day.”
“Duties?” she repeated, raising an eyebrow. “What duties could have kept you when neither Bertrand nor Sophia knew where you were?”
His lips were pressed into a line. It was clear he wasn’t going to answer.
“I’m your friend, Simeon,” she said earnestly. “At least, I’d like to be. If something is troubling you, let me help you.”
“I have no troubles that you can help with, Your Highness,” he said firmly. “And it wouldn’t be appropriate for me to ask even if I did.”
“Simeon, that scarf you dropped…” She trailed off, at a loss for how to ask him her questions in a way that wouldn’t make him close off further.
“What of it, Your Highness?” Simeon asked, when she didn’t continue.
“It’s yours?”
“Of course.”
“Are you…are you sure? You’re not just being…agreeable?”
“I know you think I’m weak, Your Highness,” Simeon said, the line of his jaw setting harder. “And maybe I am, in some ways. But I have a mind of my own, and the things I do, I do for reasons of my own. I don’t feel the need to explain them to you. I know that I’m strong enough to fight for what matters.”
“I…I’m sure you are,” stammered Elowen, taken aback by the fire in his response. She studied his defiant face for a long moment before deciding to be bold. “Is this about Sophia, Simeon?”
A flicker crossed his face, but he mastered it, his jaw clenching briefly before he spoke.
“With respect, Your Highness, it wouldn’t be the actions of a friend to carry tales to her. Better she stay out of it.”
“Stay out of what, Simeon?” Elowen asked sharply. “I want to help you, if I can. I…” She faltered, choosing her words with care. “I know you have some reason to feel frustration, maybe even resentment. But please…” Daringly, she reached out a hand and gave his arm what she hoped was a reassuring squeeze. “Please don’t do anything drastic, not without at least letting me try to help you first. You’ve been a true friend to me with your training, and I owe you this much, Simeon.”
For a moment, Elowen saw longing enter his eyes, and she felt sure he was wrestling with a desire to unburden himself. Then his gaze moved past her shoulder, and he stepped quickly back. Giving her a respectful bow, he turned and walked away.
Elowen frowned after him for a moment before turning to see what had startled him. With a sinking heart, she saw Theo’s familiar figure striding past, his face turned away but his form even stiffer than usual. She had no idea why he’d been in the library, but that was clearly where he’d just emerged from. He wasn’t close enough to have heard their conversation, but he’d no doubt seen them. He’d been surprisingly supportive about her secret magic lessons, but that didn’t mean he would approve of a personal friendship between her and a servant. She wished that if he objected, he would stop and say so, instead of being silently disapproving and absent.
Disheartened, Elowen made her way back through the castle, looking for her parents. They were nowhere to be found, so shehad to content herself with informing Patrick of her plan to go to the duke’s town residence in search of Sophia. She and her friend were supposed to attend the afternoon’s events together, and Elowen didn’t feel like being alone with her thoughts until then.
Patrick approved her outing with a paternal air that irked her, but she didn’t waste energy on her brother’s heavy-handed ways. It was a short ride to the duke’s residence, made slightly longer by the slow pace made necessary by the quartet of guards Patrick had insisted on sending with her. When she arrived, she rode into the courtyard of the smart town manor at a trot, eager to dismount and get inside.
“No need to announce me,” she said in an imploring voice to the house maid whom she encountered just inside the door. “I’m just here to collect Lady Sophia, we’ll leave for the tournament fields at once.”
The girl gave her an indulgent smile, sympathetic to the cause of avoiding the formality that would inevitably attend a princess’s visit to the home of a duke and duchess. With a grateful smile, Elowen hurried toward the wing of the manor where the family’s private rooms were located. She knew the house well, and knew that Sophia would probably be in the parlor they used when not entertaining. If she was unlucky, Bertrand might be with her, but the duchess was on the country estate, helping with the aftermath of the dam failure, and the duke was very unlikely to be relaxing with his family at this time of the day.
She’d almost reached the parlor when this confidence was shattered by the sound of a raised voice. Elowen’s steps faltered, discomfort washing over her. She should have let the maid announce her. She’d never heard the duke so angry, and she knew he wouldn’t wish a member of the royal family to witness it.
“You will not argue with me, Bertrand, your behavior has been ridiculous and ill-mannered. Your open hostility to Prince Theodore is the subject of gossip in every circle of the castle household. You are bringing shame to me and your mother.”
Elowen flinched at the sharp words, even as she cheered internally to know that someone was doing what she couldn’t, and reprimanding Bertrand for the trouble he was causing in her life.
