He hoped that there wasn’t going to be another wedding. As much as his father complained about it, he would have complained even more if he’d been excluded. He would insist they all go. Last time, Pelun had suggested he remain behind, and his father had refused.
Well, Pel would manage another wedding if he had to. He would simply ignore Princess Terila, and Sovereign Gornexi and their family would ignore Pel and his family, and it would be awkward and awful.
“You there!” the man called as he came abreast of Pel. “Which way to the castle?”
Pel bristled at the imperious tone. It wasn’t a question, it was a demand, as though Pel existed only to serve as a signpost for this man’s conceited self.
“I would think a messenger in the High King’s army would know the way,” Pel snapped.
The man straightened, the blue eyes that Pel glimpsed through his helmet flashing fire. “What did you say?”
“Are you hard of hearing as well as deficient in a sense of direction?”
The guard huffed a breath. “Goddess, this is just what I needed today.”
Pel just raised an eyebrow.
The man glared at him and then urged his stallion into motion, taking, Pel noticed, the fork in the road that would get him to Baless and to the castle… eventually. The foothills made line of sight bad here.
Pel watched him go, sagged into his saddle, and reflected ruefully that it would probably have been wiser to have given him directions. There was no advantage to having a messenger from the High King upset from the moment of his arrival in the realm.
But Pel had let his temper get the better of him, and there was nothing for it now. He wasn’t about to chase after the man. Pel picked the road that wound around the hill and skipped the town, leading right to the castle.
In the stables, Pel unsaddled Extraordinary and then set about grooming her. Several stable hands offered help, but Pel wanted to do it himself. The repetitive motions helped smooth away the ire that still danced through his blood. He didn’t want to go to Alossa just to be ignored when he could already be ignored so effectively here. But he didn’t even know why the messenger was here, and he shouldn’t be borrowing trouble.
Instead, he tried to concentrate on the rhythmic movements of the brush. If he was too gentle or too hard, then Extraordinary would let him know, and he would apologize and refocus.
So Pel concentrated on his mare’s glossy brown coat and told her what a good horse she’d been and how grateful he was that she’d carried him around again all morning.
“You’ve earned an appleanda carrot,” Pel promised her.
Extraordinary turned and nudged him with her big head, like she thought she should be fed now.
“When we’re done,” Pel said with a laugh. “You know how this works.”
He was checking Extraordinary’s hooves for stones when a shadow loomed outside of the stall and an annoyed voice that Pel recognized said, “Really? You work at the castle, and you couldn’t have pointed me in the right direction?”
“Had youaskedfor directions, I might have,” Pel informed him without looking. “The assumption that I was there solely for your whim was excessive.”
Finally glancing up, he nearly bit his tongue, his stomach lurching ominously.
For an instant, he thought he was facing the High King, but then he realized that there was no way he’d have traveled alone. He was puzzled that the High Prince would do so, but it still seemed the altogether more likely scenario.
He offered a belated bow. “Your Highness.”
The Prince’s lips tipped up in a sneer. “You were saying about my whims?”
“You seem to have an expectation that they’ll always be gratified,” Pel responded, since he’d made his bed, and now he was going to have to lie in it.
“You’re very insolent,” the Prince told him.
“I apologize, Your Highness.”
Apparently, he sounded as apologetic as he felt, because the Prince’s lips tightened. “Is this the sort of staff that King Forex keeps?”
Pel nearly snorted. “You would need to address such a question to the King.”
“Perhaps I will,” the Prince said, staring at him like he was a bug.
