“May I feed her too, milady?” he asked. A gaggle of children surrounded him, gushing at Cozbi’s liveliness and silky mane.
“Of course,” I said as graciously as I could. This was good. Princesses interacted with children all the time, didn’t they?
Cozbi, delighted by the attention, ate the second offering with enthusiasm.
The boy bowed low and melted back into the crowd with a giggle.
I steered Cozbi forward and returned to my place beside Crown Prince Bennett, who gave me a brief glance before looking away.
Lord Frederick gave a low whistle. “You certainly have a way with animals, milady. I hardly realized what a beauty that mare is.”
Cozbi practically preened at the praise.
“She only needed some encouragement,” I said, smoothing her mane.
“The committee did say witches wouldn’t respond well to our usual pomp and circumstance,” Ulysses said with a sigh. “Good thinking, milady.”
The prancing was far from my intention, but it seemed to have worked out in my favor. Crown Prince Bennett’s expression, however, remained neutral. I colored, hoping he didn’t think I was putting on an act for his sake. A part of me knew that was the case, but I couldn’t dwell on it. Shame had no part in my duty.
That’s enough for today,I thought to Cozbi.You certainly showed that gelding who the better horse is.
The mare behaved normally for the rest of the way—which was all I wanted in the first place—and the procession proceeded onward.
When the scenery reverted once again to dreary hills, Lord Frederick asked if I wanted to return to the carriage. I gladly agreed.
“It will be some time until we reach Coriva,” he said as he helped me dismount. He threw a glance at the crown prince. “Perhaps you would like to rest in the carriage as well, Your Highness?”
“No need,” Crown Prince Bennett said.
Lord Frederick sighed a sigh only I could hear. “As you wish, Your Highness.”
***
THE SUN HAD SET WHENwe arrived at Lord Frederick’s residence. Huntington Abbey was a silhouette against the dreary gray sky, speckled with elegant spires and golden window panes. We stopped before a spacious courtyard encased by a ring of second-floor balconies. In the middle, a large marble fountain in the shape of a bear reared on two powerful hind legs.
Lord Frederick descended his mount. “Welcome to my humble abode,” he said cheerfully, “and yours for the next few weeks. Do make yourself at home, Your Highness, Lady Narcissa.”
I held Misty closer as an icy gust of wind blew against my back. Ulysses said that part of the tour was to keep friendly relations with powerful families in Olderea—the Huntingtons included. If that was the case, I doubted I could make myself at home.
Inside, the halls were lively with bustling servants. White marble tiles shone like mirrors beneath my feet, and plenty of windows spanned floor to ceiling, so unlike Greenwood Abbey’s somber interiors. I hoped Father would consider remodeling in the future.
The second floor was luxuriously carpeted and equally as grand. Lord Frederick looked over his shoulder as we followed him through a set of double doors. “I’m afraid Lady Huntington and Isabelle have already retired for the evening,” he said apologetically. “Introductions will have to be made tomorrow. Meanwhile, here is where you will be staying.”
We stood in a cozy, comfortably furnished common area swathed in rich blue velvet.
“Your quarters, Your Highness,” Lord Frederick said, pointing to a door on the left. “And yours, milady.” He pointed to one on the right.
Crown Prince Bennett twisted the ring on his finger. “Are there no separate suites?”
Lord Frederick shrugged. “I’m afraid not. Unless Your Highness wishes to switch with one of the guards?”
“If you’re worried about propriety, Your Highness, we share a common room, not a bedchamber,” I said, irritable from the journey and the cold. All I wanted was to pass out unconscious.
What a prude that prince is, Misty meowed.
Crown Prince Bennett frowned. “Very well. Good night, Lord Frederick. Lady Narcissa.” With a stiff nod, he strode off to his side.
Lord Frederick shook his head. “I’ll leave you to your rest, milady.”
