“Princess Tavia,” he said. He reached to pluck a nearby rose, but as soon as his fingers touched the thick, woody stem, he realized they weren’t the most pluck-able flowers. He tugged a few times, while trying to keep his gaze locked with that of his lady. It was hard to ignore the maiden at her side, who was clearly trying and failing to conceal a laugh. Tyrell realized that tugging at that rose looked ridiculous, so releasing it, he stoopeddown and plucked a white clover flower from the grass at his feet.
A laugh escaped the handmaid, before she snapped her mouth closed and forced her lips into a tight seal.
When he offered the token to Tavia, she took it between two fingers almost as delicate as the stem itself.
“I was wondering if you . . .” Tyrell started. He put all of his focus onto Tavia’s lovely face, trying not to see her maiden or hear the snickers of his friends. “Would . . . maybe like to go riding with me later today?”
“Oh . . .” the princess drew her lips into a tiny scarlet circle. “You are so kind my lord, but . . .” she shrugged. “I am meeting someone else today.”
Tyrell’s shoulders sank.
“Oh, alright,” he nodded. “Perhaps some other time.”
“Perhaps,” the princess smiled politely. They both stared at each other for an eternally awkward moment, each wondering how to make a hasty escape.
Finally, the princess blurted out, “Well, good bye then!” And resumed her journey toward the castle.
The handmaid (really, her name wasn’t that difficult, why couldn’t he remember it?) hung back for a moment. Tyrell guessed it was so she could bask a moment longer in his humiliation. She was not grinning now though, she was looking back and forth between himself and the retreating princess with one eyebrow raised and thoughtfully pursed lips.
“Would you like another chance, my lord?” she whispered.
Tyrell, still paralysed, couldn’t make any reply aside from slightly raising an eyebrow.
“Meet me by the big oak behind the scullery after dinner.”
Tyrell blinked.
She must have taken this for assent, because she gave him a quick nod and then scurried after her mistress, leaving him alone to endure the mockery of his companions.
3. The Bloody Kraken
Lia twirled the stem of the little white clover flower between her thumb and forefinger. At some point during their escape, the princess had handed it to her expecting her to toss it away. Yet, with a thousand thoughts fluttering through her mind, Lia somehow forgot to do so.
“May I speak plainly, princess?” Lia asked, her gaze resting on the twirling white bloom.
Now it was Tavia’s turn to roll her eyes, an act princesses could do as often as they pleased. “Why? I already know exactly what you are going to say.”
“Alright,” Lia growled. “What am I going to say?”
“That Lord Tyrell is a good and worthy man and that I should really give him a chance.”
“So, why don’t you?” Lia huffed. That was precisely what she had wanted to say, but she did not want to tell the princess that. “What’s wrong with him?”
“Nothing iswrongwith him . . .” Tavia shrugged. “He’s just not the sort of man I fancy.”
This was an accurate statement, as Tavia only fancied men whohadthings wrong with them—case in point being Captain Julian.
“The captain . . .” Tavia started. “Well . . . it's there in the title, isn’t it? He’s a captain! He’s seen things, and done things Tyrell couldn’t dream of.”
“Like what?” Lia asked.
“Taken his crew into battle,” Tavia explained.
“When? I don’t remember hearing anything about a naval war recently,” Lia stated flatly.
Tavia furrowed her brow and twisted her lips. “He’s made a name for himself battlingsea monsters. My father told me all about it. You know, I’m willing to bet that’s why his fiancees left him . . . they could not bear the idea of losing him to the jaws of a beast!” She stared off into the distance, looking particularly wistful.
“That can’t be the reason,” Lia objected. “Not for all seven of them.”
