Page 21 of A Wayward Movement

“Is that…an anzu?” Alina demanded, intrigued.

“Yes, this is Zuzu. I finally named her last night.”

A number of questions sought to escape Alina, but she reminded herself this wasn’t her Xavier, and she needed to take care not to be impertinent.

“She’s very…small,” she said instead.

“She’ll grow.” Xavier was endearingly defensive of his pet. “She’s only a baby. They grow unnaturally fast, actually. Any other creature would be much smaller and more helpless at this age. She imprinted on me by accident, so I’m stuck with her now. Until she’s fully grown, that is. Which shouldn’t be too long, I’m told.”

For a moment Alina just stared, struggling to match the somewhat ridiculous image before her with either the teenage Xavier she’d known or the prince of rumor. Then something occurred to her, and she laughed.

“She’s your companion. The lady.”

Xavier stilled, his brow creasing as he studied her face.

Realizing her misstep, Alina quickly lowered her eyes, hoping he wouldn’t put the pieces together. The motion was a mistake—she hadn’t tied her hair back, and its dark waves fell in front of her face, just as she’d made them do the night before.

Prince Xavier sucked in a sharp breath, the sound filling Alina with apprehension.

“You’re the girl from the tavern last night.” He didn’t say it as a question. “The one who avoided looking at anyone all evening, then got harassed by that gutter trash.”

Alina blinked, taken aback by the strength of the words contrasted against his calm voice.

“I…yes,” she said lamely. “It was kind of you to…intervene.”

“No, it wasn’t,” he contradicted. “It was basic courtesy at best, but forget about that. What are you doing here, Alina? Why is the daughter of one of Siqual’s wealthiest merchants working in a tavern in the middle of nowhere?”

Alina forced herself to look up into his eyes, although the expression there made it hard to keep her thoughts steady. Prince Xavier looked upset, his whole form tight with a restless energy that hadn’t been there the night before. His manner was a comical contrast with the ungainly creature wobbling on his shoulder, and the humor of it helped Alina gather herself.

“My father has been dead for eight years, Your Highness,” she said calmly. “My mother as well. And even before that, we were far from wealthy. My circumstances have changed significantly since the time you knew me.”

“But how is this?” he demanded, his voice softer but the same intensity in his eyes. “What happened?”

“A carriage accident,” Alina told him.

“And you have no other family?” he pressed.

She shrugged. “I lived with my aunt and her family until I reached majority. They’re not far, in the city just inside the forest. But I’m grown now, and able to provide for myself.”

“You consider it providing for yourself to work as a tavern wench?”

Alina winced, unable to help it. She saw something flicker across Xavier’s face, but he didn’t take back his words. Defensiveness rose for a moment inside her, and she was tempted to make a quip about how he hadn’t seemed to mind tavern wenches the night before.

But she held the words back, knowing they weren’t fair. She was the one who’d turned him down, and it had been so long ago. Even if it had gone the other way, he was the crown prince. He owed her nothing. She had no reason to be annoyed with him—it wasn’t by design that he’d inserted himself back into her life, bringing complicated and painful memories with him. She’d been ridiculous and dramatic since the moment she heard him mentioned, and it wasn’t like her.

She would choose to be positive about the whole strange circumstance. After all, it was interesting to see in person how the prince was now, and the anzu situation was certainly fascinating. There was no cause to mope.

“I’m not a tavern wench,” she said calmly. “I work shifts at the tavern sometimes, but it’s only one of several roles. And it’s actually a perfectly respectable source of income. In spite of reputation, we’re not all loose and unprincipled. I’m sure most, like myself, just want an honest job.”

“Oh, I’m very familiar with the tenuous relationship between reputation and truth,” Xavier informed her. “But you can’t tell me the treatment such workers endure is just rumor, because I witnessed it myself last night.”

Alina shrugged. What was there to say?

The prince studied her face for a moment, and when he spoke, his voice was brusque.

“Why did you make such a point of hiding your face from me last night?”

Alina sighed. “I suppose I was being prideful, Your Highness. I didn’t know if you’d remember me from when we were younger, but in case you did, I didn’t like you to see me as a tavern wench, as you put it. But that was silly, of course. I was just caught off guard.”