Page 32 of Princess of Air

Richard gasps and gapes at me. “You’re the Princess of Air!”

“Shhh. I don’t want anyone hearing.” I let the toys back down onto the table.

“Why not?”

“People tend to fuss over princesses, and I don’t need a fuss.”

He taps his nose. “If I marry you, would I be a prince?”

That is the most forthright any potential suitor has ever been about his intentions, possibly ever. Not that he’s the first to be motivated by that. “You would. Sadly, I’m going to marry someone else. But my sister is not yet betrothed, so I’ll recommend you to her.”

“Is she as nice as you?”

I squeeze my lips together, trying not to grin. “Not quite.”

He frowns and considers for a moment. “Who are you going to marry?”

“A prince.”

A pensive nod. “That makes sense.”

“It does make very good sense.” His honesty seems to have pulled the same from me. Though the logic behind my betrothal has stayed at the forefront of my mind—lest I forget why it must be—the sensibility of it seems to have increased as I consider my compatibility with Jamys. Still, I’m not completely ready to accept being sensible.

“Is he nice like you?” Richard asks.

“He’s even nicer than I am.”

Before the boy can ask more questions the door swings open, and a familiar form enters, scans the room, and locks eyes on me.

“Is that the—” Richard begins. “No, that’s Lord Tomas.”

I remove our sheet of privacy in time to hear the pounding of Tomas’ footsteps. “Well, it certainly isn’t the very nice prince I’m marrying.” I smile at Tomas as he approaches with an annoyed scowl on his face. “Good morning.”

“Bell, what do you think you’re doing?”

“Having breakfast. I’d invite you to join me, but Richard and I were having a private conversation.”

Tomas puffs out a breath and musses Richard’s hair. “Go back to your mum.”

He looks at me. “Do I have to?”

“Yes!” Tomas says.

“She’s the Princess. I’ll listen to her over you.”

Tomas’ glower must be concealing a rainbow of colorful language not appropriate for children.

“You’re very clever, Richard,” I say. “I certainly outrank Lord Tomas, but I do think it’s time you went back to your mother.”

“All right,” he grumbles. He starts to walk away then gasps and turns back to bow.

“It was a pleasure to meet you, sir,” I say with a dip of my chin.

He flashes a bright smile before disappearing into the kitchen. I wonder how long my identity will be our secret.

Tomas watches him leave and turns to glare at me. “I don’t even know what to say to you.”

“Then I don’t know why you’re here.” I lean back into my chair with all the petulance of a teenager.

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