Page 41 of Princess of Air

“I’m almost certain you used to be fun.” Nina sets down her wineglass.

“Terribly sorry to disappoint you.” I stand and further the point of me not being fun anymore. “I’m going to bed. Yes, I know it’s early. No, I don’t care. Good night.”

As I clear the doorway, a thud sounds, followed by Nina’s screech. “You ass!”

“It was a debt owed which your sister prevented before,” Tomas says.

Even as I’m laughing about it, I imagine Jamys really does think us a ridiculous bunch. I get up to my rooms, but a voice stops me before I enter.

“Ara,” Jamys says as he rounds the corner, “you got up here very quickly.”

I shrug. “Flying will do that.”

“Yes, well, I hope you sleep better tonight.”

“Thank you.” No doubt I will.

“I hope your sleep wasn’t disturbed by… It wasn’t exactly proper for us to spend the evening alone together the way we did.”

The idea of him thinking what we did—a private meal in my rooms—was improper is mortifying when I know the truth of it. “Not at all. Last night was wonderful.” My stomach turns to lead at the realization that the words are accurate for two very different segments of the night.

“Oh, good. I don’t want to rush you into anything or put any pressure on you. However you’d like our betrothal to be is fine for me.”

“You haven’t, but thank you. I meant it, you know… when I told the boy you were nicer than I am.”

He smiles, takes my hand, and lays a soft kiss on my knuckles. “Good night, Ara.”

“Good night, Jamys.”

Inside, I lean my head back against the door. I never want to lie to him again.

Chapter twenty-one

Green sprouts dot the soil in neat rows across the field. Several people are working in it, but Breda, the mother of the missing boy, is off to the side with us. Even without full finery, our group of royals is discordant with the scenery. My siblings, Jamys, and I managed to get out on our own today. It’s only unusual for Jamys, but he’s taking our peculiarities in stride.

“I’m sorry we couldn’t be in town yesterday,” Breda says. “We had only recently received the new fertilizer and had to treat the fields right away as we’re already into spring.”

“No apologies necessary,” Ry says. “We didn’t come to disrupt your lives or work.”

“That’s very kind of you, Your Grace.”

“I spoke with Orson briefly upon our arrival,” I say.

His mother goes wide-eyed. “He didn’t mention meeting the princess.”

“He wouldn’t have. I didn’t announce my name. Far more important than etiquette is your younger son’s disappearance.”

She blinks away a glassiness from her eyes. “You’re very kind to care.”

“It’s the barest minimum, I think. We should be able to get answers for you.” I’d like to say we will get her son back, but having so little information, it doesn’t seem like a hope I can offer. “We will continue trying.”

“Thank you.” Her voice is no more than a whisper. “It’s difficult, but even in the shadow of George’s absence, work must go on.” She gestures to the field.

“What is this new fertilizer you’re using?” Rylan looks out over the land, and a wave of growth ripples across it. “I’d help further, but don’t want to spoil the timing of the crops with the weather.”

“This head start is incredible, Your Grace. A man came peddling this treatment, said it has been working well up in Windamere and gave us some to try free of charge. Expects it to increase our yield enough that we’ll buy it next season.”

“I hope it works out.”

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