Page 59 of Royal Captive
“—heard the king said—”
Calten dabbed his lips with his napkin. “I am unsure if Prince Shyllon requires your presence tonight. Though—”
“—rebels are getting bolder. The head rebel even—”
“—go wandering around the manor. He’s made it clear you are not to be touched by anyone other than the princes, so it should be safe enough. Have you finished?”
“—tired of their bullshit. Court thinks they’re high and mighty. Do they not understand we outnumber them ten to one?”
“Princess? Eve?” Calten reached out and put a hand on mine, making it impossible to ignore.
I gave him a weak smile. “Sorry, what was that?”
He glanced into my bowl, only half-eaten. “Is it not to your liking? Are you feeling well? I just thought someone of your size—”
To shut him up from making any more comments about myformidable size,I shoveled down the rest of the pie, ignoring the burn down my throat but relishing the warmth emanating from my stomach. I wiped my mouth with the back of my hand, unconcerned about manners. “Mm. Delicious.”
His eyes narrowed. “Let us return, then. This evening’s plans are at the prince’s whims. We must prepare either way.”
I let him guide me away from the table, turning fully to face where the women had been gossiping behind me. They were gone.
We began picking our way through the throng and heading up toward the hill where the prince’s manor sat.
“Do you like your job?” I asked Calten when we finally got beyond the crowd, reaching the cobblestones just outside the market that began the incline up.
He gave me an odd look, his stride not slowing for an instant. “Do you normally ask such odd questions?”
My boots kept moving over the cobblestones, my eyes automatically tracking the uneven stones and avoiding them. Gregory had said the same to me years ago. Or had it only been months? The Royal Hunt and everything before it seemed like an entire lifetime ago. I wasn’t the same girl.
My shoulders straightened.
I wasn’t the same girl.
“I ask lots of irritating questions. Most prefer to give answers than perish under my harsh interrogations,” I fired back.
His nostrils flared, the ghost of a smirk just barely visible in the tilt of his lips. Unless I imagined it. “I see why the princes like you. You’re not what was expected.”
I danced around a pothole in the road. “And what, exactly, was expected?”
He snorted, glancing up at the manor looming above us. “No matter what happens, remember who you are.”
“And just who is that, exactly?” I asked, mostly because most days not even I was sure of the answer.
“Fire and blood, ash and bones,
Captive savior, rancid court.
Break the chains, burn the stones,
Free the queen, last resort.”
I blinked.
“That was … prophetic,” I managed lamely. I’d been about to say ‘lovely,’ but that would have been a lie.
“Do you believe in prophecies, Princess?” Calten asked, leaning forward across the table casually, as though discussing the weather.
And not a kingdom’s ruin and damnation.
