Page 52 of Royal Captive
Calten stood with my covers in his hands, grinning like his birthday had come early. He wore a black coat and cloak with a purple insignia of a crown with a sword slicing it open. Black boots and gloves completed his dark attire.
“Wha?” I mumbled unintelligibly, unsure if I was being attacked or simply provoked.
“The day is wasting. I have errands to run and Shyllon insisted I take you with me.”
A heavy work dress hit me in the face and I sputtered, gathering the warm fabric in my hands.
“Uh … ok.”
Calten hovered with his hands on his hips, glancing around the room. “Oh, and be sure to only eat from this platter.”
He pointed out one on the right, filled with delicious-looking pastries. I hurriedly worked the leather ties on the dress, making sure everything had settled properly and was secure.
“Aha! Knew he’d likely have a pair. Heads up!”
I flinched but caught the pair of soft red stockings Calten threw at my head.
“Does … Alihandro frequently have women here that they leave random bits of their clothing about?” I asked, trying to keep my voice light but failing miserably.
“Princess, let’s get one thing clear here: I have better things to do than babysit you; much more important things. But I’m going to do what Shyllon asks and be gracious. So put the stockings on, follow me, and try to keep your mouth shut.”
Succinct, but honest. I should appreciate that, right?
I sat on the edge of the bed and tugged on the stockings, locating my boots and putting them over the top.
Calten disappeared into one of the large wooden wardrobes, emerging with a black cloak triumphantly. “Probably small, but you’re bigger than most, aren’t you?”
I ignored his quip and snatched the cloak, throwing it around my shoulders. It ended hilariously short above my knees, but it was warm, at least.
“Follow.”
I snagged a lemon pastry from the ‘safe’ tray he’d indicated. Calten’s nose wrinkled as I stayed on his heels through the door and down the hallway, his displeasure for today’s task obvious.
Two human servants opened the door for us and Calten gave them a small nod of acknowledgement. I eyed both of them, but neither would look at me as we made our outside.
The morning air was cold—much colder than I’d thought possible for how warm it was in the evening. My breath puffed out in a white cloud in front of me, reminding me of dawn back at my country manor. I hoped the horses were being cared for properly now that I was gone.
The air wouldn’t feel so biting if it weren’t for the horrible wind.
A smooth cobblestone road curled away and down the hill, different colored stones used to make a decorative pattern down the middle. Rolling hills and pastures surrounded us. The grass ranged from rich greens to a dark blue. Everything sparkled with a fresh layer of frost. Questions about temperature and the seasons burst on my tongue, but I kept them in check.
“Hmm. I was hoping Dally would be around—oh! There he is!” Calten waved energetically as a rickety wagon rolled up to the side of the manor, an older man gingerly stepping down and patting the even older horse fondly on the neck. I immediately liked him; anyone who was kind to his horse could be trusted, right?
“Going into the market?” Calten asked hopefully, raising his voice just a tinge too loud, in my opinion, but it was hard to hear over the roar of the wind.
The old man grunted, looking up wildly around him as if taken by surprise. His flat flattened out when he spied us.
“Oh, it’s you. I suppose you want a ride? Can’t get those pretty boots of yours dirty,” he grumbled.
I hung back as Calten eagerly approached, ignoring the man’s prickly attitude. “Dally, you know you like me. Quit fighting it.”
The old man harrumphed, but the ghost of a smirk turned the corner of his mouth. “Hop in. The girl, too.”
I held out my hand eagerly. “My name is—”
“Don’t need to know. Don’t care to know. Move.”
I frowned, my fingertips growing cold as my hand hung suspended in the empty air. More human servants spilled out of a side door to the manor, loaded down with wooden crates. I barely got out of the way before they bowled me over, quickly stacking the wagon until it was full to the brim. Dally slammed the wooden gate closed and latched it.
