A Dove's Tale

Chapter 43

I needed the entire hour of my walk home to unwind. And I was halfway into that walk before I realized I’d forgotten Midnight Cinderella again. I sighed for what felt like the hundredth time and lifted my face up to the brilliant blue sky. It was such a nice day, especially after the two-day-long rainstorm. The perfect day for a picnic. But I would settle for an empty bucket when I got home. I dropped my gaze again to the ground, watching the cobblestone give way to packed dirt beneath my feet. If nothing else, it was a relief to not have to worry about the palace anymore. Prince Chevalier would handle that, leaving me free to focus all my attention on Mother.

He really was a genius.

I knew he was smart, and I believed Prince Clavis when he said Prince Chevalier was a genius, but I didn’t really know what that meant until I saw it for myself. It was no wonder Prince Clavis felt inferior. That display of intuition and logic was impressive and intimidating, and that was just the tip of the iceberg, a glimpse into the inner workings of Prince Chevalier’s mind. He was always observing, always calculating, always deducing and inferring.

That had to be exhausting.

“Hey, Ivetta.”

I looked up to see Jason standing in the road outside his house, his hands stuffed into his pockets as he kicked at the dirt. He was taller than me now, thanks to a recent growth spurt, but he was skinny as a rail, even with his voracious appetite. Mrs. Stotts said that’s what her husband was like as a teenager. If Jason developed like his father, he might end up as muscular as Prince Luke.

“Hello, Jason. I never got to thank you for the blanket. It’s very pretty.”

He shrugged dismissively, but his dark chocolate eyes flicked briefly to mine before dropping back to the ground, and the tips of his ears turned pink. I suppressed a smile. He’d had a crush on me since I started babysitting for him and his siblings when he was eight and I was thirteen. His innocent, childish declarations of love were long gone now, and I wasn’t his only crush anymore. I just happened to be the one who lived next door to him.

“I like your haircut,” I added, noting his short and tidy brown locks, just waves instead of unruly ringlets.

“You do?” he asked, looking up at me.

“It makes you look older,” I replied.

His eyes darted away again as the pink spread to his cheeks, but his shoulders straightened proudly. I managed to hide my smile until I was safely inside my house. The giggling spilled out as soon as I shut the door and met Mother’s bright green eyes. She was sitting up at the table, the window open and filling the house with fresh spring air, and the bucket was empty. My heart was suddenly light as a feather.

“What are you giggling about?” she asked.

I shook my head and gave her a hug. “You’re feeling better today.”

“Well, I think I’m due for a good day, don’t you?”

“I sure do.” I pulled back and bit my lip, looking from her to the open window. “How would you feel about a picnic dinner? Since I have to bring the laundry in, anyway.”

“I think that would be a wonderful idea. And Maria brought dinner over earlier, so you don’t even have to cook, unless you feel like heating it up.”

“Ooh, what did I do to deserve this?” I giggled, helping her to her feet.

“What didn’t you do, Ivetta?”

“Nothing you didn’t do. Oh, maybe I should get a blanket laid out for you first,” I said thoughtfully, leading her out of our house with a supportive arm around her waist. The grassy hillside behind our house was perfect for a picnic, the slope gentle enough for Mother to traverse easily here at the top of it, the winding river at the bottom of the hill sparkling in the late afternoon sunlight.

“I’d rather enjoy the feel and smell of spring grass,” Mother replied.

While she still could.

That little addition remained unsaid, but weighed heavily in the air.

“And maybe we can do some stargazing, too,” I said cheerily, unwilling to let that thought take hold. “There isn’t a cloud in the sky. I can bring the new blanket out if you get too cold.”

“That would be nice,” she agreed.

I helped her down to the grass and then straightened up, turning my attention to the laundry on the clotheslines we shared with the Stotts. “Did you have a good chat with Mrs. Stotts?”

We talked back and forth while I took down and folded the laundry, although her questions and responses gradually became shorter, and I automatically talked more to fill in the gaps. She was already getting tired. Stargazing wouldn’t happen. I knelt down beside her after I finished folding the laundry and took her hand.

“Don’t look so worried, Ivetta,” she chided, smiling up at me.

“Your hands are like ice. Here.” I unfolded the old blanket and tucked it around her. “I’ll be right back with dinner. Is it in the pantry?”

“On the stove,” she replied. “Don’t bother heating it up.”

“I wasn’t planning on it.”

The lightness in my chest was gone with the brightness in her eyes. Fatigue and pain always caught up with her, eventually. I dropped the laundry on the table and turned to the meatloaf on the stove, dishing it onto a single plate for Mother and me to share. Jason was hovering outside the door when I stepped outside.

“Ivetta?”

“What is it, Jason?” I asked, peeking around the house to check on Mother. She was lying down now.

“Mom said to tell you she’s going grocery shopping tomorrow, if you need anything.”

I looked up at him, and his eyes immediately darted away.

“Um, yeah, I’ll put together a list, if you want to come by later for it. Or I can drop it off in the morning before I go.”

He shrugged. “Whatever.”

“Thanks, Jason. And thank your mother for me, too. I always love her meatloaf.”

“Yeah.”

Mother sat up with some difficulty when I came to her side. She smiled knowingly, a spark of mischief lighting in her dull eyes.

“Poor Jason. He’s really sweet on you, you know.”

“Today,” I replied. “It comes and goes. Yesterday morning, he was too busy fighting with his mother to be shy and bashful with me. And don’t think it’s just me. He’s like that with every pretty girl lately.”

“Boys will be boys.”

We ate in silence for a while, and then she said, “He’s too young for you, anyway.”

I nodded. “He’s only five years younger than me, but it seems like a lot more sometimes.”

“That’s because you grew up too fast. Maturity counts more than years. There aren’t many eighteen-year-old boys who would be a good match for you.”

I shrugged. The point was moot, because my background made me an unacceptable match for anybody. Things would be different if I had a father. In so many ways.

“How old are the princes?”

I sighed. “Mother…”

“It’s a simple question,” she defended herself, trying to hide her smile.

“Twenties to thirties, I think. I know Prince Leon is twenty-eight, but I don’t know the rest.”

“He’s the…fourth prince?”

“Yes. Prince Jin is the first prince, and then the order is Prince Chevalier, Prince Clavis, Prince Leon, Prince Yves, Prince Licht, Prince Nokto, and Prince Luke. Prince Luke might not even be twenty, actually. He’s still pretty immature.”

“And which prince is that?” she asked, pointing across the river. I followed her finger to a rider on a brown horse. His shaggy silver hair and neat gray and blue attire made him easy to identify.

“Prince Licht, the sixth prince,” I said, my cheeks immediately flushing.

“Ivetta,” Mother said, a tease in her voice.

“He overheard me telling Theresa something really embarrassing today, and no, I will not tell you. I’ll never repeat those words ever again,” I said firmly. “We should go back inside.”

“Are you afraid he’ll come over here?”

“No,” I squeaked, my voice suddenly jumping higher as I scrambled to my feet.

“Ivetta,” she laughed.

“The sun’s about to set, and it’s getting colder,” I said, bringing my voice down to its normal octave as I squatted down beside her and studied her face. “You’re getting pale, Mother.”

She sighed. “Fine. Let’s go inside.”

I removed the blanket from her lap to drape it around her shoulders, and then I looped my arm around her waist to lift her up. She had enough energy to tease me, but that was about it. I would have insisted on her going inside even without Prince Licht riding into view.

What was he doing here?

Probably nothing. He was probably just out for a ride and happened to be passing by.

And I was probably fussing over Mother and delaying going back outside for our dishes because I was worried about her. There was no other reason.

Mother’s eyes were still laughing.

“He doesn’t even like me, so don’t get any ideas,” I told her.

“A prince comes all the way out here to see you, and you tell me not to get any ideas?”

“He hates me! He said so himself!”

“Then why is he here?”

I groaned in exasperation. “Mother-”

Someone knocked at the door. My heart did a somersault and face planted into the ground.

“Hey, Ivetta, got that list yet?”

Jason. Bless him.

“No, not yet, sorry,” I called back, searching frantically for something to write with.

“Oh, and some guy wants to see you.”

Blessing revoked. Mother was snickering behind me.

“Stop that,” I hissed at her, spinning to point a finger at her. “Just - stop that.”

“Ivetta?” Jason asked. “You okay?”

“I’m coming,” I called, resigning myself to my fate.

At least Prince Licht wasn’t standing right outside my door. Jason was, though, and his dark chocolate eyes didn’t dart away from mine this time when I stepped outside. He had his arms crossed over his chest and his lips twisted into a scowl.

“Over there,” Jason said, nodding in the direction where I’d been sitting with Mother on the hillside. “You want me to get my dad?”

I shook my head. “No, I’ll be alright, but thanks. Could you tell your mother I’ll just drop the list off in the morning?”

He reluctantly nodded, shooting a glare over my shoulder and through the house to Prince Licht. I made a mental note to explain how to identify nobility and royalty to Jason later, before he stepped on the wrong toes and got himself in serious trouble. Although common sense should dictate that picking fights with people carrying swords was a bad idea.

Prince Licht was standing a few feet downhill from the abandoned dishes, rubbing his horse’s muzzle absentmindedly. Neither he nor the horse looked wet. The bridge was further downstream, too far for him to have used it to cross, but the river varied considerably in width just along this short section by the village. He must have jumped it at a narrow point.

“Prince Licht?” I asked hesitantly.

He turned to face me, his cold, dark crimson eyes almost black in the fading sunlight.

“Nokto won’t say anything like that again.”

“What?” I asked, dumbfounded.

“He’ll still pester you, of course, but if he pushes too hard, let me know,” he said, turning away from me and moving to the horse’s side.

“I - why?”

He mounted the horse in one fluid motion, settling into the saddle with an ease that made it look like he belonged there, one with the horse beneath him.

“A lot of girls like it. You don’t.”

“Wait,” I said, stopping him and his horse mid-turn. I took a tentative step closer, eyeing the horse nervously. “Thank you, Prince Licht.”

“His name’s Marron. He won’t hurt you,” Prince Licht said flatly.

“Marron,” I repeated. “I’m…not really used to horses.”

Prince Licht sighed, and suddenly he was down on the ground again, taking my wrist and leading me to the front of the horse. “Here.”

He guided my hand to Marron’s muzzle, and my eyes widened as the horse pressed his nose to my palm. The thin fur and soft skin felt like velvet. Marron huffed a breath, his nostrils flaring, and hot air puffed into my hand.

“A lot of horses like this,” Prince Licht said, releasing my wrist. “But some don’t. If you’re not familiar with a horse, it’s always safer to ask before approaching it.”

I nodded, afraid to move for fear of breaking the spell. Marron bumped his muzzle into my hand, and Prince Licht’s hand was on my wrist again, guiding me to stroke down the center of the horse’s face.

“Marron is easy. You don’t have to know anything about horses with him. He’s gentle.”

Prince Licht’s hand left my wrist again. I stroked Marron cautiously, but he really didn’t seem to care what I was doing, so long as I was petting him.

“He’s almost like a big dog,” I said wonderingly.

We stood in silence for a moment, the stillness only broken by an occasional huff from Marron.

“You should get back to your mother,” Prince Licht finally said.

It was only then, when I looked up at him, that I realized how close he was standing to me. I stepped quickly away, hoping the light was dim enough for him to miss my blush. He at least didn’t comment about it. His attention shifted to the saddle, and he mounted and turned Marron away before I could blink.

“Goodnight.”

“Goodnight, Prince Licht.”