A Dove's Tale

Chapter 13

I set the books beside me on the carriage seat, careful not to look at Prince Chevalier.

“Sorry for embarrassing you, your highness,” I apologized, suddenly self-conscious. Besides the teasing from the other princes and my messy hair and dusting of powdered sugar, I also had dried blood and snot from the little boy on my apron.

“Is this how you normally behave at festivals?” he asked coolly.

“I don’t normally go to festivals, your highness,” I said, looking out the window.

“That may be for the best,” he muttered. “You are an intolerable nuisance.”

I didn’t have a response to that. Though I’d done nothing wrong, it was easy enough to see that the attention I’d brought was not to his liking. He probably just wanted a few quiet moments at the bookseller’s stall. I couldn’t blame him for that. If I had my choice, I could’ve done with a little less drama myself. Especially that glimpse of those brown eyes. Just thinking about them made me shiver.

We rode in silence for a while, and then he spoke again.

“I’ll have tea in the gardens. By the pond.”

“Yes, your highness,” I replied quietly.

“You may leave after that.”

His tone wasn’t especially harsh, but his words stung. I should have expected this. The head maid could probably have me reassigned to another prince, but it would be better for me to leave the palace entirely. Coming back would be too humiliating.

“Or you may stay and read for a while, if you’d prefer.”

And prolong the agony? I shook my head.

“I’ll leave, your highness.”

His fingers caught my chin and turned me to face him.

“I expect you to be on time tomorrow morning.”

He’d surprised me so many times today already, and he’d done it again. I looked into his icy blue eyes, trying to discern any hidden meaning.

“You’re not firing me, Prince Chevalier?”

That rare smile played across his lips, though his eyes remained cold.

“You were no embarrassment.” He released my chin and poked me in the forehead. “And you are far too fragile to be released back into the wild.”

I blushed at that. “I do seem to attract trouble, don’t I, your highness?”

“Indeed. Though your ability to charm any would-be predators is unparalleled.”

“I don’t know what you mean, Prince Chevalier,” I said, looking back out the window.

“No, you don’t.” He paused for a moment. “You had a frightening experience when you were that child’s age.”

It wasn’t a question; it was a statement. I nodded.

“What happened?”

“Some older kids beat me, your highness,” I said quietly.

“Why?”

I shrugged. “They thought I was the bastard child of a p********e, your highness. They didn’t want me around.”

He was silent for a few minutes, and then he said, “The food stall.”

I bit my lip. He’d noticed. But of course he had. I’d practically jumped into his pocket when I saw those eyes. The severity of my reaction had been completely unnecessary and embarrassing. Maybe I’d been mistaken. Maybe that hadn’t been the person I thought.

Like I could make that mistake.

Maybe I should take a detour around the central square and the red-light district tonight, just in case.

“Who did you see?” he asked, his voice bringing me back to the carriage.

I shook my head, focusing on the green of the grass rolling past my window.

“It doesn’t matter, your highness.”

“That is up to me to decide.”

“Then I’d rather not say, your highness.”

The carriage finally jostled to a halt before he could ask any further questions. I reached over for the books, but Prince Chevalier reached them first. My heart dropped. I really didn’t want to talk anymore.

“Your hands are dirty,” he said simply.

“Oh, yes, sorry, your highness,” I said sheepishly, hoping I didn’t look as relieved as I felt. He picked up the books, and I followed him out of the carriage. “I’ll just get cleaned up and be right out with your tea.”

It was three o’clock. Two more hours until my walk home. I’d have to be careful to pay attention, or I could leave now. Prince Chevalier had said I could after I delivered his tea. Daylight alone was enough to scare off most shady characters - except him. But he would probably still be drinking in the central square at this point.

I found Prince Chevalier on a bench by the pond, stretched out on his back, already deeply immersed in one of his new books.

“Where would you like me to set your tea, Prince Chevalier?” I asked.

“Anywhere is fine,” he said, not looking away from the book. I set the tea on the ground next to him, and he suddenly turned to face me as my eyes came level with his. “Your book is on the other end of the bench.”

“Oh, thank you, Prince Chevalier,” I stammered, startled by how close his icy blue eyes were to mine. “I’ll look forward to reading that tomorrow,” I added, quickly standing up.

“Read it now,” he said shortly, sitting up and swinging his legs toward me. He settled back against the bench, crossing his legs casually as he cleared plenty of space for me. “Sit.”

He’d said I could leave early, didn’t he? Had he changed his mind? But what would be the point in making me stay, if he was only going to make me read the book he bought for me? Unless there was something else he wanted. It was so hard to tell with him, especially today. Nothing had gone to plan today, from our conversation in his room this morning until now. But maybe I was just overthinking things after the festival. I picked up the book and sat tentatively on the bench, as far from him as possible.

“Midnight Cinderella,” I read aloud. “I think I’ve heard of this one. Thank you for buying it for me, Prince Chevalier.”

“You will like it. It will appeal to your naïve sensibilities.”

Was that an insult? For once, I wasn’t sure. His tone wasn’t mocking, and it almost seemed as if it may have been a compliment. I turned the book over in my hands, considering.

“You said I may leave now, if I like, didn’t you, Prince Chevalier?”

“Yes.”

I bit my lip. So, he hadn’t changed his mind. And it would be safer to leave now than at five o’clock. With the additional detours I was planning on taking, I still wouldn’t get home until close to six o’clock. But I wouldn’t get to read. Was it selfish of me to want to stay? Maybe I could split the difference - read until four o’clock, and then head home. Going through the central square wouldn’t be so dangerous at this time of day. I knew where the drinks stall was, and I could easily avoid it, and him. There was even a sundial only a few feet away from the bench where Prince Chevalier and I were sitting, so I’d be able to keep track of the time.

“I’ll just sit somewhere else, but thank you, your highness,” I finally said.

The sturdy trunk of the shade tree next to the bench looked too appealing for me to pass up, even without the alternative prospect of sharing a bench with Prince Chevalier. I sat down against the bark, slipping my shoes off and wiggling my toes in the cool grass as I tucked my knees up under me. My ponytail rubbed between my back and the tree awkwardly, and I realized I’d forgotten to fix it when I got changed. Well, my workday was done, anyway. I untied the ribbon and finger combed my hair over my shoulder as I began to read. Midnight Cinderella, page one, chapter one.

It was hard to tear my eyes from the story, but I did so after each chapter to check the progress of the sundial. Four o’clock came far too quickly. I reluctantly closed the book and slipped my shoes back on. Prince Chevalier was lying across the bench again, intent on his own book. I picked up his empty teacup.

“Goodbye, Prince Chevalier.”

“You’re leaving early,” he commented, not taking his eyes from his book.

“People get rowdy at festivals, your highness, especially the later it gets,” I explained matter-of-factly. “And I’ll have to take a few detours to avoid the worst parts of the town.”

He turned his cold blue eyes on me.

“Black will still be in the square. Find him.”

Kindness, and now concern? His tone and attitude were the same frigid arrogance as usual, but I couldn’t help feeling that somebody had snuck into the palace, done away with the real Prince Chevalier, and was now posing as him. But he was right. The likelihood of me running into trouble tonight was much greater than normal, and having Prince Leon with me would significantly improve my chances of getting home safely.

“I’ll do that. Thank you again, your highness.”

It wasn’t hard to locate Prince Leon in the town square, with his tall, broad shoulders and his booming laugh. People surrounded him, drinking and talking as naturally as could be, and I hated to interrupt his fun. There was no sign of the brown eyes I dreaded. Maybe I would be fine on my own - maybe. But, then again, just because I didn’t see him didn’t mean he wasn’t there somewhere. Joe saw me in the crowd and called out to me, making my decision for me.

“Well, if it isn’t Leon’s lady friend! Ivetta, isn’t it? I’ll get you an apple cider.”

“Thank you, but you don’t have to worry about that, Joe,” I said, approaching Prince Leon at the bar. He grinned down at me and tousled my hair.

“Is it five o’clock already?” he asked.

“Not yet, but I wondered if you could walk me home.”

Joe plonked a mug on the bar in front of me.

“Take one for the road,” he said, beaming.

“Oh, thank you,” I stammered, picking it up tentatively.

“I’ll bring the mug back later, Joe. C’mon, Ivetta.” Prince Leon’s large hand rested comfortably on my shoulder as he wrapped his arm around me and steered us into the crowd. “I was hoping I’d catch you on your way home. Alcohol doesn’t always bring out the best in people.”

“No, it doesn’t. Actually, it was Prince Chevalier’s suggestion that I find you.”

“Really?” Prince Leon’s warm amber eyes regarded me fondly as he smiled. “So, how was the rest of your afternoon with the Brutal Beast?”

“Pretty quiet. We just read in the gardens. Is he normally like this around festivals?”

Prince Leon laughed. “Are you kidding? Usually, he comes riding through town on his white stallion, barely giving anybody a second glance. He almost drew his sword on a drunken oaf who wouldn’t get out of his way last year.”

I laughed, too. “That sounds more like him. Maybe the Prince Chevalier we saw today was an impostor, and he has the real Prince Chevalier locked up in a dungeon somewhere.”

“Maybe so. Or maybe he’s decided to be nice to you. He couldn’t have picked a better person.”

We’d left most of the crowd behind, and Prince Leon released my shoulders.

“You look good with your hair down,” he commented, running his fingers through it.

“Thanks,” I said shyly, brushing his hand away. “But maybe you’ve been drinking too much.”

He shrugged. “It’s possible. I’ll find out in the morning. Did you ask Chevalier about the bill?”

I nodded. “This morning after breakfast. He paid it.”

Prince Leon was silent for a moment.

“Guess I don’t need to worry about you anymore. Not with him, anyway.”

We continued walking for a while before I spoke again.

“Today was a wonderful day, but I’ll be glad to get back to the normal routine tomorrow.”

“You would say something like that,” he said, grinning wryly. “Tell me about your mother. Anything I can do to help?”

I shook my head, the smile fading from my face.

“She’s pretty sick, but there’s not much anybody can do.” I sighed heavily. “But I’m going to enjoy telling her about the festival, and I won’t have to leave out many details from the retelling today.”

“What are you, an angel or something?” Prince Leon teased.

I blushed. “You’re exaggerating, Leon.”

We’d reached the edge of the city, and I drained the last of my cider and handed him the mug.

“Thank you for everything, and could you thank Joe for me, too?”

“Sure thing.”

I could tell that he wanted to pat my head again, but his hands were both occupied with our mugs. He leaned in and kissed me on top of the head.

“See you around, Ivetta.”

“Goodnight, Leon,” I stammered, quickly turning to go.

I would leave that bit out when I was recounting the day for Mother.