A Crown in Ash (The Ostler's Boy Book 3)

Chapter One

I read a book once. A dragon and a knight tricked an entire city into peddling them their coin. There was action; there was deceit; there were declarations of love in darkened alleyways between forbidden hearts. I loved that book so much that at my weakest moments, at moments when I was so bored I wanted to die, I would pray for my own creature to swoop down and rescue me like the dragon had his Sword. Or maybe just relieve me of my obligations for a single afternoon.

If you asked my mother, she'd say I was too eagerly overthinking. She'd suggest a new hobby, but it wasn't the hobbies that I lacked; I kept my nose inside of books. It was that what time did I have for anything outside of the Crown and books?

I knew it sounded silly. I was third born of three. I wasn't anywhere near the Crown, but Willem was, and Willem was dramatic and devoted to the arts. Arts he was terrible at. He was Heir Apparent but, apparently, thought that meant he should spend his whole day in and out of drawing rooms. I was the responsible one. He wore the title, but I suggested him ideas. I kept him up to date on property. He'd go as far as to threaten to abdicate once he was King and leave it all to me. God forbid my mother hear it.

And God forbid she knew where I was or why I was there. She would lock me away in the castle's tower, potentially for the sum of my remaining years, and she would not be sorry for it. She'd argue that it would serve me right for behaving so very badly because God forbid the Princess behave so very badly.

No, I'd wait until my father heard of it, and until then, the only company the small, windowed cell would offer would be that of my brother. He and his broad, looming shadow– the one I was running from– would never quite forgive me for vanishing. Will would make a big fuss over my error occurring under his temporary reign, even if it were for one measly hour, even if I returned in one piece, even if I never divulged to him where I was or who I was with. But he would visit.

Probably.

Much like the Queen, Will was righteous. More so than Sam or I or anyone else at court. He had to be. Just because he didn't want the Crown didn't mean he didn't try to. Kings were bound by Duty in a way that could never touch the rest of us, and because of that, his disinterest was irrelevant. Further, he would take my actions as a personal treason. So, he would visit, but he would never understand my intentions. He wouldn't try to. He would tell me that I was brash, or stupid, or reckless. That I had let him down. There would be no rationale. Willem would tell me I was a fool, assuming I could even explain the evening without passing out from embarrassment or puking all over his shoes in the throne room.

Regardless, I had my script down to the last T, like any good playwright. I would tell him it was all his fault he ever found out. It was his fault for leaving his role long enough to attend the Apple Faire in the first place, for not trusting me to be alone with just my knight– even if his gut was right in assuming that I was up to no good, but I would tell him that it was his fault for forgetting that I was an adult, just like him! That I was the Lady of the Season, whatever that meant, or that I was expected to be at the faire. He wasn't. Although the night's events weren't officially a part of the itinerary, I told him I was fine with Ser Willoughby.