BOOK 3 of The Ostler's Boy Series
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Love. Duty. Valor.
Court & Class.
A pseudo-medieval romance through the eyes of a reckless princess.
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After Svana and her Knight, there was a Princess and her love of adventure.
Eliza Rose, the wildes...
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I was miserable. It was a self-inflicted sort of awful, but there was no escaping it. In the comfort of my bed-chamber, I felt a little less insane, but the gravity of what I'd done had arrived as soon as I'd stopped running, and it'd had time to sink in.
I had taken one look at the man I wanted more than anything, panicked that he was doing the one thing I wanted him to do more than anything, and then, run away from him in a delusional fog. All in the name of a friendship that felt very silly to me as I laid buried in my sheets and my knight hid somewhere else inside the castle walls.
Or maybe he had returned to the Hunt. I didn't know.
Ser Willoughby had chased me, though. That devoted fool. And all the way back to the foyer. I might have stopped sooner if I had any control over the emotions propelling my legs, but when I saw the white horses welcoming me home, I collapsed on the steps and started sobbing because I did not wish to see them go.
Ever.
My mother came out the door, and her eyes were wild, and she looked to my knight for an explanation, but when he didn't give her one, she helped me to my feet and to my room. And then she sat on the edge of the bed while I cried for an hour and didn't tell her anything either, but she didn't press me until I was ready to talk.
"I'm sorry," I said, though it was muffled.
"Whatever for?" she asked. She stroked the back of my braid.
"I've embarrassed the Crown," I told her. "I should not be allowed to be in charge of these events."
"Why don't we start with what happened?" she asked. "Then we can revisit the Season if we must."
"Please do not punish Ser Willoughby again," I begged. "It was all my fault. It's always my fault."
"Did you have a fight with your Duke?" she wondered.
"No," I whined. "Not really."
"Did he say something you didn't like?"
"No." My voice got squeakier.
"Did he... I'm sorry, Eliza, you'll have to help a little here."
"Kristjan was there." I fought off another cry.
"Oh, sweetheart," she said. "And did you... offend the Duke somehow? Because of him?"
"He's his cousin," I confessed.
"Ah," she said. "Duke Löff is related to the Becks, and you did not know this?"
"No," I moaned. "And I am a fool for not realizing it."
"Did he hide it from you?" Her voice was darker.
"No," I said. "I... He didn't know that Kristjan was my... whatever he was. He didn't know. He was just as surprised to find the connection as I, but...."
