The Girl at Court
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- Parts 5
When Prince Alexander returned from his schooling, all wind and gallop and golden youth, he barely remembered the quiet child who once lingered by the Queen's skirts. She was taller now, more composed. But still, he saw her as a girl. His little sister in all but name. She'd lived in his mother's wing, after all. He tousled her hair as if she were a pageboy and joked with her easily.
But court did notice her. They saw the raven hair, the clear skin, the way her eyes lowered modestly when spoken to. She was not titled, but she was beautiful. And beauty-well, it belonged to no class.
But Elizabeth Arundel belonged to no one.
Not yet.
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