Walking with Giants

Prolog

Cnoc nan Uahm (Hill of the Caves)

Late 1300s

Nae, me babe...Hegar! Endelyn’s voice echoed through his dream. Hegar jerked awake and sat up in the cramped, dark enclosure he currently called home, sweat pouring down his face and plastering his greying dark curls to his skin. Regret stabbed through his mind, causing physical pain. For a moment he sat shivering, fighting off the grief which threatened to overtake him again. It wouldn’t remain, he couldn’t allow it.

The fright dreams were nothing new, they frequented his nights, but allowing himself to feel the regret defeated everything he now stood for. Fists clenched, he rose from the pile of straw which served as his bed. Laying his head against the low-ceilinged rock wall, he pounded one fist against the wall; again, and again, and again. Pain radiated up his arm and blood seeped from his damaged hand. He focused on the physical pain, allowing it to drain the emotional wounds in his mind. Memories were fruitless. His beloved was dead, the babe she’d been carrying was dead, and those who’d caused their demise had been dealt with.

I see you’re awake. His master’s voice came from around the corner. The evil being never slept; it came and went like the wind, appearing and disappearing as it pleased. It was ever watching, ever waiting for him, the prey.

Hegar turned towards the blood red eyes leering down on him. He often wondered why he played this game of obedience which left him emotionless, a mere shell of a man. But the master had given him what he’d desired — revenge. In repayment, Hegar had to see things through to the very end.

His voice emotionless, he answered his master. Awake? Yes, as you knew I would be.

Have you done as I asked? The query hung heavy with threats, as if the master didn’t already know what his answer would be. Funny that they engaged in this cat-and-mouse match nearly every day. Hegar wouldn’t dare disobey, as his master well knew. The cost was too great.

He took a deep breath before answering, not allowing himself to think on what would happen to those his actions affected. None of that mattered. Nothing mattered any more, other than finishing what they had started.

Yes, Your Grace, the girl has been found.

Chapter One

Astoria

Early 1400s

If someone told me I’d one day find myself stranded nearly a furlong off the ground, I probably would’ve laughed and congratulated them on their outstanding imagination. Yet there I was, stuck in the most ridiculous position of my life. I more-or-less sat, my hind quarters wedged in the gap of a tree branch, my lips nearly kissing my knees. Not the most comfortable position, I might add.

My outer kirtle flipped open and draped about my waist. The inner kirtle twisted and bunched about my legs. One boot, and one bare foot, both caked with mud, poked straight up before my face. I must’ve looked like a bizarre breed of half-opened crocus. My once pristine cape flopped from my shoulders. Rather than provide a cushion between me and the tree limb, it bunched behind my back, creating a solid lump. My poor battered wimple twisted grotesquely, nowhere near demurely covering my neck and framing my face, and I had no idea where my veil had gone.

If I’d had my humor about me, something I’m rarely lacking, I might have laughed at the situation. However, seeing as my humor had got me into this mess, I felt it wise to refrain.

What was I doing in this ridiculous position? To properly explain I suppose I must go back a bit.

To start, my full name is Adeline Celesta Elaine of Astoria. Quite a royal mouthful. And, sad to say, I am a princess. Not the best example of such, but one can hardly help the family they’re born into.

From as far back as I can remember, I’ve been referred to behind whispered fingers as the other princess. I’ve often wondered if a spell was placed upon me as an infant. Mayhap even, I was swapped at birth.

I come between my eight siblings, smashed in the middle like an ant trapped between two rocks. My family is perfect in the way of royalty. Me, on the other hand, I’ve heard it speculated — again, behind whispered fingers and closed doors — that I might be the product of a forbidden romance. A ridiculous speculation. A curse? Very likely. A changeling? Mayhap. But an indiscretion? Preposterous. Sadly, one can’t stop vicious rumors.

Shall I list all my royal imperfections? Oh dear, where to begin? A princess should stand erect, feet slightly apart, toes pointed forward. I stand somewhat slouched, heels connected, toes pointed out.

Princesses should laugh softly as a whispering breeze. I snort, then double over into a bubbling, full belted guffaw.

Princesses are graceful when they walk, as if floating on unseen clouds. I clomp when I tread, announcing my presence from twenty paces away.

A princess can stitch, strum, and sing. Her mind is quiet, her demeanor mild.

Every princess, except me.

Despite popular opinion I do have one alluring attribute, my quick wit and humor. One maid said I could charm a nesting dragon out of her den.

Still, betrothals melted away faster than the frost each morn.

Were the choice my own, I’d have turned a blind eye and spent my days with nose pressed to the written word, but ’twas not to be. My parents and fate had other plans.

Chapter Two

Ye’re a disgrace! What were ye thinking, Adeline? Going below to the kitchens, cooking, flinging burned tarts at your betrothed? Ye are a princess, not some common cottar. I’m ashamed to call ye my child.

Mam stalked back and forth in front of where I stood by Da’s gilded throne in the great hall — the all-purpose room that trebled as a place to eat, hold court, and conduct all manner of living chores in the evenings. Her blue eyes seethed with anger. Her shoes clicked in agitation on the cold stone floor, softening only when she crossed the red and gold rug running away from the throne between our refectory tables and the war-filled, room-length tapestry.

Paintings of ancestors long past stared at me in disapproval from where they were painted on our great hall’s walls. You could always tell when Mam was furious — it was the only time you could hear her footsteps.

I hadn’t meant to anger Mam, I never did. Still, that seemed to be the resulting action anytime I attempted to please.

This last indiscretion had occurred because I’d heard that Prince Leon from the Kingdom of Plockton had a weakness for strawberry tarts. ’Twasn’t my intent to burn them or to flip them onto his head like a scarlet cap of shame, but my feet had other ideas. The moment I’d attempted to offer the man his favorite sweeties, my boots had slipped on the reeds placed across the floor to produce fresh smells, and the tarts went flying. One landed at his feet, two streaked his tunic with sticky, strawberry stains and one landed upon his balding head, perching like a jester’s crown.

Honestly, you’d have thought the man would have thanked me. My mistake had distracted from his mundane discourse on how to devour pears in syrup, and the berry ooze was a definite improvement upon his hairless head.

But no. Far from grateful, he’d uttered the foulest bit of language I’d ever heard and stalked off. He didn’t say as much, but I assumed this meant we wouldn’t be wed.

Part of me actually sighed in relief at the outcome. ’Twasn’t that I wished to remain unwed. I well knew my duty. I only hoped I could wed a man who suited me as well as Mam and Da suited each other. I’d seen far too many unions which made both parties miserable.

Prince Leon had been everything desirable for our Kingdom: a second son from a thriving realm, powerful armies at his command, sure to plant the seed of many sons within me...but the looks of hunger he sent my way and the manner in which he addressed me — as if I were a delicious tart, good only for devouring, then tossing the remains aside, filled me with revulsion.

I’m sorry Mam, truly I am. I wouldn’t argue. I’d learned long ago ’twas best to make my apologies, so she could storm away and pretend once more that I didn’t exist. Arguing or explaining only prolonged the lecture.

Besides, I truly was regretful. I was far too adept at sneaking away from my companion, Lyss, and doing as I wished. Lyss had begun threatening to tie bells to my ankles, so she’d hear when I sneaked off.

Unfortunately, I had a habit of acting before thinking things through. Slinking off to the kitchens after all had gone to sleep and cooking a mess of charred tarts by the light of the low burning stove had not served me well. Once again, I’d managed to disgrace our kingdom and my family.

Mam threw her hands in the air and turned to face Da, who’d risen and stepped down from his throne. A solemn look creased his brow.

’Twas a mistake to allow her to learn her letters and give her so much freedom. I told ye that from the start, William. Even as a babe, I sensed she would test our ways. Now she’s grown so self-willed there’s no controlling her. She’s too much like —

Mam broke off and turned away, her scarlet kirtle swaying as her heels clicked sharply against the floor. I wondered what villain she’d almost compared me to. She clacked over to where Lyss stood, head tucked in respect. Thankfully, Mam hadn’t blamed her for my wayward act. It often seemed as if she liked Lyss much better than she liked me.

With a sigh, Mam whirled back towards Da and myself. The determined look in her eyes made my skin creep with foreboding. That feeling intensified as she reconvened her speech. ’Tis high time for her to wed. Find a prince far from here, William, one who hasn’t met her. She needn’t have much to do with him before she’s wed. Mayhap if she doesn’t have time to offend the man, he’ll not break off the betrothal as all have done in the past.

Da stepped forward and nestled his hand across Mam’s back in a rare display of affection. His voice was tender, yet firm as he spoke. All is not lost, Isabelle, she’ll find her way.

Mam’s eyes met Da’s with a look of adoration and I was, for the moment, forgotten. For one brief second, I contemplated grabbing Lyss’s hand and making a dash for freedom, away from the confines of royalty and all things constrictive. We could live as cottars in the forest. Two quaint sisters who went where they pleased and did as they wished.

This thought quickly vanished as I realized I knew not how to clean, and the only thing I could cook was badly burnt tarts. No doubt I’d find myself in the bottom of a wild boar’s stomach within a few days.

Mam sighed and backed away from Da. Her next words surprised me. I know William, she will find her way and will one day make an excellent queen. My euphoria was short lived. But that day is not today. She must wed immediately. A strict husband who brings prosperity to our kingdom will keep her in line.

At those words, Mam turned and cast me one last glare. Then she stalked past Lyss and out the high arched doors of our great hall. The sound of her footsteps ceased as soon as she was through the door.

Chapter Three

I glanced up at Da with hesitation. He wasn’t as cold as Mam and occasionally seemed to care for me, but I knew his adherence to all things royal was firm. ’Twas astounding he’d allowed me to learn my letters and read. Most women, even those of my standing, were barred from such. My sisters hadn’t been given the same liberties.

"What were ye thinking, Adeline? Da addressed me with a long-suffering sigh. It can’t have been thy intent to disgrace Prince Leon in front of the whole court...or was it? I know ye’re headstrong, but ye aren’t a fool. Was this thy way of rebelling against the match? We might’ve smoothed things over, had ye not lost thy temper and called the man a bald-headed jabberknowl."

I saw a rare twinkle of humor dwelling alongside the disapproval in his eyes. That twinkle made me brave. "He was, Da. The man didn’t know the difference between an elf and a dwarf. How could I wed one so unlearned?"

Da’s face twitched and he turned away. I suspected he was hiding his features so I wouldn’t guess at the effect my words had upon him. ’Twas too late, though. I’d already seen him bite his lip as he’d done since I was a mere moppet, to keep from laughing.

Finally, he faced me again, his eyes stern and unyielding. My heart sunk. There would be no rescue from my situation. Ye shouldn’t know the difference either, Adeline. Ye’ve heard the priest and what he has to say of magic. Thy mam is correct. Ye’ve had far too much freedom over the years.

"But Da, just being an elf or dwarf has nothing to do with magic. It’s just what they are. And magic isn’t all evil, surely you know that. Erie says — "

No!

Da’s shout bit at me like an agitated viper and I stumbled rearward in shock. My back met the twisted tips of an elaborate candelabrum, and I nearly toppled it.

When he spoke again his voice was harder than the curled metal I pressed against. Erie is thy head guard Adeline, not thy advisor. He’s a good man. I trust him to guard ye and protect ye as carefully as he’d protect his own babes, but I don’t hold with his beliefs. Magic has brought much trouble to our family. ’Tis why thy mam —

Once again words were severed, leaving me to wonder what secrets my parents kept. I knew Mam held especial rancor toward all things magic, but I’d not heard Da speak against it ’til now.

I’ve made up my mind. Da’s words seeped out, greeting me with chilling foreboding. Prince Hugo of Montoy contacted me a few months past offering an agreement for betrothal. At the time ye were betrothed to Prince Leon so I refused him. I believe, though, were I to send word that I’ve reconsidered, Hugo will accept the match. He’s a third son, which brings benefits to all. Once ye are wed I’ll name Hugo my heir. Thy two older sisters married into bordering kingdoms and I have no living sons.

Da paused, his dark eyes misting with memories. I suspected his thoughts dwelt on my two sisters and one brother who’d died as mere moppets. Though ’twas common for babes to perish, familiarity didn’t ease the pain of death.

Once we receive word, we’ll make preparations for travel. Ye’ll wed in Montoy, then return with Hugo, thy mam, and I to Astoria. Thy mam is correct, there’s no need for ye to have much to do with the man before being joined to him.

Prince Hugo? Some disturbing stories had reached our kingdom concerning him. One such involved a farmer’s flock of prize sheep which the prince supposedly took possession of and slaughtered, after their fleece produced an odd color of wool. The rumors were probably exaggerated but why would they have started in the first place, if the man weren’t a levereter, corrupt from the inside out?

But Da, what of the rumors? Prince Hugo is...he’s... I didn’t know what to say. How could I describe a man I’d never met, but whose name left jabs of fear stampeding down my spine? I clasped the stiff folds of my green and grey kirtle, fisting them in my grasp until my hands ached.

He’s thy only option. I’m sorry Adeline, I’ll not bend on this. ’Tisn’t what ye’d hoped for — what any of us had hoped for. But ’tis for the best.

Da wouldn’t meet my eyes as he spoke. His clenched fists, his stiff stance, the way his voice dropped low and trembled, all spoke of concern. I felt there was something about Hugo he was hiding. What was it? Despite his stern ways, Da seemed to care for my well-being. He’d never purposely put me in harm’s way. Then why was he serving me up as an offering on Prince Hugo’s sacrificial alter?

I couldn’t fathom why the prince even wished to wed. Last I’d heard, his da had passed and his eldest brother had taken the throne. Hugo had riches and little responsibility. He flitted from one lass to the next, passing them about like cream boylede at a fête.

I turned and stared at the tapestry behind me. ’Twas a battle scene which oozed gore. The hero, my gran-da, stood staring over a sea of severed limbs with a look of solemnity on his face. I wondered, as I had many times before, why all our tapestries screamed with violence. Just once, I would have liked a stitching depicting a fluffy, blue-eyed lamb.

With a sigh, I turned back to face Da. His mind, it seemed, was set. I would have to be wed, and the man he’d chosen filled me with fear. ’Twasn’t just the rumors which bothered me. Something about the prince set off a warning cry in my soul. If only I had more time....

Time! A feeling of sureness swept from my head to my toes. ’Twas my way out, I was sure of it. If Hugo was a man of integrity, time would reveal this. If he wasn’t, I would convince him to break the betrothal, as I’d done with past suitors. I knew Mam, and possibly Da would balk at the suggestion, but I had to try.

Will you grant me one request, Da? Might I have a fortnight to get to know the man?

Addie. He spoke with a voice of warning. Still,’twas encouraging that he’d spoken the name only those who cared for me used. I took it as a sign and sped on, cutting off his thoughts with the force of an enraged bull.

I know you and Mam wish me to be wed without causing a scene. Still, if I promise not to disgrace you, could I have the time I ask? I do wish to help our kingdom and please you. I know I haven’t shown this in the past, but now I’m truly committed. I’ll appear as the perfect princess, Da. I’ll practice day and night until I meet Prince Hugo. I’ll curtsy and speak softly, and not use a single curse word, not fie or fustilugs, or even wae —

Da’s eyebrows quirked in surprise and I colored in shame. I’d forgotten that only Lyss and a few of the lower maids knew of my unsavory habit. I wasn’t around Da often enough for him to have heard. So much for a plea-bargain. Da was now likely to send me off gagged and bound until I was safely wed.

As if to condemn me further, my wimple slipped, and one dark curl strayed from its stays, drifting into my grey eyes. I dropped my head and backed once more into the unwelcoming grasp of the candelabrum.

When Da’s voice bounced over and kissed my ears with a hint of humor, I jerked my head back up in amazement. I believe that Prince Hugo will be getting much more than he bargained for when he meets ye, lambkin. I may not even need to —

There it was again. Words broken off by deep, smothering secrets. Silence once more filled the room, and Da’s dark eyes turned serious, every hint of humor erased.

He walked to meet me, his gaze surveying the tapestry. Finally, when I thought the silence might strangle me, his voice seeped out, Fine. I’ll give ye a fortnight. I’ll even give ye the time without thy mam and myself — I believe thy mam, as well-meaning as she is, brings out the worst in ye.

My eyes brightened and I opened my mouth to rejoice. At this, Da put up his hand.

I’ll do this on one condition. Lyss will report to me all thy doings once we reunite. If ye’ve done anything to bring shame to our kingdom, I’ll not be as forgiving as I’ve been in the past. Ye’ll find thyself locked in a convent until I find a match for ye. ’Tis high time ye did thy duty, daughter.

I ducked my head in shame, acknowledging Da’s rebuke. His words were deserved, as I well knew. I needed to spend all my effort trying to act as a proper princess should.

Da continued, I’ll send a small entourage to accompany ye across the sea and Hugo may meet ye with his caravan once ye set ashore. Fourteen days into thy courtship thy mam and myself will meet ye at Hugo’s court. If all is well, ye shall be wed and we’ll all travel back to Astoria together.

I couldn’t help the wash of relief and hope that poured over me. Had I heard him correctly? Despite everything royal, and Mam’s objections, Da was agreeing with my request. Mayhap all this was a dream and I’d wake to find myself unhappily wed to the fool of a prince from Plockton. I turned and lifted my eyes to the horrifying tapestry of violence. Definitely no white lamb there, I had to be awake.

Who — who will you send with me? I prayed that those accompanying would be the servants who revered my da, not my mam.

"Erie and Marcum will accompany as head of a small contingent of guards. I may not agree with Erie’s philosophies, but there is none better to keep ye safe. I will allow Erie to select four other guards to accompany thee.

Bryant will do as a cook, though he’s a mere underling and Bogdona will attend to the washing of thy wear. Clara will serve as thy maid, and Lyss, as always, will remain with ye as companion. All others Hugo will provide.

’Twas nearly too good to be true. I would be leaving the restraints of my mam, traveling to someplace new, and, with a great deal of luck, might finally prove myself as a princess of worth. Despite qualms about Hugo, a small prick of hope dropped to my heart.

Gramercy Da! I threw myself at him and wrapped my arms tight. Then, recalling I was to be a model princess, I backed away and dropped to one knee, bowing my head in respect. You won’t regret this Da, I promise.

The eyes of every ancestor looked down on me from their paintings in disbelief. I scowled, then dropped my head once more.

Da took my hand and lifted me to him, a questioning smile curled about his lips. I suppose I’ll find out soon enough if ’tis true, he mumbled, shaking his head. Ye are dismissed.

I bowed my head once more, then sped to where Lyss stood near the back of the hall. Sadly, despite my resolve to act as a proper princess, my body never seemed to heed my mind. Before reaching Lyss, I tripped over myself and ran headlong into the side of the refectory table. A half-drained goblet met my elbow and went flying into the room-length tapestry. Looking up to survey the damage, I saw that my gran-da’s image now sported a dark red ooze to his forehead, cheeks and chin. He seemed to glare down on me in distaste. Faugh! I yelled, forgetting already my promise to Da.

Adeline! His sharp rebuke shot through the hall and I whirled to face him once more. Waesucks, when would I learn to think before I spoke?

This time Lyss saved me. She stepped towards Da, speaking for the first time since we’d entered the great hall. I’ll send Joan to clean that, Your Majesty. Shall I take Princess Adeline to her quarters, and assist in selecting appropriate wear for travel?

Da stared at us both, before walking back to his throne and slumping into its rust-colored cushions with an exhausted sigh. Yea, Lyss, ’twould be appreciated. Then he raised his eyebrows, a curious expression perching in his eyes. While ye’re at it, work on improving the princess’s vocabulary, prithee.

Chapter Four

Lyss dipped her head and knees in respect before following me out the door. Once we were far from Da’s hearing, she paused in the corridor, both hands set on her hips in rebuke. "So, Addie, I’m to improve thy vocabulary. I wonder what His Highness would think were he to find ye’re well versed in several languages and can curse fluently in each one."

Her stern gaze gave way to a smirk. Lyss had been my companion ever since she’d been dropped upon my parents’ doorstep in the pouring rain eight years past. Strangely, she’d had no memory of her home, kin, or why she’d been abandoned. The ill-fated moppet simply stood weeping, golden hair tangled, rain dripping into her blue eyes. The only thing she’d recalled was her name, Lyss.

She was now my dearest friend and knew me better than any of my kin. To this day, I know not why my parents took her in. But ’twas a blessing they did. I fear had she not come along, I would have withered away, attempting to please Mam and the throne and failing at both. I’d have been a hollow shell of my true self.

Lyss raised her eyebrows at my silence, and I cringed, realizing I’d been lost in thought. Again. I quickly recalled the conversation we’d been having concerning my cursing abilities. ’Twould probably be best if he doesn’t discover that talent, Lyss. Although you must admit, I curse better than all our knights combined.

Lyss shook her head at me, but her lips twitched with amusement. That ye do, Addie, though ’tis not the accomplishment most princes appreciate. Will ye be demonstrating such to Prince Hugo, or do ye plan to keep thy promise to thy Da?

The promise. More than anything I wished to please Da, watch my tongue and fulfill my duty as a true princess. But was it even possible?

My lips bent down in dismay, as I allowed my fears full reign. A chill brought about by much more than the stone walls surrounding us filled my being. What am I to do, Lyss? I promised Da I could act as a proper princess, but I don’t think I know how. And I really don’t wish to wed Prince Hugo.

I stomped in frustration, raising putrid scents from the mildewed straw beneath my feet. Why did I have to be born as I am? My sisters never question, nor act amiss. They can curtsy without falling, speak prettily, and have no problem gaining favor from titled men. My two older sisters wed young and Beatrice is betrothed already at thirteen. ’Tis likely that Margaret and Emma will also wed well when their time comes. I’ll reach my seventeenth year before the upcoming frost. ’Tis a wonder I’ve not sprouted grey hairs in my ancient state! Mam is correct Lyss, I am a disgrace.

I sank to the ground next to an old rat hole and hid my face. I didn’t even look up when Lyss’s hand brushed against my shoulder.

It takes more than speaking prettily and curtsying with grace to be a good princess, Addie. And wedding young doesn’t automatically make a great queen. All thy servants love ye. ’Tis because ye treat them with kindness. Besides, thy learning has taught ye to question what is right and what is not. Mayhap someday our people will be better off because of thy efforts.

I finally looked up. I appreciated Lyss’s words, but my despair was difficult to explain, even to my dearest friend. In truth, nobility tolerated me, domestics stood in awe of me and both considered me odd. I stuck out like a scarlet pheasant among hens and hounds. Nowhere did I belong.

I could express none of this aloud, not even to Lyss. Instead, I fell back to what I did best. I jested. My servants love me, do they? I suppose ’tis why Humphries called me a clumsy whiffling after he discovered I’d been in his kitchen? I can definitely see how that would be interpreted as a term of endearment.

Lyss smiled gently then took my hand, helping me to my feet. Though she appreciated my humor, she saw through the facade. My friend knew that above all, I wished to please. It seemed the only way to prove my worth was to wed and bear a son.

Come, Addie. We’ll look through thy ensemble and find the perfect wear. By the time I’m done with ye Prince Hugo won’t notice if ye curse or not. And if he’s not worthy of ye...well, we’ll figure that out when the time comes.

I sighed and let her lead me away. I could see no way out of the task before me. But I was determined that no matter what happened, I would meet the journey ahead as a true princess.

Chapter Five

Are ye well, Addie?

True princess be hanged!

Da had been correct. Prince Hugo had accepted the betrothal arrangements as readily as a cat takes to cream. It had taken two fortnights for the messengers to go and return twice or thrice, making the arrangements for my wedding journey, while Lyss and the sewing maids created new finery for me to wear on my wedding journey, though for most of the travel, I would be wearing my older things that were fit to be encrusted by the dust of the roads. I now found myself traveling away from Astoria, toward a shady future.

The travel time did not count against the fortnight I’d been promised; Mam and Da planned to start a fortnight after I left, which would leave me the time for getting acquainted with Prince Hugo.

It had been a long and bumpy journey. Though Hugo didn’t live across the sea as Mam had hoped, we did need to cross the channel to reach Montoy, the kingdom from which Prince Hugo hailed. The journey was supposed to take five days on the channel, and an additional three on land on either side of the channel. Unfortunately, no one saw fit to inform the wind. It had gone on leave two days into our journey, stranding us mid-crossing. Then, once it returned, ’twas so happy to see us, it took our carrack in its embrace and tossed us about with enthusiasm.

Despite her positive outlook when Da announced my sentence, Lyss had been agitated since we started the journey. Still, she stayed by my side as I became ill again, and again, and again. Kneeling over a bucket which served as a chamber pot I’d moaned, Da would surely lose faith could he see me now. Prithee, don’t tell him I’ve taken to worshipping the chamber pot. He may turn me over to the priest for reconverting.

Lyss had sighed in exasperation and brushed hair back from my face. Down in the hull where we were forced to stay — both for propriety and because I couldn’t keep anything but small bits of food down — I was out of men’s sight. I’d given up on wearing my wimple while trapped in the foul-smelling excuse for living quarters. I’d tried to persuade Lyss to do the same, but my ever-proper friend somehow stayed immaculate even while living in a cramped space where straw mats served as beds, and the bucket smelled of more than just the night soil.

When the wind finally left off playing with us, we’d still had to sail to where Hugo’s caravan would meet us. Four days later than we’d anticipated, the wind had finally pushed us to shore and we’d met land.

Upon leaving the carrack we came upon Hugo’s convoy. Though they’d been waiting the extra days, four guards, three maids, two scullions, four wash women, two coachmen, and a carriage, greeted us with enthusiasm.

The swirled carvings and the colorful painting of Montoy’s crest on the carriage door appeared cheerful enough, but ’twas all an illusion. Our transport wobbled horribly and jumped at every single bump in the road. Five other, plainer transports followed to carry the servants, tents and supplies. His Princeliness couldn’t be bothered to greet his future bride himself. I was to be brought to him, like the purchased possession I was. We were informed the caravan would proceed to Montoy to meet Hugo in three days’ time.

Addie, do ye hear me? Are ye well?

Our carriage jarred along the rocky terrain swamped with unbearable heat and flies. Sweat trickled down my forehead in a non-princess-like manner. Clunk! The carriage hit yet another large bump and I was thrown against the wooden side, one arm splaying itself through one of the large openings. I pulled it back in and took a deep breath, trying not to regurgitate my last meal, as I’d been doing regularly. The jarring of the carriage was no better than the swaying of the ship. I rubbed my sore arm in agitation. My legs had bruises from bracing against the straw mats in our carrack, my arms had bruises from being thrown against the carriage repetitively, and my brain had bruises from trying to think up witty answers to my head maid’s oft-repeated question.

Friends or not, I was growing tired of being witty. Yes Lyss, I’m quite well. ’Tis my greatest pleasure to lose sustenance repeatedly, not to mention the delirious joy I feel at meeting the beast I’ll soon wed. I couldn’t be happier.

Lyss didn’t laugh or lecture me. ’Twas odd. His Majesty shouldn’t have set ye up like this, she mumbled, ’Tis madness! The stories I hear about Prince Hugo — he’s a levereter of the worst kind. Why couldn’t ye have stayed put? Ye could have wed a Lord from Astoria, one who is known to be trustworthy.

My eyes went wide at her criticisms. This was odd indeed. Lyss, my ever-proper handmaid, the one who instructed me to sit prettily and who scolded me for cursing. The one who’d known for over a month that we’d be traveling to meet Hugo and hadn’t voiced a word of complaint, was speaking against Da.

I raised my eyebrows as her gaze darted out the windows as if watching for bandits.

Why couldn’t I wed any known lords? For one, they don’t appreciate my gift of gab, as you lovingly call it. In addition, most men prefer their feet in one piece, not smashed flat like parchment from my stumbles. Lyss scrunched her blue eyes in annoyance and opened her mouth to interject.

I didn’t allow it. And don’t get me started on my curtsies. Each time I try, my feet insist on rebellion. One moment I’m attempting to impress with an elegant dip, the next, I find myself face down at my betrothed’s feet. For some odd purpose that doesn’t impress. Despite the riches which come with my title, those who know of me are wary. Who knows what insanity I might pass on to my seed?

I grinned, hoping to charm her from her skittishness. ’Twas when the carriage rolled over yet another large bump, causing my stomach to roil. I moaned and covered my lips. Lyss leaned her head out and motioned to Erie, who rode near the carriage on horseback. He nodded and cantered ahead to speak with the coachmen. Within minutes, the carriage had rolled to a stop.

Carriage travel had never agreed with me, even as a moppet. ’Twas why the last two men da had dared betroth me to had visited our kingdom, rather than the other way around.

Erie stepped to the carriage door and opened it. Ignoring his hand of help, I stumbled down the carriage steps and dashed into the bushes, Lyss close at my