I spun around, gasping at the closeness of his face. “I think we’ve been here long enough. It should be safe to return.” My voice was as steady as I could make it.
“Yes,” he said, not breaking my gaze. “I think it should be safe enough.”
For a long moment, neither of us moved, and I tried to remember how to breathe. Then he took my hand, threading it back through his arm, and guided me back to the road.
For the second night in a row, I struggled to sleep—although for entirely different reasons. I replayed the night with Philip over and over in my mind and admitted to myself that if he had tried to kiss me there in the market, I wouldn’t have stopped him.
But I had to be stronger. He had said he had no interest in balls and the expectations of nobility, and I had no place among his clearly loving family. I could picture them easily, the smiles and laughter as they gathered, overflowing whatever modest house they had chosen as their meeting place, all of them deferring to the matriarch. I wanted so desperately to be part of that picture.
But for how long? How long before I chafed at such a life and longed for my own home and family across the ocean? I was enjoying life as a goose girl far more than I would have dreamed possible, but I couldn’t deny my identity forever, or the other parts of my true self.
We could never work, and I knew it. I was keeping secrets from Philip, though they weren’t of my own choosing, and I had to keep my distance.
It was a long night, and if tears were shed, my pillow had no way to betray me.
In the morning, I couldn’t face the dining hall, so I went to Arvin instead. He was already awake and eating his bucket of oats, so I tucked myself into the far corner of his stall and told him all about what we had found at the viscount’s home and our narrow escape.
Paperwork! The obsession of you humans for scratching things on pieces of paper never ceases to astound me.
I rolled my eyes. “Don’t pretend you don’t know the value of reading and writing. You’re far too intelligent for that. And think how much worse it would be if the viscount had kept everything in his mind and not written anything down!”
Arvin snorted, apparently unimpressed by my argument, and was about to lower his muzzle back into his bucket when he froze. His ears pricked back just as I also heard voices.
“Hey, you! Stable boy. Fetch us horses.” The speaker sounded arrogant but young, almost certainly a noble youth.
When there was no response, he repeated his words more stridently.
“You mean me?” asked a familiar, disbelieving voice. “I’m not a stable boy.”
My heart sank, and I scrambled to my feet.
“What are you doing in the stables, then?” the first voice asked. “Stop your games and fetch us horses. Or I shall have you punished.”
“You aren’t in charge of me,” Colin said, his voice just outside Arvin’s stall now.
“I am if I say I am,” the older boy replied, a nasty edge to his tone.
Arvin turned to face the front of his stall, his oats abandoned. I slipped forward to stand at his head, neither of us noticed by the group of boys who stood a short distance away. The noble youth had a companion with him, another noble from his clothes, although the second boy looked uneasy, glancing around the large building.
I followed his gaze and caught a flicker of movement. Was that Harry? But any hope that he might step forward and help Colin was dashed when he took one look at the unfolding drama and escaped out a side door. Which meant if the conflict escalated, it would be up to me to step in.
Walk away, Colin, I pleaded silently. The last thing either of us needed was a fight with some unknown noble in the middle of the chaos already unfolding.
The noble boy stepped forward threateningly. “I said, prepare me a horse.”
“And I said, I’m not a stable boy,” Colin said. “Not only do I not work for you, but the grooms would have my hide if I touched any of their stuff.”
The noble stepped closer again, lowering his voice. “I don’t care if you’re a stable boy or not, fetch me a horse.”
I’ll fetch him a horse. Arvin surged forward, and I only just managed to throw my arms around his neck and weigh him down.
Out in the open it wouldn’t have worked, but penned in by the stall and its closed door, my force made him stop. I could feel him quivering with rage beneath my arms.
Let me go this instant, and open that door. I’ll show them some manners.
“No,” I whispered firmly, fear lending me unnatural strength. “You go out there, hooves and teeth flying, and you’re just as liable to hurt Colin as those other boys.”
I didn’t add my greater fear. For all his bluster, the damage a young noble boy could do to a servant of the king was limited. The monarchs took their responsibility to those who worked for them seriously. A mere horse, on the other hand, and one whose owner was eager to see him killed…
If a noble reported Arvin had attacked him, Sierra would leap to have him put down.
Movement outside the stall distracted me from my single-minded purpose. The noble boy closed the distance and picked Colin up by the front of his shirt, pulling him off the ground.
Colin yelped and swung at the boy. He missed him, but the attempt enraged the noble.
“Why, you little—” He slammed Colin’s back against the wall, knocking the wind from him.
Arvin screamed, surging against me, and my own feet left the ground as he slammed against the stall door. The noble didn’t seem to notice, all his attention on Colin, but his companion looked our way, his eyes widening when he saw me there, witness to the interaction.
He grabbed at his friend’s sleeve, but the other boy shook him off with an irritated sound. Glancing around, the angry noble spotted a large bucket of dirty water and strode toward it, dragging Colin behind him.
I sucked in a breath. With Arvin leaning heavily against the stall door, there was no way I could get it open and get out without also letting the horse out. But I couldn’t stay here and let that boy dunk Colin’s head in the water.
Colin, his breath returned, also seemed to realize the noble’s intention. He struggled, but the other boy had a firm grip.
My hand reached for the latch. “You leave this to me,” I said to Arvin as firmly as I could. “Stay here!”
But just as I was about to throw the door open and send us both tumbling out to confront Colin’s attacker, new footsteps sounded. Someone hurried toward us, and even the noble boy paused to see who had arrived.
For a moment I almost didn’t recognize Philip, although he wore one of his usual nondescript outfits. Harry followed behind him, the groom keeping several strides back as if he didn’t wish to be involved. Arvin instantly went still and stopped fighting me.
“What is going on here?” Philip asked in a voice laden with anger and authority.
“Nothing to do with you,” the noble youth said defiantly, but he didn’t sound quite so confident anymore.
“So that is not a servant of the king being detained from the king’s work?” Philip asked, his low volume somehow suggesting danger.
The youth said nothing this time, looking back at his captive with an uncertain expression.
“Let him go,” his friend hissed, and the youth reluctantly dropped Colin, stepping back and straightening his jacket in a failed attempt at nonchalance.