“You’re doing excellently,” he said.
“I’m a fast learner.” I laughed up at him, telling myself I was flushed from the exertion not his nearness.
He grinned and swung me through a more complicated maneuver, finishing with a flourish as the song ended. All around us the cry went up for more, and the musicians launched straight into another dance tune. I wondered briefly if dancers were required to find new partners for every dance, but Philip’s grip didn’t loosen. I let him pull me into a new rhythm, losing myself in the moment.
But when that song ended, a laughing maid stole him away. He gave me an apologetic grimace as he was carried off through the crowd, and I laughed and gestured for him to go. With the connection of our hands broken, however, my reckless good humor abated. I had utterly failed at my previous night’s resolution, and I no longer felt in the mood for dancing.
Slipping through the crowd, I escaped the room, pausing a short way down the dark corridor. Music and merriment spilled out of the dining hall, echoing through the empty space. Already I felt cut off from it, utterly alone. For all my dreams of belonging, this wasn’t truly my home, and Philip wasn’t my future. I stood there for an unknown length of time, my thoughts and emotions too chaotic to arrange themselves into neat sentences, even in my mind.
“Elle? Is that you?” a voice asked, breaking the solitude.
I started and peered into the dimly lit hallway. “Damon? What are you doing down here?”
He stepped up beside me, a smile on his face. “I heard a great commotion and came down to see if the kitchens had caught fire. But it seems there was a happier reason for the noise.”
I managed a smile despite the great weariness that had claimed me. “There is flour again, you see. And that is a definite cause for celebration.”
Damon chuckled. “I did not expect my meager efforts to be quite so warmly appreciated.”
I looked up at him. “Your efforts?”
“I asked the king this morning if I could be of any assistance, given everything going on.” He shook his head with a rueful smile. “I must admit I was picturing something that involved riding a horse and carrying a sword. But he said if I wanted to help, I could make sure the palace was restocked with flour by sundown.”
“So they didn’t find the viscount’s missing shipment,” I murmured.
He gave me a slightly bemused look but didn’t question my knowledge.
“No, I’m afraid not. It’s entirely disappeared. But after a day spent in the merchants’ district, I was able to put my sword and my men to some small use by guarding the wagon as it was loaded with sacks of flour and driven direct to the royal kitchens.”
“There you go,” I said with a grin. “Some small glory and action for you after all.”
“Alas!” He chuckled. “We were not besieged by villainous thieves. It was an entirely uneventful journey.”
“Oh well.” I patted his arm in a comforting way. “There is always next time.”
He looked down at my hand. “That’s a very catchy tune they’re playing. But I suppose my new rank precludes me from joining such merriment now.”
He sounded sad, but I couldn’t deny it.
“Unfortunately you would only ruin their fun by going in.” An image of Philip, laughing in the middle of the dancers, filled my mind, making my eyes sting with unshed tears. Philip was right. For all the privileges of a royal life, there were limitations, too.
“It’s hard to resist dancing to it, even out here,” Damon said, the invitation in his words and face unmistakable.
But fatigue still pulled at me, and I couldn’t face accepting.
“It’s a lively tune, indeed. But I’m afraid I, for one, hear the siren call of sleep more strongly.” My two disturbed nights in a row were catching up with me.
Damon instantly stepped back and gave a small bow.
“Then, please, don’t let me keep you from your bed.”
I smiled at him gratefully. “Thank you for the flour.”
“You are more than welcome, I can assure you,” he said, as if he had gone and fetched it just for me.
I shook my head at the fanciful notion, no doubt produced by lack of sleep, and hurried off to my room with a farewell wave. And this time, when my head hit the pillow, my body overwhelmed my mind and carried me straight into sleep.
The next morning I turned up at the goose pen before Colin, not wanting to be late yet again. He grunted a sour greeting at me when he arrived, but since he also glared at the geese, his staff, and the sun in the sky, I decided I wasn’t the cause of his ire. Most likely he had stayed up far too late at the unplanned celebration.
For a brief moment I was tempted to ask him how late Philip had stayed and who he had danced with, but I managed to refrain. Philip was free to dance as late as he liked and with whatever partners he chose.
When we reached a suitable grazing position, the boy promptly lay down flat on his back and put his beloved hat over his eyes. Within minutes, his snores competed with the rustling and honks of the geese. I stared at him in utter bemusement, trying to remember if I had been able to sleep as easily at his age.
When he awoke an hour later, he bounded up, once more full of energy, and began to chatter about the treats the cook had promised she would make with the newly arrived flour. Since none of these treats were before us now, it was a rather painful topic of conversation, and when I spotted someone approaching across the grass, I leaped up, glad of the diversion. I had expected Philip, but as the man drew closer, I realized it was Damon.
I told Colin I’d be back soon and hurried to meet the prince.
“Elle! I was hoping I would find you,” he said as soon as I reached him.
“You’re not needed to fetch more vital supplies?” I asked with a smile.
“It’s funny you should mention that…” He looked uncomfortable.
“Oh no!” I cried. “Please don’t tell me we’re out of sugar now. I’ve just spent the last hour listening to all the desserts the cook has promised to make for tonight. I could not bear the disappointment.”
He chuckled. “No, indeed, your sweets are safe. It just seems I proved myself overly helpful yesterday.” He gave me a mock stern look. “Which should be a lesson to us all to underperform whenever possible.”
I rolled my eyes. “You’re not fooling me. You don’t seem the type to have ever underperformed in your life. But do tell me what new task you’ve been given.”
“It’s a little more than a single task, I’m afraid.” He took a deep breath. “King Henry has declared the role of Lord Chamberlain must be filled as soon as possible, and apparently being a close relation qualifies me for the honor.”
I clapped my hands. “Congratulations! And it is not only because of being the king’s nephew. You’ve also showed yourself capable. The king must have been testing you yesterday, and you passed.”
“Thank you.” He shook his head. “I would no doubt be lapping up the congratulations and basking in my new importance if the king hadn’t seen fit to warn me exactly what sort of task I’m facing.”
My eyes widened as I remembered the viscount’s dining room.