The Princess and the Bard (Royals of the Realms #1)

Chapter Nine: A Crowded Carriage Ride

The next morning Alori awoke to rapping at the door. She turned over, entangling herself in her cloak, and wiped a hand across her bleary eyes. The room was dark without the luxury of a window to let in sunlight, a fact she hadn't noticed last night.

Her head throbbed and her mouth was dry. The papery, fibrous sensation on her tongue was exceedingly unpleasant. She sat up and reached across the side table, turning on the lamp. It was early– at least, it felt that way– and she was still too tired to fiddle with her magic. She blinked back the sudden pain behind her eyes and let herself adjust to the artificial light.

There was a tall glass of water on the table. She couldn't recall if it had been there last night, but she was glad for it now.

"Are you awake, Your Highness? Your driver and footman are downstairs, inquiring after you. They say the road is safe for travel." It was the wife innkeeper, her drawling accent more pronounced than Alori remembered.

Then again, Alori's recollection of last night might have been spotty, considering how many glasses of wine she'd had.

She pushed knotted hanks of hair behind her shoulders, incidentally brushing her fingers across her neck. It made her think of Taelan and their kiss. No-- kisses. Heat rose up her spine when she remembered the piano standing sentinel across the room. Tingles danced behind her ears.

So far, it seemed like she hadn't forgotten much.

A stubborn smile tugged at her lips. Maybe Taelan would kiss her again in the coach on the way back to the Conservatory. Hadn't he said he wanted to, as soon as they were both sober?

Alori wasn't embarrassed or ashamed about what had happened. A part of her still wished Taelan had stayed longer. Not overnight, she didn't think she was ready for that yet, but she would have welcomed more kisses, and more of his cautious, thoughtful touches.

Why couldn't he have just stayed?

"I'll be right out. No need to wait," she called, forcing herself to rise from the uncomfortable, creaking bed.

What had the innkeeper said her name was again? Alori huffed to herself, embarrassed at her lack of decorum.

What kind of princess of the people couldn't remember the names of those who'd helped her?

It was Mrs. Bullocks, wasn't it? Bullet? No. Bulloti...?

Bloody hells, it was something like that.

Alori checked her reflection in the mirror hanging over the bureau. The long curls she'd spent time on yesterday morning were in limp disarray. She attempted to untangle the clumping tresses with her fingers, then recoiled and pinned several strands away from her face in a mocking semblance of her former style. It was an abysmal sight.

She couldn't very well walk out onto the streets of Ville-Tokki with Taelan, looking like she had just rolled out of bed. The rumors would be ribald enough as it was.

With a quick arcane chant, she bid the pins to unclip themselves from her hair. One by one they fell to the ground, making small metallic sounds as they landed. With another soft murmur in the old language, she whisked them up onto the side table in a neat little pile, then set to detangling and combing through her long, unruly locks.

Hamoni had once told her that men preferred a woman's hair long and loose, that it reminded them of intimate encounters. Alori blushed at the notion, pulling two thin ribbons of hair from either side of her ears toward the back of her head, using two of the pins to secure the sections in place.