BOOK 3 of The Ostler's Boy Series
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Love. Duty. Valor.
Court & Class.
A pseudo-medieval romance through the eyes of a reckless princess.
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After Svana and her Knight, there was a Princess and her love of adventure.
Eliza Rose, the wildes...
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Willough moved behind me a pace. When we got to the rack he'd insisted upon, he stood closer and thumbed through the swatches of coppers and gold.
"Is there a reason you shoved me?" I asked.
"Shoved?" He laughed at that. "I encouraged you to leave. You wanted to leave, didn't you?"
I rolled my eyes. "What are you looking for?"
"My Jocelyn has a birthday soon," he said. "Would you wear this one yourself?" He held a shiny satchel up to my eyes.
"Yes." I frowned, replacing it with something else. "But Miss Josie likes purple," I said.
"She has many purple bags," he told me. "What if she has them all?"
"She doesn't," I sang. I dug through the lot to find another, a lighter lavender hue. "And she doesn't have this one either. Or this," I added to it. "And now you have options."
"Do you want something for yourself?" he asked.
"Fine, you didn't shove me, but you did shoo me off like cattle," I said. "It was embarrassing. Honestly, Willough."
"Did I shoo you?" he asked.
"Yes. From Mr. Henrik. You shooed me away from him like a mangy cat. Does he not like me?" I asked. "Did he ask you not to–"
"No." Willough's brows danced. "No, that's not the case." He checked over his shoulder. "Were you not trying to lose His Highness, anyway?" he asked.
"I mean," I stopped. "I suppose nothing gets by you. So, perhaps?"
"It's not as though you're subtle," he said. "You're about as subtle as a rock to the face."
"I beg your pardon, Knight," I said.
"Am I not serving your needs, Princess?" he asked. "You wanted to ditch your brother; we ditched him. Now he is preoccupied, and you can shop in peace so long as you help me find a bag."
"So he does hate me?" I checked. "Is it because I'm loud?"
"No," he said.
"Then is it–"
"Mr. Henrik does not hate you, Eliza," he said. "He likes your brother. And your brother likes him."
"I know that; they're friends," I said.
He chuckled. "Aye."
"They've been friends since– Wait."
"I've nothing but time," he muttered.
"Are you...?" I leaned in. "Are you suggesting Will is in love with Mr. Henrik?" I asked. "Did he say that?"
Willoughby hushed me. "It's not confirmed. Just a feeling I have."
