Valmond was still rubbing sleep from his eyes when Alicia burst into the ledger room. She had practiced until her candles were nearly burnt away how she would get him to let her wake the prince. Even while she tried on the different dresses in the Baroness's drawing room to make sure they were all fitted properly, like she always did, she went over the words in her head, forming them together as fluidly and sternly as any lady of a noble house should.

  She wanted an explanation, an apology, or even a slight indication of his acknowledgement as to how much work he had caused with his temper tantrum would be enough. But to let even a royal get away with causing such a mess? No, not on Alicia’s watch.

  Her entire trip through the servant passages and corridors to the ledger room, she practiced, rehearsed, what the conversation would be. ‘You will let me wake the Prince this morning,’ She would say. ‘No,’ he’ll answer, ‘that is my duty and I will always do my duty for the House of Strasse. This is a very important thing which I have been blah blah blah.’

  ‘Well,’ she’ll say, ‘It is my duty to inform that barbarian that we are not his slaves and that he cannot and will not treat us as such. He can clean his own messes after this!’

  And he’ll huff and look down at her through those glasses and shake his head. Stand firm, as he always does, with his laurels. How hard would he stand against her if she offers to give him an entire weekend off while she covers his duties? Not very hard, she suspected.

  Valmond blinked at her, confused. She was earlier than usual. Does he come here to wake up or is this where he sleeps? She had expected to have a few minutes to practice before he came in and she could ambush him. Instead, there he was, visibly half asleep, regarding her as if she were a mouse who had decided to nonchalantly drink from his coffee.

  “What are you…?”

  “You will let me wake the Prince this morning,” she braced.

  “Alright,” Valmond shrugged and went back to thumbing the ledger. “I’ll wake the Baron and Baroness, then.”

  Alicia fumed. He knows precisely how important it is for her to have a chance to state her determination into words. Damn him for stealing that away. Through gritted teeth, she said, “Good. It is my duty to inform that barba…”

  “Yes, yes,” Valmond turned from her and lifted his brocaded and tailed coat from the hook behind the door. “Be sure to have his majesty’s bath and garments prepared. The Baron will want to soften his temper today with some pampering. Give him a taste of what a royal should receive by his most loyal servant.” He stopped in the open doorway and turned back to her as if he had just remembered something, “Not that the Baron would ever do such a thing if left to him. That is our shared duty, now.”

  As he went down the hall, pulling his coat over his shoulders, he lifted his face as if saying aloud to himself, “Hate to find out what the Prince is capable of when he’s on his feet. We must do what is necessary for the survival of our House.”

  Alicia cursed at him. All night and he just gave up his duty like that? What a prick! Well, she would say all she means to say directly to the Prince’s smug face herself! She had to concentrate not to run down the halls to the royal bedroom. Over and over, she thought about how she would show that man what’s what. The low folk would call it ‘a good thumping’ that she planned to give this Prince Dietrich. She barely got a glimpse of him, but any man who flips a table that had been set and prepared so meticulously for them is a motherless distasteful selfish self-centered brute scoundrel with no appreciation for the people who serve him.

  The guard at the door leapt from his chair and clicked his heels. She raised a brow. Even his guards are incompetent. She tossed a cloth for him to wipe drool from his unkempt stubble. Even his cuirass and sword were tarnished. The man looked like a common footman, not a royal guard! She scoffed at him and threw open the doors.

  “Good morrow, your majesty,” she crossed the room, stomping loudly, and threw open the curtains so the sun shown directly on his…pillow.

  “No…” she let out a long breath.

  Not again! The world itself is against her! All she asked was for the chance to give the Prince a piece of her mind. Instead, she found herself staring at an empty bed that hadn’t a single wrinkle from being sat on.

  She stomped out to the guard. “Where is the Prince?”

  The man shook his head, wincing. “He made me promise not to tell.”

  Her eyes became wide saucers. “What? He absconds even his most basic duties? What kind of a Prince is he?”

  The man nodded at her. “Ah, now I understand.”

  Alicia wanted to kick him. Tear him limb for limb. She stepped into him with glaring eyes and a finger jabbing into his chest, which happened to be level with her forehead. “You’re going to tell me where your Prince is or I will have your hide the way your MOTHER SHOULD HAVE WHEN YOU WERE A SMALL BOY!”

  The man raised a brow. “Now why would you say that? I’ve done nothing but what I was told to since I came here. I’m not beholden to you. He wants me to stand here and here I stand. You want more, you should go and ask him.”

  Did you know this story is from Royal Road? Read the official version for free and support the author.

  “Go…WHERE?” Alicia bounced with fingers curled to claws. She wanted to tear her hair out. When the guard shrugged at her, she wanted to tear his hair out.

  Draka woke to the hooves of a horse being led back to its stable. Vigora had her foreleg resting over his shoulder and her nose nestled into the top of his head. Her breath fluttered his long hair and made her ribcage press against his bare back. He watched the other horse’s hooves move past his stall door. Blinking and yawning away the sleep had caused him to miss the feet of who was leading it.

  Vigora felt him stir and lifted her leg from over him so he could rise. Draka rubbed between her pale blue eyes with a grin.

  The softness of the bed in the room they brought him to made his back twist, neck start to crick, and his arms yearn to stretch. He had Karl help him remake the bed before heading down to Vigora’s stall. All he wanted was to have a good night’s sleep without being woken before the sun was. Maud always woke him just before the sun’s actual rise and, for once, he didn’t have to worry about her or anyone else waking him before he intended to wake up.

  He twisted onto his knees and prayed. ‘Lord God Almighty, who lifted your people out of slavery from Egypt, who raised David to be king of Israel, who gave us Your only begotten Son who lived, suffered, and died on the cross for our sins, thank you for the blessings You have given those whom are all around me, for giving Maud the strength to not lose herself in grief, for allowing Aurie to still live. Please keep them safe and in good health, by Your Will, help them to see Thy light and know Thy Grace. In the name of Jesus Christ, our Lord, Amen.’

  Another stall door thumped shut. Draka brushed hay from his shoulders and back. He grabbed his shirt from where he had tossed it over his sword and belt. He whipped it a few times to get the hay off of it.

  “Hello?” A woman called. There was a sound like wood being scraped by something harder.

  Draka looked to the sky. Every moment, he is being tested. The Holy Spirit may not have abandoned him, but It certainly intended to test him at every turn. He belted his sword. Vigora awkwardly pushed herself up onto her hooves.

  The woman was just outside his stall. “Whoever you are, you shouldn’t be here. If you let me go, I will count to twenty before I call the guards to give you a chance to get away. But only if you let me go.”

  Vigora looked at Draka with her ears cocked curiously. Draka shrugged. What was he supposed to do? He’d wait, that’s what. Vigora rubbed her hoof disapprovingly. He shook his head at her. No need for anyone to know he was here. Especially whoever that was. The last thing he needed was to be thrown into a dungeon because the guards can’t read.

  “Okay,” the woman called, edging closer. “I’m going to run out now. If you go the other way, you’ll find the kitchen stocks. Take what you need on your way. I know if you can’t afford a room at the inn, you’re probably hungry too.”

  “Who are you talking to?” Another woman whispered.

  Draka rubbed Vigora to set her hind hoof back down. No need to kick the stall open, they weren’t being threatened, really. He just needed to wait.

  “There’s someone in that stall,” the first whispered back.

  “The one with the white horse?”

  “Yes. He sounds big.”

  “He’s not as big as he sounds,” the disdain in the second woman’s voice was far too familiar. Reminded him of how Aurelie used to talk about him when she thought he couldn’t hear. “Your Majesty, I have a bath waiting.”

  Draka knocked his head on the stall wall. Vigora’s stare looked disappointed in him. He let out a long breath and opened the stall door. Alicia glared at him from the front entrance and another woman, around Maud’s age, in a riding dress with long curls of red hair and a pitchfork aimed at him like a spear, was gaping from the other end.

  Alicia bowed, “His Majesty Grande Prince Dietrich, Miss Lisbeth Strasse, the Baron’s firstborn daughter.”

  Draka looked over his shoulder at the redhead. She, like Alicia, bowed a curtsy. Unlike Alicia, she didn’t lower her eyes from looking into his. He flapped his fingers for Alicia to rise while maintaining eye contact with Lisbeth.

  “Pleasure to meet you, your Grace,” Lisbeth’s voice softened.

  He couldn’t tell if she liked what she was looking at or not. His guess was as good as any. He just hoped she didn’t think of him as an eligible bachelor. That was the last thing he needed here.

  Under her breath, “Cat got your tongue?”

  Draka gave a slight bow and turned to face Alicia. At least her, he knew exactly what she was thinking about him. She didn’t have to say it. She hated him. Draka raised a brow at her, gave Lisbeth another slight bow, and went back into the stall, shutting the wooden door behind him.

  “What?” Alicia shrieked. “Your bath will get cold, your majesty!”

  Draka lifted the feed bag for Vigora. He knew they were watching him. He felt their eyes on him as he fed and rubbed Vigora. He took a fleeting glance at them as he tended to brushing Vigora while she ate. Head Mistress Alicia was dumbfounded, possibly furious, because something she had expected of him had just been disproven. Lisbeth looked pleasantly surprised as she watched.

  “You should hurry before I change my mind and tell your mother where you’ve been,” Alicia whispered to Lisbeth. Then, louder and to Draka, “Our Stableman will tend to her, I assure you. Now, if you will, Majesty, the water in the bath is getting cold.”

  Draka shook his head at her and continued brushing Vigora. When Alicia huffed and opened the stall door to stamp her way to him, he decided not to test her mettle. He rubbed his cheek against Vigora’s while scratching the nape of her neck as a goodbye.

  As he followed her back into the palace, Alicia kept her hands folded in front of her and her chin held high. It wasn’t until she opened the door to his room that she finally turned to him and said, “Will His Majesty prefer to eat breakfast on the table or the floor like last night?”

  Draka narrowed his eyes at her beneath a crinkled brow. Oh, Draka realized, that’s why she’s angry.

  “Point if you must, that way we have it to your liking when the meal is served.”

  Draka grinned with a wink and shut her from his room. He could hear her gasp through the door. At the far end of the room, curtains that he thought were over windows were pulled aside to reveal a large porcelain tub billowing steam.