had given him and finally looked it over.
A handsome piece, brilliant gold and set with a beautiful blue hawk's eye in an oval cut. It was a mark of the Order of the Osprey, a private circle of advisors and protectors founded by Her Highness and funded solely by her. Even her father had nothing to do with it. Membership to the order was secretive, and little was known about it outside its very close circle. So far as he knew, only nine others wore the rings, including Her Highness.
He tucked it away again, shifting his thoughts to more mundane matters as the dull journey carried on.
Sleet began to fall as the city came into view, and he hurried the horse as much as he dared. By the time he reached the inn, he was frozen and cranky. Handing off his horse to an equally miserable looking stable hand, he hastened into the building, where he gladly stripped out of his soaked outer wear and dumped it off on a woman who looked mollified by the coins he handed her for the trouble.
In the dining hall, more coins got him plenty of hot food and warm ale, along with a glass of whiskey to get the warming-up process started briskly. He drank that down in a smooth swallow, then set to work on the bread, venison, and beans set before him.
He hadn't been there long when the girl he'd hired stepped into the room, probably not the first time she'd checked to see if he was there, without sitting around forever with a bunch of packages drawing attention.
Lifting a hand to catch her eye, he beckoned her over and called for a drink. "Thank you. I hope you finished before this awful weather started."
"I did, thank you, my lord." She handed him a small package, the kind that generally came from a healer, containing a powder or bottled tincture. Inside, however, would be a key to a private room where his goods were being safely stored.
He took the package and tucked it away. "Staying here to avoid the weather or did you want to head home?"
"Best be getting home. There's lots of extra baking to be done for the frost fair, and I'll be needed."
"Let me finish my meal and secure my purchases, and I'll give you a ride home. We'll still be miserable, but we'll get there faster."
"I'd be grateful, my lord. Thank you."
He called for more ale for them both and additional food, which she seemed surprised and delighted by. A gamble on his part, but he'd rarely seen anyone who wasn't glad to have more food, especially in winter.
An hour or so later, they were on their way, his cloak big enough to bundle both of them up fairly well, which was good, because hers was decent but not great. The trip to the castle was wretched and took longer than usual, but thankfully was still faster than attempting to walk ever would have been. When they arrived, he sent her bustled off with his cloak while he hastened on to his rooms shivering to death.
Someone had been thoughtful enough to see his room was nice and toasty, the crackling fire the best sound he'd heard all day. They'd hung his dressing robe near it, and he gladly abandoned his wet, icy clothes in favor of dry ones, shrugging into the robe with a groan.
Food was set out, a small plate of pies, cheese, and fruit that would keep if he didn't eat it immediately. Sitting in his chair, he stretched out his legs to thaw his poor feet and sipped at a glass of brandy. He set the ring Korena had given him next to the tray of food, then rested his head against the back of the chair and closed his eyes.
A few minutes later, he was stirred from a light doze by a rapping on his door and called for the knocker to enter. Two men bustled in carrying his packages. When they'd settled them on his trunks as directed, he beckoned them over and gave each a couple of coins. "Thank you."
"Milord," they chorused, and bowed before slipping back out of the room.
Left alone again, he worked slowly on the food and a second glass of brandy, worrying the ring the whole while.
Could he do it? For all he was used to wielding some measure of royal authority when he was abroad, it was something else entirely to think that someday he might