must prepare the finest guest room.” He walked right past her. “Everything will be perfect. I will not lose her again.” Determined as he was, there was no bounce in his step as he descended the stairs.
“Does it tell who she is? Will her family travel with her?” Marissa asked, but Robert walked past. His mutterings sounded like gibberish. What had happened? She searched the parapet and noticed a small note fluttering in the wind. With a gasp, she attempted to catch it before it could blow away. A large bird hit her in the shoulder. Screaming, Marissa grabbed the stone wall, the force of the bird causing her to lose her balance. Fear rolled through her as she glanced the ground a long distance straight down. She removed herself from the edge. The bird had disappeared. She ran to the loft, but it was empty. She shivered when she saw a black feather drift through the air to land at her feet. She hurried from the roof.
Time slowed. Hours of the day dragged. Marissa tried continuing her inventory of the attic, but a large shadow with wings crossing the window sent her to the lower floors. The large man in the cubicle watched her with tired eyes every time she crossed his path. The new serving wench touching her arm with ice cold fingers caused her to jump, spilling wine on the tablecloth. Lady DeGanne lifted a brow as Marissa slipped her hands into her lap. It wasn’t until she touched the silver necklace from her father did the chill to her flesh warm.
Robert had his usual seat at the table. Marissa glanced at him. He remained pale, smudges beneath his eyes revealing troubled sleep. He focused on his food, not bothering to talk. Fiddlesticks. Marissa tried to enjoy her roast, but the meat lacked flavor. She pushed a potato across her plate before straightening. “Robert, come riding with me tomorrow.” He ignored her. The urge to flick her fork across the table had to be tapped down. “Robert.”
“Marissa speaks to you, son.” King William tapped his shoulder.
Robert turned toward his father. “What?”
Marissa cleared her throat. “Ride with me tomorrow. It is still a few days before Cinderella will arrive.” What food she’d managed to eat churned in her belly. “We can discuss her room, decide which prospect suits her.”
“She must have the best.”
“Of course. That is why I thought we could exercise the horses and talk.” Marissa caught her mother’s beaming smile from the corner of her eye. She turned her head to dismiss the view.
He nodded, then finished his meal in silence.
Midmorning, Marissa hesitated at the far end of the hallway. Richard straightened at his post as Abigail approached. What was she doing here? “Abigail?” Marissa called, stepping closer. The girl’s dark eyes chilled Marissa, but she swallowed and gave a tight smile. “I left my riding gloves with Mrs. Haverty to mend a hole. Get them for me, please.”
For a moment, Abigail’s stiff posture and unwavering glare made Marissa want to wrap her arms around herself for protection. A vein in Richard’s temple throbbed, but then Abigail turned away from them. His shoulders drooped. “Be careful, Miss Marissa.” His voice sounded deep.
She took a step back. “Of what do you refer?”
But he returned to his post. She slipped past, keeping as much distance as she could. Once in the warm morning light, she turned back toward Richard. “If you don’t see Prince Robert within the next moments, please fetch him. Remind him his promise to go riding with me.”
The servant nodded. “Will you meet him at the stables?”
She nodded and turned away. The cool stable with soft light projecting through the slatted roof smelled of horse. The first waft of its stench caused Marissa to press a finger against her nose.
“Never get used to it, do you?” Robert jumped from his seat on a stall door and landed his booted feet in the hay.
“Thought we’d have to drag you from your quarters.”
His lips moved in a ghost of a smile. “Sleep has been elusive.”
“Fresh air will do us well.” Marissa crossed to Soliloquy’s stall. “Do you have your beast ready? Will only take a moment for me.”
“His name is Chancellor.”
Marissa swallowed the urge to giggle at their familiar scamp. “Pray he has wisdom to offer.”
Chancellor was a tall, thick horse from the north with black glossy hair that moved like smooth waves onto a gentle shore. Prince Robert led him from the stall as Marissa cinched