still full of energy.”
Marissa couldn’t contain a mischievous smile. “I continue to fail to sit and wait as a proper lady ought. There is always a more interesting plot to perpetrate.”
“Not here, Marissa DeGanne. There is no way to know what trouble is afoot.”
“I will do my best to resist all adventure.” Marissa frowned, pressed the back of a hand to her forehead, and gave a dramatic sigh.
Mrs. Boyde laughed. “I am here to prevent adventures and mishaps. Our goal is to learn the truth of Cinderella and act accordingly.”
Marissa grimaced and said no more.
34
The carriage rumble changed pitch as the vehicle turned onto a graveled courtyard. “Where are we?” Marissa asked as she turned her gaze from Mrs. Boyde to the darkening window.
“I surmise we have arrived at the Crescent Inn.”
Marissa reached for the door handle, but Mrs. Boyde pulled her back. She sighed and rolled her eyes as the handle twisted from the outside.
“We’ve arrived at the inn, my lady.”
Marissa looked around but didn’t see her mother. She could feel heat coloring her cheeks as the lanky livery servant watched her. “Yes, of course. Thank you,” she muttered as she accepted his assistance to disembark the carriage. She heard Mrs. Boyde plod down after her, but her attention focused on the crowded activity across the yard. Within the palace walls, she had seen soldiers and workers, but here a mix of stations mingled. Voices raised above the noise of animals filled the air with a buzz of energy. Marissa felt the hairs on her arms tingling.
The young servant clacked his heels together. “The captain has ordered you a private sitting room, my lady.”
Marissa dragged her attention from the bursts of color and peals of laughter and allowed Mrs. Boyde to guide her across the yard. She side-stepped globs of manure and turned her head from their heavy smell of decay. A burly chap, with an ugly scar cut through his right cheek, eyed her, causing her to stumble across an uneven patch of ground. More eyes seemed to fix upon them as they made their way into the inn. Its sign swayed in a soft breeze as she stepped beneath the arched entrance.
Mrs. Boyde’s familiar arms swept her through the common room where an oversized fire blazed. The sound of dishes clanking and ironware scraping bits of meal added to the cacophony of voices. Swirls of color rushed by as she was heralded into a quiet, bland space. The captain bowed and slipped from the room, closing the door. Silence reigned within while beyond the thick wood of the door murmured the liveliness of the unfamiliar inn.
“Don’t even ask.” Mrs. Boyde raised her hand before Marissa could squeak a sound. “We’ve garnered more attention than is warranted. I would prefer not to stay, but dark roads are far more dangerous.”
Marissa flopped with a disappointed grunt into a padded armchair.
“Manners, my dear. We will enjoy a meal and then retire to the rooms the captain has procured for the night. I dare say a few nights’ rest and early starts can have us in the Belton province before the week is out.”
“Greetings, ladies. A good evening to you.” The door creaked as it opened and a round woman stepped through. Marissa offered a wide smile, drawn to the little lady with a friendly twinkle and rosy cheeks. “My husband runs the inn, and I runs the kitchen. I’m delighted to fix whatever fits your fancy.”
Marissa watched as Mrs. Boyde fell into conversation. She eyed the open door and the hub of activity beyond. Her journal, laying on the floor in the carriage, came to mind. She edged closer to the door and stole a glance across the room. Neither woman paid her heed. Just for a moment, out and in again. She slipped through the opening. Without the gaggle of soldiers, she crossed the common area with nary a turned head. She stopped a lad beneath the arch for directions to the stables. He nodded across the yard. Lanterns had been lit to stave off the night, and she could see the building across the way. She crossed the distance and entered the stables. The mingling scent of leather, horses, and hay caused her eyes to water. Wooden planks creaked beneath her feet, unsettling the quiet. Somewhere behind her, a booted footstep followed. She gazed down the long hallway of horse stalls and the open carriage area beyond. Someone continued to follow her, and she gulped. “Choices, Mars.” She