was in her best “Princess mode,” the men knew better than to take liberties. She was obviously trying to impress the young healer, so for the time being, etiquette and proper procedure would need to be followed to the letter. They all knew she’d be her old self at the next weapons practice.
Thirrin sighed. These men were soldiers and stable hands; she couldn’t expect the polished skills of Palace Chamberlains. She nodded imperiously, and the man withdrew to the other side of the fire where the others were eating noisily. She gingerly tasted the stew. It was surprisingly rich, being seasoned with herbs and spices Thirrin couldn’t identify, and the bread was as good as anything produced by the palace kitchens. After a while she looked up to see Oskan walking over to join her. She was surprised and annoyed. As the Crown Princess, she’d expected to be left in dignified solitude by this stranger while she ate. Not only that, but now she’d have to make conversation, and she wasn’t sure she could do so without blushing. Put her in any situation that was even vaguely new and personal and she was lost; her pale, almost translucent, skin and auburn hair seemed to signal everything she was feeling. She might raise her chin in proud disdain and even curl her lip in an emergency, but nobody was likely to be fooled if she glowed the color of a midsummer sunset.
Oskan sat down on the low stool next to hers without even pretending to wait for permission. “Is the stew all right?” he asked, as if he were talking to one of the soldiers.
“Adequate,” Thirrin answered with cold dignity.
He nodded as though not surprised by her answer. “I suppose the palace kitchens must produce a feast every day.”
Thirrin decided he was too much of a yokel to realize he was being familiar and said, “Not every day. But they certainly produce the best food in the Icemark.”
He nodded again. “Naturally.”
She looked at him sharply, wondering if he was being sarcastic, but she saw only accepting innocence. “The men said you’re the son of White Annis, the witch. Where is she? Even women with the Power should show respect to the Heir of the Icemark.”
He glanced at her oddly before answering. “That’s true, but not even Princess Thirrin Freer Strong-in-the-Arm Lindenshield can command the presence of the dead. They tend to be deaf to demands for respect.”
“Oh!” she said, blushing to a deeper level of crimson than she’d ever managed before. “I didn’t know.”
Oskan chewed and swallowed before answering. “That’s all right. I know you didn’t mean to be rude.”
Thirrin was incensed. Rude! She thought it was probably impossible for royalty to be rude. They said what they felt and the rest of society had to accept it. But secretly she was angry with herself; deep down she didn’t want to offend this strange boy who’d given them shelter from the storm, treated her injured stable hand, and now fed them from his own pot. As her father was always telling her, royalty had a duty to those of society who were lesser than they. It should be beneath her dignity to show anger to a peasant, and it certainly should be beneath her to feel embarrassment.
“When did she die?” she asked, determinedly ignoring her flaming face and showing a proper aloof interest in the troubles of someone who would one day be her subject.
“Two years ago.”
“And you’ve lived alone all that time?”
He shrugged. “It wasn’t difficult. My mother knew she was dying and taught me all I needed to know before the end.”
“What sort of healer couldn’t heal herself?” The words were out before she knew she was going to say them, and her toes curled.
Oskan looked at her in a long silence that almost had her squirming, but then at last he said, “Only the Goddess can cure all disease.”
Thirrin felt that she’d been slapped down, but his voice and tone had remained level, and even now he only quietly mopped his bowl with bread and showed no sign of anger.
After that, Thirrin gave up trying to behave like a princess and just sat in what she hoped was dignified silence while the men ate a second bowl of stew and the rain continued to slice through the canopy of the forest outside like liquid blades. Afterward Oskan gathered up the bowls and stacked them neatly on a table.
“It’ll soon be dark,” he said. “You may have to stay