Page 30 of Rise of the Vicious Princess

She wasn’t going to argue with that.

“May I have a word, Your Highness?”

“If you can talk while packing.” She moved toward her closet, making a mental list of everything she needed to bring. It would be a simple matter to ring for Mrs. Sykes to do the packing for her, but Charis would rather not discover another old-fashioned, dirt-colored dress as her only option for the morning.

“Your Highness.” Tal’s voice was firm.

Charis turned to find him still standing just in front of the closed bedroom door, something burning in his eyes. “What is it?”

He opened his mouth. Closed it. Took a deep breath as if to speak and then stood in silence looking miserable.

She frowned. “Are you ill?”

He shook his head. “No, Your Highness. I’m sick over the atrocity at Irridusk. I’m . . . I don’t have words for how I feel about that. But that isn’t what I wanted to say to you.”

“Well?”

He hesitated, and then finally said quietly, “Thank you.”

Her frown deepened. “For what?”

“For defending me to Reuben this morning. You didn’t have to, and I’m grateful. I . . . You surprised me.”

“Why would that surprise you?”

He paused again, and then said carefully, “Because I thought you were like your mother, but it turns out there’s a lot of your father in you as well.”

Warmth spread through her, tugging her lips upward in a shy smile. What was she supposed to say to that? Turning away before he could read her expression, she reached for a small travel chest. “We meet at the stables in less than an hour. Better get packing.”

By midafternoon, the trunks and supplies were loaded onto luggage racks, and Charis had divided up the group—Lady Channing and her staff in one carriage, Lord Everly and his in another, and Charis with the Farragin twins and Tal in the third. Six royal guards were mounted on horses to ride on either side of the carriages for safety.

As she approached her carriage, the groom responsible for riding on the back of the vehicle and caring for the horses on their journey saw her and instantly bowed, a bag of currying tools in his hands. He looked about her age, with a mop of dark hair, freckled skin, and brown eyes.

“Your Highness, I will be caring for the horses, but if there’s anything I can do for you, please let me know.” His dark eyes skipped from her face to Tal’s, and he nodded to her bodyguard as well.

“Thanks, Grim,” Tal said. When Charis gave him a look of surprise, Tal grinned. “Grimson and I started here at the palace around the same time. We’re friends now. We play a few rounds of roshinball when we have spare afternoons.”

“Not lately, though,” Grim said. “Figured he got tired of me winning.”

Tal snorted. “Tired of letting you win, more like.”

“Your Highness.” Nalani bowed and then said, “I’ve added a wagon to the procession, if that’s all right with you.”

Charis turned to find a sleek merchant’s wagon in glossy black with a matching black tarp covering a stack of chests three high and five deep. “What is this?”

“Medical supplies, though not nearly as many as I would’ve liked. Until we get another shipment from Rullenvor, those are hard to come by. Blankets. Food.” Nalani frowned. “I wanted to include building materials in case any of the structures need repair, but I couldn’t fit it on.”

“The camp is well stocked with building materials.” Charis smiled at Nalani. “This is very thoughtful of you. Now let’s get going.”

She entered the carriage, followed by Holland, Nalani, and then Tal. They’d settled in seats with the twins facing Charis and Tal, when the carriage door swung open, and Ferris Everly stepped in.

“Ugh, why are you here?” Holland asked.

Ferris sniffed and ignored Holland. Inclining his head toward Charis, he said, “Your Highness.”

“Ferris, we’re about to leave, so I’m afraid I can’t give you much of my time.” And thank the seers she had that excuse, because spending more than a few minutes in Ferris’s presence always made her want to hit something. Preferably him.

“Of course, Charis,” he said in his smooth, ingratiating voice. “I simply thought it best that I ride in your carriage rather than in Father’s.”

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