Page 41 of Rise of the Vicious Princess

“It’s a wonder he can fit through a doorway while carrying such a lofty opinion of himself. And then there’s Lady Everly.” He raised a hand and pretended to fan himself while speaking in a high, simpering voice. “My sweet Ferris simply must come to your meetings and help you understand things. And take you for walks. And pick out your frocks. He has such a talent for grasping at power that isn’t his. It would be a shame not to give him what he wants.”

Charis laughed, and the burning fury within subsided to a dull ache. Tal looked closely at her, and then smiled. “Better?”

“Better.” She yawned. “But exhausted. What else do I have on my schedule this afternoon?”

“Maybe you wouldn’t be exhausted if you’d kept to your schedule yesterday instead of putting your correspondence off until late at night.”

“Maybe you should mind your own business.”

His eyes found hers and held. “You are my business.”

The dull ache within her softened. They spent the rest of the ride in companionable silence. Once they were back in the princess’s chambers, Tal told her to change into something comfortable while he arranged for the next item in her schedule. One that, apparently, didn’t require her to leave her chambers.

She took him at his word and rang for Mrs. Sykes to help her into a simple blue day dress in a light, comfortable fabric. A chambermaid lit a fire in her fireplace to ward off the afternoon chill, and Charis let her hair down, settled into a chair beside the fire, and sent Mrs. Sykes back to her other duties while she waited for Tal.

The flames were mesmerizing, and she was having trouble keeping her eyes open when Tal returned. He smiled when he saw her curled into the chair beside the fire, and there was a bold light of approval in his eyes when he took in her tumble of curls and casual dress.

“Perfect,” he said.

“What am I doing next?”

“The most important job of the day.” He set a mug on the table beside her. A ribbon of steam rose from it, and the delicious smell of hot cocoa filled the air. Then he leaned over her and deposited a sleepy, fluffy Hildy into her lap.

She frowned at the kitten, who blinked at her and began purring. “What is this?”

“It’s called relaxing. Drink the cocoa. Pet the kitten. Breathe for a few hours.”

“But don’t I have something else I need to do?” She ran an experimental hand over Hildy’s back. The purr intensified and tiny, razor-sharp claws pricked her legs as the cat began kneading.

“I’ve handled it. All you need to do is rest for a bit. Recover your equilibrium. It will make the evening much easier for you to manage, trust me.” He crouched beside her and scratched Hildy’s chin.

“But—”

“Your Highness, wouldn’t you rather use your energy for kitten petting and cocoa drinking than for arguing with me?”

She shook her head. “You’re impossible.”

“You’re welcome.”

She laughed and sipped the cocoa. It was smooth and rich and perfectly delicious. Maybe he was right. The luncheon had taken its toll. She would rest here just long enough to drink the cocoa, and then she would force herself to get up and move forward into the next responsibility on her list.

Curling deeper into the chair, she sipped her cocoa and stared into the fire, a purring kitten on her lap. Soon the flames became a distant crackle, and her head lolled against the back of the chair. Dimly, she was aware of Tal taking the mug from her fingers, draping a blanket over her, and rearranging the kitten, and then she slid peacefully into sleep.

Seventeen

THREE DAYS LATER, Charis was just finishing up her daily meeting with Darold when a note arrived that Lady Channing was downstairs requesting an audience. Charis spent another ten minutes composing a letter to General Thane, who’d been authorized the previous day to begin lighting fires on three sides of the Montevallian outpost, and then sent word to her seamstress about the dress she needed for the upcoming trade delegation ball. Once she’d tidied her desk, she rang for a page to bring Lady Channing to her private office.

“Should I send for tea?” Tal asked from his position beside the study’s door.

Charis shook her head. “I can’t spare much time for Lady Channing.”

“I wasn’t thinking of Lady Channing.” His tone was perhaps a bit more pointed than was strictly appropriate for a servant. “I was thinking you’ve pushed yourself hard all morning and barely eaten any breakfast.”

“I’ll be fine.”

He sighed.

When the door opened and both Lady Channing and Ambassador Shyrn entered, Charis rose and stepped out from behind her desk, her thoughts racing.

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