Page 17 of Once Upon an Enchanted Kiss

“No need to take care of my horse.” He approached the stall and reached for the reins, leading the horse out.

“I thought you were leaving in the morning?” the boy asked.

“Change of plans.” He flashed a bright smile. “Tell the others in the morning I rode on ahead.”

“Of course, your highness.”

Phillip mounted and trotted out of the stable. He had no destination in mind. Only that he knew he had to escape.

When he was through the portcullis, he kicked the horse into a gallop. He suspected his freedom wouldn’t last long, but he was going to enjoy it while he could.

Chapter 8

ExhaustionsettledintoRosamund’sbones as she gripped the reins. She held on tight, trying hard not to nod off in the saddle. She’d rode all night and was desperate for rest but knew if she stopped this soon, it would increase her chances of being found.

She thought of her parents and wondered if her absence was discovered yet. As the sun lifted and broke the horizon, it seemed reasonable to think they would find her gone by now. It wasn’t long before she approached the village, Briar Hill. It was the closest one to the castle.

People were just beginning to open their shops as she entered through the village gates. It was still early. Somewhere in the distance, a rooster crowed and a dog barked. She paused, still on horseback, as she took in the surroundings.

Shops lined the main thoroughfare with everything from a baker to a butcher to a candlestick maker. At the end of the street was an inn with a tavern. Next to that was a clothing shop. Beyond that, rows of houses for the villagers. She glanced down at her gown and wondered if there was some way to acquire different clothes. Perhaps something more suitable and not befitting a princess. She needed to blend in, after all.

Unfortunately, she had no money. She didn’t want to give up her identity to the clothing shop owner and promise payment when she had no intention of returning to her father to ask for gold.

At the very least, she needed to get out of the saddle and rest before continuing. She pulled to a halt outside the tavern and dismounted. She tied up her horse and peered up at the swaying dilapidated sign boasting the nameThe Sleeping Dragon Innin faded green letters.

She pushed through the door and entered.

On one side of the large room was a fireplace. The hearth was dark and cold. On the other, a bar lined with tall stools. Scattered throughout the room were more tables and chairs. No one was about. The place was deserted.

That was fine by her. She took a seat near the cold hearth, grateful to be at rest and not riding.

A woman bustled from the back room humming a nameless tune carrying a large stack of firewood. She headed for the fireplace. Rosamund sat up straighter in her chair as the woman approached. She dropped the firewood by the hearth. She hadn’t noticed Rosamund was there at all.

She watched the woman for a long moment as she stacked the firewood on the log rack, still humming. Rosamund thought she better make her presence known and cleared her throat loudly. The woman jumped and emitted a high-pitched squeak.

“Hello,” Rosamund said.

She placed a hand over her chest and closed her eyes, inhaling deeply and then exhaling. “You gave me a fright! I dinna know anyone was here.”

“I’m sorry,” she said. “I didn’t mean to scare you.”

She resumed her task of building a fire. “Breakfast isn’t ready yet but will be in a bit.” When the fire started, she brushed the dirt from her hands and rose, turning to her. She placed her hands on her hips. “What can I fetch you?”

“Oh,” she breathed, and shifted in her seat. “Nothing. I…don’t have any money to pay. I just wanted to come in for a rest.”

The woman peered at her, her stern eyes examining her closely. “A rest, you say?”

“I’ve been traveling all night.”

“Hmm,” was her only response. She bustled away, disappearing once more in the back room.

Rosamund rested her back on the chair and watched as the fire took off, the flames increasing ever so slightly. The woman returned with a tray and paused at her table. She placed the tray in front of her that had a bowl of porridge, a spoon, and a tankard of mead. Rosamund stared at it then up at the woman.

“But—”

“On the house,” she said and then gave her a faint smile. “You look exhausted. Eat. Get your strength. Dinna worry about paying.”

“I can’t do that,” she said.

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