Page 46 of Of Blood & Bone: The Young Queen

Anger darkens his face again but he says nothing, and I decide to tentatively explore the other reason I kept the prince in the dark about the actions of his brother. “There was also another reason why I didn’t mention Prince Mikil and his actions… At times, Prince Ronan can become distant and he retreats into himself as if he is in great pain and torment. On occasion his mental state seems fragile, and I didn’t want to cause him any further pain or distress. Therefore, I kept my own counsel in this matter.”

He looks at me, and his blue eyes and handsome features are sharp with tension. “Has the prince told you anything of his life in recent times?” he asks, and again I feel he is really asking me something else.

I realise, despite spending increasing time in each other’s company, I know very little about the prince, and it hits me that a few times he has been evasive. I sense there is something in his recent history, something that has affected him deeply and the man before me knows what it is.

“No,” I reply. “However, I suspect something happened that has greatly affected him. Do you know what it is?”

A dark sadness clouds his face and he looks away in an obvious effort to avoid my gaze. “It is not for me to tell you this story, Queen Elinor. I’m sorry, but this is something only the prince can reveal. All I can tell you is that you are correct,something happened to him, something beyond imagining, and on the day he needed me most, I failed him.”

He looks tired and I can tell from his expression he doesn’t wish to talk any further.

“Fine. I can respect that. I will take my leave of you now so you can rest. Thank you so much for telling me more of what happened that night and agreeing to keep Prince Mikil’s involvement a secret for the time being. Rest now. I’m sure the prince will be along to see you shortly.”

“If he asks about that night I will tell him my memory currently forsakes me. That way, when you tell him, I will be able to corroborate your story and finally be truthful with him.”

I nod. “Thank you.”

He closes his eyes as I open the door to leave and an inexplicable desire to remain by his side comes over me. Instead, I walk through the door and head back to my chambers where the business of being queen awaits.

Chapter Seventeen

It’s late afternoon by the time I get to the stables and I find the prince waiting for me. He is looking more handsome than a man ought to, in a dark green outfit that turns his eyes into two glittering pieces of the darkest jade.

“Good afternoon, Queen Elinor,” he greets me. “I presume your day got off to a good start this morning?”

I can’t help smiling at his hidden reference to our time together this morning. “Good afternoon, Emissary,” I reply. “My morning was busier than I would have liked, but it got off to a splendid start, and an added bonus was finding one of your soldiers up and about when I paid him a visit.”

His face lights up with a smile and there’s no doubt Barra’s recovery has brought him great comfort. “Yes, I visited him not long after you, and even though he was tired, it was great to finally have a proper conversation with him.”

He pauses and his beautiful face is momentarily marred by a frown. “I had hoped he would have been able to tell me who caused his and Aaran’s injuries, but his memory currently fails him in this regard. The only thing he knows is what you have already told me, that they were definitely Ellerban.”

A pang of guilt shoots through me at keeping this secret from him, but there is too much at stake between us to risk him reacting badly and insisting on returning to Ellerban to kill his brother. “His physical recovery is going so well, I’m sure his mental recovery can’t be far behind,” I assure him.

“I’m sure you’re right,” he replies, “but something bothers me about the whole affair that I can’t quite put my finger on.Something’s not quite right, and I fear the more time passes the less chance I have to find out who tried to kill my men.”

I’m about to reply when there’s a commotion in the stables and all hell breaks loose with stable boys and grooms running in the direction of the far end of the stables. The prince and I rush forward to see what’s going on and witness several grooms trying to corner and placate the newest member of my stable, a high spirited Arywythian stallion. He has escaped his stall and evidently made an attempt to further escape the stables. Now he is standing his ground, his dark eyes flashing with fear and defiance, his impressive muscles flexed with restraint as he looks for an opportunity to dash past the men surrounding him.

“Whoa, that is an impressive beast,” the prince says beside me as he looks at the stallion in awe.

“Yes, he is,” I agree, “but he is a wild soul and proving most challenging even to my most experienced trainers.”

The prince steps forward and advances towards the men surrounding the stallion. “Emissary!” I call out, eager to warn him about the horse’s temper, but it’s too late and I know to distract him now would be potentially dangerous.

“Everybody step back,” he commands the grooms and stable staff. They follow his command and take a few steps back, widening the circle around the stallion. This seems to calm him a little. The prince advances towards him with an outstretched arm, all the while speaking in soft tones in a language I don’t understand. However, the effect upon the horse is immediately apparent and he visibly relaxes. The prince places his hand on the stallion’s muzzle and slowly moves closer to him, still speaking this strange language that only the horse seems to understand.

“Open the door to the paddock,” the prince commands and one of the stable boys dashes towards the large doorin the middle of the stables and throws it open. The prince moves closer to the stallion, whispers something into its ear, and gestures towards the open door. The stallion rears slightly and then spurts towards and out the open door, whereupon he proceeds to gallop around the paddock.

The prince turns to the stable manager. “I’d advise against keeping him in the darkest corners of the stables. He fears confinement. You need to keep him in the paddock for as long as possible and then in a stall with a view of it.”

The manager looks stunned but nods in agreement. “Thank you, Emissary, I will certainly follow your recommendations. Now, if you follow me, I have a horse ready for you, and the Queen’s steed also awaits her.”

Ten minutes later we leave the castle grounds by the rear gate. I’m on Maneeha and he is atop a dappled grey mare called Lia, which I find an interesting choice of horse for him as she is known for her spirited nature. There’s no sign of her more spirited side this afternoon, though, and she seems very content to convey the prince along the forest path which winds its way along the lakeshore. The sky is light blue, the air crisp and the leaves on the bushes and trees are just starting to get their winter colours.

“How did you do that with the stallion?” I ask. “And what was that language you spoke? I’ve never heard it before.”

He smiles. “We Ellerban have a special connection to the equine breed, and just like our swords are presented to us on the the day of our birth, a lock of horsehair is placed in our crib. This signifies the special bond we will have with these noble creatures for the rest of our lives. As long as an Ellerban man has a horse to ride and a sword by his side he is seen as having the two things necessary to prosper and survive.”

“And the language? Is that some secret sort of horse language?”

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