Page 11 of The Shifter's Queen

“Come on, now, my sweets. We’ve a long way to go and you’ve had a good breakfast,” Harold cheerfully called to the two mules pulling their cart.

Elizabeth lifted a weary hand to push her hair back before having to drop it back to hold onto the seat to keep herself from being tossed when the cart rolled into a deep rut. Her bottom slid on the wood seat, reminding her that she had forgotten to tie a padding to it. She would have to rectify that when they took their first break.

A sense of sorrow rushed through her as the cart slowly made its way through the human village. To her right, she could see the towers of the white castle rising above the hill and lingered on the towering structure as regret filled her.

Her father had inquired about her satchel, but she had shrugged off his question. Her satchel wasn’t the only thing she would miss, she realized. She was leaving a piece of her heart here as well.

‘Tis better. He is a shifter and I am a human, not even one of royalty.

The thought did not bring her any comfort. Her father had told her tales of shifters and humans finding love. She didn’t know if they were true or not. She liked to think they were and had fashioned many of her stories around the idea of a shifter and a human discovering a love that defied the gulf that separated them.

“I could’ve loved him,” she murmured.

“Who could you have loved, sweetheart?” her father asked.

She blinked, surprised that her thoughts had escaped her lips in an audible whisper. Her smile was strained and brief, barely a twitch of the lips, as she shook her head. The last thing she wanted was for her father to find out about her disastrous encounter yesterday.

“I was thinking of a new story is all,” she replied.

“I look forward to reading it,” her father said.

“It looks like there’s been a bit of an accident ahead,” she said, thankful for an excuse to redirect the conversation.

Ahead of them, a splendid carriage embellished with ornate carvings of foxes painted in gold was blocking the road. A trunk filled with clothing had broken loose and spilled onto the side of the road. Several guards were retrieving the items while an irate man dressed in clothing better suited for a palace than travel barked orders at them.

“Good morning to you. Would you care for some assistance?” her father called.

“Do you have any rope?” the pompous shifter demanded.

“I’ve a length that would work quite well,” her father responded.

She took the reins when her father handed them to her. He pulled the brake and climbed down. She felt a growing sense of unease as she witnessed the other man's demeanor change to hostility upon realizing they were human and not a shifter. She looked down at her father when he paused by her side of the cart.

“Please be careful,” she murmured.

“You make sure Toby and Gwen are ready,” her father said, glancing at the shifter. “This shouldn’t take long.”

She nodded and kept her eyes on the group as her father walked over to them with a ready smile. The tenseness in her shoulders eased as the last of the items were collected and placed back on top of the carriage and secured. She thought everything was going to be fine until the door to the carriage suddenly opened and a slender ankle appeared.

Elizabeth’s breath caught when a beautiful woman descended the step with the help of a guard. The pompous man tried to argue with the woman, but clamped his mouth shut when the woman raised her hand. Fear gripped her when two of the shifter guards flanked her father who was staring between them with a confused expression as the woman marched toward her.

Elizabeth forced her lips into a pleasant smile. Her fingers instinctively curled around the reins as she studied the woman’s expression. There was a shrewd, calculating gleam in the woman’s eyes that made her leery.

“Good morning, my lady. I see that your items have been retrieved without further incident,” she greeted.

“What is your name, human?” the woman demanded.

Elizabeth frowned and glanced at her father. He was shaking his head. She wasn’t sure what he was trying to tell her. What harm could come in telling the shifter her name? They had never met before. Perhaps she just wanted to know it.

“My name is Elizabeth, your grace,” she answered.

The woman’s eyes narrowed on her, and a chill passed over Elizabeth. The woman’s lips curved into a smile that didn’t reach her eyes. Elizabeth nervously watched as several guards walked closer.

“Is there something I can help your ladyship with? My father and I have a long journey ahead of us and would like to proceed if you don’t mind,” she added, deciding to take a stronger stance.

“Tell me, human, do you know King Or’Ang?”

Shock coursed through Elizabeth at the mention of Or’Ang’s name. She shielded her eyes, but not before the emotion at the unexpected question hit her weary brain. Her sleepless night and the emotional turmoil had left her unprepared for dealing with such a jealous mistress.

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