Page 31 of Legacy of Glass
She finally relaxed, accepting the necessity, and he immediately let her go. Stepping back, he ushered her through the front door ahead of him.
“You could try being polite about it,” she muttered, making him frown.
But he decided it was better not to engage with that sally. He was already fighting hard to keep his emotions from snapping free of the tight hold he had on them.
She stopped outside the manor, blinking at the sight of the two saddled horses and the surrounding honor guard.
“We’re riding?” she asked.
A fresh worry hit him. “You can ride, can’t you?”
“Thankfully, yes.” She sounded as close to snapping as he was. “But only because I grew up on a farm. Neither of my cousins can ride, so in this, at least, you are fortunate I’m not a girl of the capital. Please do try to stop making assumptions.”
He nodded tersely before remembering the watching guards.
“Of course. I’m sorry for my oversight.” He managed a smile which he hoped was enough to fool their audience as he tossed her up into the saddle.
Olivia’s eyes narrowed as she settled onto the horse, but a glance at the surrounding guards made her flush.
“Thank you, Your Highness,” she said in a soft voice. Combined with the flush, it painted a more convincing picture than his efforts.
Something shifted in his chest again, and he pushed it ruthlessly aside and swung into his own saddle. Had his compliment earlier sounded as insincere to her as her thanks did to him?
They took off through the streets at a sedate pace, a necessary restriction as they followed the wide road that led through the heart of the capital to the gates of the palace. Their way was lined with crowds on both sides, and the waiting people burst into loud cheers at the sight of the prince and his betrothed.
Olivia blinked, clearly taken off guard by their presence, and he wondered if that was something else he should have warned her about. He was totally unprepared for a bride who knew nothing of royal traditions or court life. And even he hadn’t expected the crowds to be so large or so enthusiastic.
After her initial falter, however, Olivia took it in stride, smiling warmly and waving to the crowds. The people cheered even louder in response, and he reluctantly admitted that his parents had been right. The people loved the idea that he had chosen a bride for himself from among their own number. It was better than them thinking the royal family had been tricked into such a momentous decision.
As she waved, Olivia steered her mount close enough to his to allow for conversation beneath the shouts of the crowd. Despite the people around them, there was no one close enough to overhear their words since their guards had taken up positions ahead and behind, leaving enough room to give the crowds a clear view of the royal couple.
“Why is my aunt sending bags to the palace?”
Julius kept his own smile fixed in place, waving at a gaggle of small children who were enthusiastically throwing flowers into the road.
“If you’re concerned your clothes aren’t fit for the palace and would prefer a whole new wardrobe, I’m sure my mother will be happy to oblige. As my father said, you will receive appropriate care from us for the duration of our betrothal and beyond, if necessary.”
Olivia’s smile slipped for a moment before she pinned it back in place. “I’m not asking for new clothes! Are you telling me that I’m currently in the middle of moving to the palace? Permanently? Without so much as a by-your-leave—or even a chance to pack?”
“Of course you’re moving to the palace.” He fought the frown that tried to creep over his face. “What did you expect? The prince fetches his bride the morning after the ball. That’s always been the tradition. They’ve been readying a suite for you at the palace for weeks.”
Olivia arched an eyebrow before waving at a group of young men who were whistling at her a little too enthusiastically. Julius glowered at them, making a group of girls just beyond the men break into sighs and giggles.
“It hasn’t been prepared forme,” she pointed out tartly.
“It wasn’t personalized for anyone,” he said impatiently. “Marigold’s identity was a state secret until last night.” He paused. “I suppose it’s still a secret.” He shot her a glance. “You didn’t tell anyone, did you?”
“Of course not.” Olivia’s voice sounded brittle. “I was told to be a good girl and keep quiet.”
Julius stared at her, forgetting for a moment to smile and wave. What was she talking about? Who had dared to talk to her that way after she had been publicly revealed as the future crown princess?
The sudden and unexpected surge of protective anger faded as it occurred to him she might have been talking about him. What had his exact words been at their parting the night before? With all the chaos of everything that had happened, he couldn’t remember.
He rubbed the back of his neck. He had intended to counsel her not to discuss too many details of the evening’s events in the few hours they were parted—not until they could get their stories straight. But he had hardly been in his usual state of poise. He might have worded it poorly.
He sighed. He had been talking to Olivia, so he almost certainly had worded it poorly. She had that effect on him.
“If you’re talking about me,” he said stiffly, “that isn’t what I meant. I apologize for my poor communication. I’m sure you can understand that I was in a state of shock.”
