A Choice of Crowns by Barb Hendee

Author:Barb Hendee [Hendee, Barb]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Kensington
Published: 2017-08-21T04:00:00+00:00

Chapter Thirteen

“Captain,” I said.

He came closer, studying me. “I think in private, it’s time you started calling me Micah.”

Yes. Ashton always called him by his given name. So had Rowan and Genève.

“That was risky in the hall today,” he went on.

As always with him, I seemed to have no defenses. “I don’t have a choice.”

“What is it you want, Olivia? What are you striving for, here?”

“It’s not so much what I want, as what I don’t want…and I don’t want to be sent home.”

His eyes continued to scan my face. “Are you afraid?”

I wasn’t about to answer that. “I need to be useful to Ashton. I was not useful enough on the dais today.”

“You were. She knows nothing of the price of wine.”

An idea struck me. He was a man who walked in a mix of social circles, and therefore rare. “I should like to learn more of the city’s commerce, of the workings of the merchants and the artisans, so I might be of help to Ashton. Do you know such people? Could you bring a few here and introduce me?”

He considered this for a long moment. “I’ll do you one better. Come with me.”

As he started for the castle gates, I felt awkward hurrying after him. “Where are we going?”

“Into the city. You said you wanted to learn more. The best way to do that is firsthand.”

* * * *

At first, the thought of passing through the gates and exploring the city with Micah seemed terribly wrong. I had no permission. I’d asked no permission. This somehow seemed a breach of all propriety and rules.

Then I realized there was no one to ask. My father wasn’t here. I certainly didn’t need Ashton’s permission to leave the courtyard. In many ways, at this moment, I was…free. So, I walked out the castle gates beside Micah and out into the streets of Partheney, alone in the company of a man to whom I was neither married nor related. Yes, he was the commander of the castle guard, but today he was not playing that role.

It all felt rather scandalous.

I liked it.

“Have you eaten lunch?” he asked.

“No.” I’d barely eaten breakfast.

“Come this way,” he said.

I followed, and we walked down a street of fine houses. After about five city blocks, he turned west, and I found myself amidst several streets of fine shops with colorful signs and awnings.

“There,” he said, pointing to a shop with a bright yellow awning and numerous tables with chairs set up out front.

As we approached, my mouth began to water at the smell of freshly baked bread.

About thirty people already sat at the tables, drinking mugs of tea or eating rolls and sausages.

Micah pulled a chair out at an empty table. “Sit, my lady.”

No matter how polite he was, it sounded like an order. Perhaps he was simply accustomed to spending his days giving orders?

Nevertheless, I sat. I was hungry, and this experience was new. Eating with common people at a table outdoors? Several people called greetings to Micah and looked at me with open curiosity.

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