The Princess and the Foal by Stacy Gregg

Author:Stacy Gregg [Stacy Gregg]
Language: eng
Format: epub, mobi
Publisher: HarperCollins Publishers
Published: 2013-09-02T04:00:00+00:00

s she enters the dining room for breakfast, Haya tries not to meet the eyes of the other boarders. She loads up her tray with scrambled eggs and toast and finds an unoccupied table. She feels self-conscious sitting alone, but she is too shy to try and join the others so she is trying to act oblivious to her surroundings and focus hard on her food. This is why it takes her a few seconds to notice that there is a girl standing beside her.

“You shouldn’t eat that.”

Haya looks up. It is one of the blondes from her dormitory.

“I’m sorry?” Haya says.

The blonde casts a knowing glance back over at her friends at the other table. There are four of them, cloistered together giggling, and they all have their eyes fixed on Haya’s table.

“The eggs, I mean,” the blonde says. “It’s a new girl thing. You’ll learn once you’ve been here for a while. Never get the scrambled eggs – they taste like old socks. The trick is to sidestep the eggs and get two servings of sausages. The cooks tell you off, but just ignore them and smile and take an extra piece of toast too.”

The blonde girl plonks herself down at the table beside Haya. “My name is Claire Booth,” she says. “Do I have to call you Your Majesty?”

“My father is Your Majesty,” Haya says. “I am Princess Haya.”

“That is so cool!” Claire Booth says. “Princess Haya.” She says it to see how the words feel coming out of her mouth and then she looks back over her shoulder and pulls a face at her friends who are watching her, wide-eyed in disbelief.

“They were all too scared to come and talk to you,” she says. “They think you’re going to be stuck-up because you are a princess, but you’re not, are you?”

Haya frowns. She doesn’t know what the word means, but she assumes it isn’t good.

“Do you live in a palace?” Claire asks.

“Yes,” Haya says, “but it’s just like a house really.”

“I bet it’s huge!” Claire says. “Do you have lots of servants? We have a housekeeper twice a week at home and I had a nanny when I was little, of course, and there’s a gardener who comes sometimes, but we don’t have butlers or anything really posh like that. My dad’s a surgeon. We’re not filthy rich or anything. Not like some of the girls here. Does your dad have loads of oil wells?”

Haya shakes her head. “There is no oil in Jordan.”

“Well, diamond mines then!” Claire Booth says briskly, clearly not wanting factual details to get in the way of a good story. She looks up at the bodyguard who is standing at the door of the dining hall and watching her warily. She gives him a cheery wave. “Do you have bodyguards with you all the time? What do they do when you go to the bathroom? I suppose they wait outside. Are they going to come to school with you each day? Can you get them to do your homework for you?”

“My father makes me have them,” Haya says.

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