The Great Hunt (Eurona Duology, #1)(8)
“Breckon’s cousin, the lieutenant.” Her heart gave a squeeze.
“You mean Harrison Gillfin? But he’s twenty! Three years your senior!” Vixie pulled a sour face, as if he were an old man.
Aerity laughed.
“Are you going to marry him?” her sister asked.
This gave Aerity pause. She loved Harrison, but not in that way. They’d tried many a time to force something romantic, but their friendship overrode those notions. Their kisses had lacked passion and often ended in laughter. But during the summer gala when Aerity, Harrison, Breckon, and Wyneth had snuck down to the castle’s wine cellars and shared several bottles of mead, Aerity and Harrison had made a fuzzy-minded pact as they snuggled together between two crates, giving their cousins privacy.
“What if I never find a lad to marry, Harrison? What if I never fall in love, like my parents did? What will the people say if I rule alone?”
She’d been leaning back between Harrison’s legs, and he kissed her hair.
“You will rule well on your own or otherwise. But I will marry you in a heartbeat.”
She’d turned to peer up at his smooth-shaven face. A face she trusted. “You will find a wife long before that.”
He’d stared past her, eyes going blurry for a moment in thought, then took a long drink from his bottle. “I don’t think so, Aer. I will always be here for you.”
But it hadn’t been a confession of love. Of that she felt certain.
“I don’t know, Vixie,” Aerity finally answered. “I’m not sure I’ll ever marry.”
“Me either!” Vixie said.
Aerity pushed open the doors of the High Hall and let out a relieved breath at the sight of their little brother and cousins running about. She pushed heavy thoughts from her mind.
Already the lot of them were at one another’s throats with boredom, whining and shouting, and it had been only three days since they’d been confined to the castle. Princess Aerity had volunteered to entertain the children during the day while studies were suspended, distracting them and keeping them away from the adults, in exchange for having her acrobatic silks brought up from the practice room, which was too small for all of them to play in.
Her youngest cousins, Caileen and Merity, were playing with the silks, running through them, letting the light fabric flow over their heads. Six-year-old Merity grabbed hold of the bottom of the red silk, which hung from the tall ceiling. She tried to climb, but it slipped through her fingers.
“Here,” said Caileen, much wiser and able at eight years of age. “Let me show you.” The girl took hold of the silks as high as she could reach with both hands, and attempted to circle her leg around the bottom. She made a frustrated sound when the fabric wouldn’t catch against her foot, repeatedly sliding through.
Aerity giggled and the girls turned. Their faces brightened.
“Aer! Show us!” Caileen begged.
The princess obliged. “You’ve got to get it nice and tight around your foot, like a band, to the point where it nearly stings.” She grabbed hold up high with both hands, wound her ankle about the fabric with a downward thrust to tighten, and then placed her other foot securely on top of the silks to leverage it, stepping up. Aerity swung lightly above the ground, her legs locked, muscles tight. She explained each step as she went, then hopped down to let the girls try. “One at a time, youngest first.” Caileen pouted as Merity cheered.
The other six children were loud behind them. Aerity clapped her hands. “Let’s line up and have a race!” Her voice echoed off the slick marble floors, tall stone walls, and massive windows. The room was large enough for grand balls, but it was a poor substitution for running through grasses, climbing trees, and swimming.
“No cheating, Donubhan,” Aerity warned.
Her ten-year-old brother grinned up at her, mischief in his eyes, too adorable with all that thick hair.
Vixie stood with the younger lads and lasses, hiking up her skirts to run, stuck at the age where she still wanted to play, yet also wanted to be treated as a grown woman when the mood struck.
Aerity lifted her arm and lowered it, shouting, “Go!”
Redheads of every shade dashed across the High Hall and Aerity couldn’t help but smile. Her two siblings and eight cousins were safe and exuberant, despite the chaos outside their doors.
All of the royal children were present except Wyneth, the oldest. She was still in her chamber. Daggers stabbed at Aerity’s heart to imagine what Wyneth had been through. The horrors. She couldn’t fathom the deranged animal her cousin had seen.
Where had such an atrocity come from?
The princess turned to the grand window and stared out at the castle lands. High Hall was the tallest point of the castle besides the towers, with windows adorning all four sides. Marksmen would be on the roofs above them at that moment with their bows strung tight, scouting. Below, the only people about were soldiers, both naval and royal, bustling on their missions. The edginess never left Aerity, even as she tried to hide it from the curious children.
From this western window she could see the commons area and the seas past it with the trade port. Merchant and fishing boats were always going in and out. From the north window was forest and the royal docks along Lanach Creek. From the east window she could see hundreds of acres of lush land, rolling and green. Beyond that, out of sight, was the fortified stone wall that went from Lochlanach Bay above to Oyster Bay below. The south window looked out over the royal markets, where people came from all over to buy, sell, and trade goods.