My Lady Jane(63)

“Yes.” But he hesitated to tell her about how often he’d felt trapped in a gilded cage by all of that attention. How he’d yearned to accomplish things on his own.

“And you spent your days passing royal decrees, not working to keep yourself warm and fed,” she added.

He shrugged. “I left most of the decree making to my counselors.” He’d always found the running of the country to be about as interesting as watching grass grow, so he’d mostly delegated it to others. It’s what they were there for, he reasoned.

“So what did you do?” she asked. “Eat, drink, and be merry, all the livelong day?”

“No.” He scoffed, but he was thinking of the way he’d started each day as king being dressed by his servants, his morning meal taken in his private chambers on a literal silver platter, then off to his hours of lessons with the most impressive tutors of the realm. Then lunch. Then he’d spent the afternoons (before his illness had struck him, anyway) playing tennis or practicing at archery and swordplay. He was fairly good with the lute, too, and sometimes he’d perform little plays with his grooms. And sometimes he’d gone hunting. For deer. And bears. And (gulp) foxes.

It occurred to Edward then that in some ways he’d always been preparing to be a king, instead of truly being one.

He cleared his throat. “So, how old were you,” he asked, to change the subject, “when you discovered you were an E?ian?”

“Oh, I’ve always known it,” Gracie answered. She turned the rabbit slowly to its other side. “My ma and da were, and all my aunts and uncles and cousins and such. It would have been a great disappointment to me if I’d turned out differently.”

“But when did you know you were a fox?” he asked.

She shrugged. “Many Scots are foxes. And harts and hinds, martens and roes, the beasts of the chase, we are. Why else do you think the English have taken such pleasure in hunting us?”

Gulp. The English, aka Edward. Although he considered the bad blood between England and Scotland to be completely his father’s doing, certainly not his own, except for all that business with Mary Queen of Scots. He shuddered. “So why are you helping me, if you’re Scottish and I’m English and we should be trying to kill each other?”

She lifted the roasting stick from the fire and drew out her knife again to divide the rabbit. To answer his question, she said, “I’ve always had a weak spot for the truly pathetic creatures of this world.”

“Thanks,” he said wryly, and promptly burned his tongue on the rabbit. “God’s teeth, that’s hot!”

Gracie handed him a flask of water, which he took gratefully.

“So tell me about this granny of yours who’s going to save the day.” She had the sense to blow on the meat before she began to eat it, and for a moment Edward just watched her. “Your granny at Helmsley?” she prompted.

“Oh. She’s the old Queen Mother,” Edward explained. “My father’s mother, Elizabeth. She was supposed to have died half a century ago, even before my father became king. But they only told the people she’d died, when in truth they spirited her to Helmsley, where she’s been ever since.”

“Why?”

“Because she’s a skunk.”

Gracie snorted with laughter. “A skunk?”

“An E?ian, in the time when it was illegal to be an E?ian,” Edward continued around a more careful mouthful of rabbit. “But my grandfather loved her, he truly loved her, so rather than burn her at the stake he decided to stage her death and send her away. We’d take a trip out to the country to see her every few years, Mary and Bess and I, and my cousin Jane a few times, too, since Gran is her great-grandmother. She’s so old—she’s got to be nearing ninety now, I’d say—and she has no decorum whatsoever. Once, she made Father so angry that he turned into a lion, and we were afraid he’d devour her, but then she turned into a skunk and sprayed him right in the face. It took weeks for him to be rid of the smell.”

“Sounds like I’m going to like her,” Gracie said with a grin.

“Jane and I adored her. She loved to play games with us. It’s her face on the cards, you know, whenever you draw the queen of hearts.”

“Is that so?” Gracie was already done with her rabbit, and flung its bones into the brush. She always ate quickly, without anything resembling manners, as if she might have to flee at any moment. Edward, on the other hand, was taking time to savor his rabbit. He was finding this fire-cooked food better than anything he’d been served in the palace, because now when he ate he was always so hungry, and he could feel the food giving his body strength that he desperately needed. This food was giving him life.

“So is it really only a day left before we arrive at Helmsley?” he asked when he was finished.

“If we don’t run into any more problems.” Gracie sucked at a bit of rabbit grease on her fingers. “But, like I’ve said time and again, we could get there much faster if you’d only—”

“And I’ve told you time and again,” Edward interrupted. “I’m not going to become a bird and ride on your shoulder like your pet. If it were so simple as that, I could change and fly straight there, couldn’t I? I could leave you behind.”

“Well, don’t be staying on my account.” She leaned back on her arms and gazed up at the stars. “Fly, then.”