“Are you a traitor?” she asked, but that ringing playfulness never left her voice.
“No,” I answered, trying not to be upset that she’d even ask.
“Well then,” she said, “why should I be uncomfortable?” I didn’t have an answer for that, and when she spoke again, she finally sounded serious. “We are more than the legacies of our fathers, Kiena, remember that.” I met her eyes, and it was so encouraging, such an extent of trust that I couldn’t help but smile gratefully. “And you won’t offend me,” she added, but I offered no reply. “If I act helpless,” she started saying, regaining the amused tingle to her voice, “or if I fall off Brande and pretend to be hurt, would you forget my title and speak freely again?”
She seemed to sincerely want me to be more at ease, so I gave in, and tested the waters by saying, “Not now that you’ve told me you’re a faker, Princess.”
“Ah, touché!” she laughed. “Though I don’t think you should keep calling me ‘Princess.’ If someone were to hear, it could get us in trouble.”
“What would it please you to be called?”
“Ava,” she said readily, and when I looked up at her, she had another smirk on her face. “I also happen to think Little Will-o’ has a nice ring to it, don’t you?”
My cheeks burned a bright red, so that I was almost tempted to pull my hood up and hide my face. But, growing more comfortable with the princess’s light humor, I couldn’t help but smile. “I happen to think you’re a relentless tease, Ava.”
“I can’t help myself the way you color, Kiena,” she responded, copying my tone exactly. She’d taken to giggling at the way I blushed again when she said that, but too soon her smile faded, and her eyebrows scrunched unhappily.
“Is your wrist beginning to hurt?” I asked, squinting through the trees to see if I could spot the village. A small sliver of a cabin was visible between the breaks.
When the princess answered in the affirmative, I picked up my pace, leading Brande more quickly toward the village. We reached the inn shortly after, and I made sure the fire was going in the room so Ava would be comfortable while I went back out to secure Brande in the stables. I took my sleeping furs and saddle back into the inn with me, and before returning to the princess, I got a loaf of bread, some cheese, and a cup of wine from the tavern. I carried all this back with some difficulty, the hardest part being not spilling the drink. The princess was sitting under the covers of the bed when I returned, and she flinched with surprise at my opening the door.
“It’s just me,” I offered, dropping my furs and saddle onto the floor so I had a hand to close the door with, and I made sure to secure the latch. Upon turning around, I saw that Albus had made himself comfortable at her side, and, of course, my cheeks turned rosy. “I’m so sorry,” I mumbled while I set the rest of the things down on a small table in the room. “He’s used to sleeping on the bed with me at home,” I explained. Albus was treated like a king at my house, when I knew most people didn’t even let their dogs indoors. “Albus, get down.”
The wolfhound began to rise, but Ava put her hand on him in protest. “It’s fine,” she said. He resumed his comfortable position, even going so far as to put his head in her lap, and I tried not to chuckle at the gloating look in his eyes. “I feel safe with him here. And more so, now that you’re back.”
I took off my coat and vest to settle in for a comfortably warm night, and then carried the food to the bed and handed Ava the cup of wine. “For your wrist,” I told her when she glanced into it. “To take the edge off.” Then I ripped off a piece of bread and handed it to her. “You’re truly afraid for your life, Princess?” At my question, her lips curved into a frown, though I couldn’t be sure whether it was her fear or the fact that I’d called her ‘Princess.’ In case it was the latter, I added, “There’s no one around to hear it.”
“I wish you wouldn’t say it at all,” she sighed, picking at the bread and putting a tiny crumb into her mouth. “Now that you don’t treat me like a Will-o’-the-wisp, I feel as though I’ve lost a friend.”
My eyes dropped gloomily. It hadn’t occurred to me that the princess might be lonely, and I couldn’t imagine what it was like feeling as if no one was on your side. Even I had Albus and Brande when things got lonely. In an attempt to cheer her, I nudged her chin up so she’d look at me. “Are you royalty, Little Will-o’?” I asked in feigned surprise. “By the gods, I’d hardly noticed.” It was bold touching her like that, and even as I did it, the action made me nervous. But then she grinned, and I was instantly put at ease.
“Will you tell me another story?” she asked, avoiding my question about the danger she was in. “I rather enjoy your stories.”
“What kind would you like?”
Ava took another gulp from the cup of wine, and smiled gratefully when I offered her a cut of cheese. “Tell me one with you. I want to know what kind of a place you come from, or what your family’s like.”
“Me?” I repeated. She nodded with interest. “Alright, uh, well, my father died before I was born, you know, but I have a little brother. Nilson. He’s adopted, of course. My mother’s a cottager, she only has a few acres, but a friar was going around with this little infant he’d found on the side of the road, and no one would take him in. She’s got more heart than she does money, so she saw fit to look after him.” I’d been picking at a spot of fur on the blankets, but here I glanced up to make sure Ava was still interested. She nodded me on. “You know the kingdom, I’m sure,” I said, thinking she’d have had tutors that would’ve taught her geography. “So, our land’s only a few miles out of Wicklin Moor, near the edge of the Rockwood Forest.”
Ava nodded again, so I continued. “Nilson’s always had a particular enthusiasm for sweets,” I paused, knowing this was a story about thievery, and pointed at Ava with a smile, “now, you can’t tell another soul this story. Swear it?”
“You have my word,” she swore, giggling at my tone.
“We’re too poor to be wasting money on sweets, you see, so when he was just a tiny boy, he got it in his head that he could pinch it. Usually it was just from the neighboring farms, and he was so small that he actually made a fair thief.” I paused to take a bite of food. “Every once in a while, however, he’d want something fresh. So he’d hike the two leagues to Wicklin Moor, and come home with his pockets full of still hot pastries. Mind you, Ava,” I said, already pleased by the amused grin on her face, “we hadn’t given him any money. Not even the most charitable baker’s going to give him that many sweets for free, but we just couldn’t get it out of him how he happened upon so many.
“The furs I don’t use, I take into town to sell. This particular time I’d hunted a bear, and since I had more coins in my pocket than usual, I thought I’d come home with a sweet roll for Nilson.” I was already holding back laughter because I knew the part of the story that was coming up, and at my merriment, Ava’s face was lit up with expectation. “So I walk into the baker’s shop in Wicklin Moor, and the baker’s standing there, waiting on me to make a selection. I look up from staring at the baskets of goods, and you know what I see behind the baker?” Ava shook her head. “There’s Nilson, dangling from a rope through a fresh hole in the roof, reaching for the pastries the baker had just taken off the fire.” Ava snorted with laughter and covered her mouth with her hands. “He’d made friends with one of the beggar boys in town, so this boy’s at the other end of the rope, holding on for dear life so Nilson could get them their sweet rolls.”