“Jenny is one of your father’s oldest friends. And mine. We all grew up together. And she’s known your mother for years. If your mother feels it’s all right for Jenny to call her by her first name, I don’t see why you should be different.”
“But things were different back then. After all, when my mother met you all, she was travelling incognito. It would have been pointless for you to use her title. But I’m not. I’m—”
“You’re a spoilt and arrogant brat who needs to be taught a lesson. I’d hoped it wouldn’t come to this, but apparently it has. Follow me.”
He stood abruptly and swept out of the restaurant. Maddie went to follow, juggling boots, jerkin and shirts once more in a jumbled pile.
“And don’t drop anything!” he snapped back at her.
She followed his fast-striding figure up the high street and along the woodland path that led to the cabin. Once there, Will slammed the door open and made his way to the desk against the far wall, rummaging through the papers there until he found what he was looking for.
She stumbled in after him, shedding items of uniform across the verandah and the living room. She paused uncertainly as he turned to face her, an envelope in his hand. He unfolded the single sheet of parchment, then held it out for her.
“Read this,” he said.
She read the first few words on the sheet and started with shock at their content. She glanced quickly to the bottom of the page and saw her mother’s signature, and her father’s, written above their individual seals. There was no doubt. This document was genuine. She went back to the top of the page and read on, feeling the blood drain from her face.
Let it be known that we, the undersigned, hereby renounce all ties with our daughter, Madelyn, and revoke all her titles and privileges as a princess of the realm of Araluen.
She is disinherited as a princess and as our daughter and is to be accorded no privilege or respect formerly due to her as a member of the royal family of Araluen.
Until any further notice, she is to be known and addressed simply as Mistress Madelyn Altman, or, pending the agreement of Ranger Will Treaty to act as her mentor, by the alternative title of Ranger’s apprentice Madelyn.
This is to take effect immediately, as of the date of this proclamation, and will continue indefinitely until such time as we may decide to reinstate Madelyn to her former position.
Given under our joint names and seals,
The signatures were scrawled alongside the wax seals. Maddie looked at the date. The order had been written the day before she had left Castle Araluen to ride to Redmont. All the time she had been on the road, she realised, she had been disinherited—a common nobody. Her eyes filled with tears.
“How could they do this?” she asked, her voice breaking. “Do they really hate me so much?”
Will shook his head. “They don’t hate you. They’re simply at the end of their tether. They thought I might need to have this document to make you understand how serious this whole thing is. I was hoping I wouldn’t have to show it to you. But you made it necessary.
“I’ve been telling you, Maddie. You are no longer a princess. And you can no longer behave as if you are. You are my apprentice. You are no better than anyone else here in Redmont—not Jenny, not the stable boy at the castle, not the youngest of the Battleschool apprentices.
“On the other hand, you are no worse than any of those people, either. You’re an equal among equals.”
Maddie frowned. “But you said Rangers are among the highest ranking officers in the Kingdom…” she began uncertainly.
“Rangers are. Their apprentices are not. And you’re not officially an apprentice yet. You’ll have that as a courtesy title. But you will train for twelve months before you’re assessed and accepted into the Corps.”
“Twelve months?” She was aghast at the prospect. “Twelve months? I thought—”
“You thought this would all be over in a week or two. Then you’d ride back home, say you’re sorry and convince your parents that you’ve seen the error of your ways and all would be forgiven. Right?”
“Well… yes. I suppose so,” she said. She realised how bad it sounded when he said it like that. She also realised that that was exactly how things had gone at least half a dozen times in the past. Her parents would punish her, she’d serve out the time for a day or a week, then apologise abjectly and things would go back to normal. And a few weeks later, she’d be back to her old bad behaviour.
“You’ve done it once too often, Maddie,” Will told her seriously. “Cassandra and Horace have finally had enough. Whether you like it or not, I’m your only hope now.”
Her lip started to quiver and she felt a tear forming in her eye. He noticed it but gave no sign that he had. She’d had a shock, he knew, perhaps the biggest shock of her young life. And now was not the time to let her brood on it.
He pointed to the items of uniform, scattered around the room.
“Gather this lot up,” he said. “Find the best-fitting items. Just shirt, breeches and boots. No need for the cloak. Lace the boots up tight and be outside in five minutes.”
“Outside?” she said, stunned by the sudden change of subject. “What…?”
“We’re going for a run. I want to see how fit you are. Five minutes!”
Without waiting for a reply, he strode out of the door, banging it behind him. She heard his boots on the verandah as he headed for the stable at the rear of the cabin, heard Tug call a brief whinny of greeting to his master.
Then she realised that time was wasting and she still had to sort out the best-fitting items of her new clothing. Scrambling to gather them together, she dashed into her room.
She emerged some minutes later. Whether she had gone over her time limit or not she had no idea. But at least Will didn’t comment. He was sitting astride Tug, waiting in the small clearing before the cabin.
“You’re not running?” she asked.
He raised an eyebrow. “I know how fit I am,” he said. “I’ll ride. You’ll run. We’re going to Foxtail Creek. It’s a little settlement eight kilometres from here. Just a nice stroll there and back again.”
He indicated a path leading off through the trees. “Get going.”
She set off through the trees, head back, arms swinging, legs pumping. She ran smoothly and evenly, setting a good pace. Her stride was balanced and light. Will edged Tug along behind her. The little horse twitched his ears quizzically.
How did she take it?
“Take what?” he asked. Maddie heard his soft comment and turned curiously. He waved her on. “Keep going.”
Being disinherited. How did she handle it?
“How do you know about that?” This time, Will kept his voice low, so that it was almost inaudible.
I’ve told you. If you know it, I know it.
Not for the first time in his career, Will wondered whether his horse was actually talking to him, or whether he was simply talking to himself. He decided he didn’t want to know the answer to that.
“Well, she wasn’t thrilled,” he replied. Then he raised his voice. “Walk for three hundred paces. Then run again,” he called.
Maddie nodded, without looking back. She slowed to a brisk walk, then, as she reached the three-hundred count, she began to run again. Will saw her shoulders go back and her head come up. There was a determined set to her body. He nodded approvingly.