Breaking Her In (Court of Paravel 2)

Behind him, the men from the Royal Guard glower at me, as if talk of Varga makes them edgy. It’s not my fault. The King started it.

“I’d like to ask you why you didn’t take your father’s name, but I’ve already asked you two questions, and I haven’t even told you what I’m doing here.”

There’s something about the King’s smile that I like, as well as the warmth in his deep brown eyes. His shiny shoes are getting muddy, and he hasn’t seemed to notice.

“I’m a bastard, and I was given my mother’s name. I don’t think my father liked my mother enough to marry her. I don’t think he liked her at all. He can’t have, can he?”

The brown eyes flash with sympathy. “Of course. I’m very sorry for your loss.”

“I thought you’d be at Levanter’s wedding.”

“I was there for the ceremony. I’ll go back to the reception shortly. I was going to ask you the same question.”

I give a short laugh. “Why aren’t I at the wedding? Why would I be at the wedding?”

“I hear you were invited.”

“How did you hear that?”

“Oh, I have my ways.”

“I thought spies were Varga’s thing.”

The Royal Guard all step forward angrily, but King Anson waves them back. “No spies. Lady Wraye is a lovely young woman who wants to spread her own happiness everywhere. She works at the palace, did you know?”

“Oh. Yes, I did know. Sir.” I keep forgetting to say sir. I hope he gets to the point soon. “Can I help you with something, sir? Did you come here about your horses?”

“Not my horses, no. They’re happy at the palace stables. I thought you might be able to assist me with the horses that belong to the First Families. This would be a wonderful place for them. Why aren’t they here?”

It’s probably not a good idea to growl at your King, but I can’t help the way my voice sounds as I force out, “Because they don’t want to bring them here.”

“Can’t you and Lady Aubrey think of a way to encourage them?”

“We’ve tried. Everyone knows Varga kept his horses here, and Lungren’s infamy doesn’t help, either.”

King Anson’s face doesn’t change at the mention of the man who killed his parents. “It would be terrible to lose this stable, and for you to lose your livelihood.”

No kidding. “Can’t be helped. I’ve tried everything.” Behind the King, one of the Royal Guard clears his throat until I add, “Sir.”

“It would be wonderful if Paravel could be represented at the Olympics in dressage,” the King continues, gazing around the fields and coming to rest on Onyx. “For that, we need a prestigious school of dressage. One with a royal charter. I thought that place could be here.”

My eyebrows creep up my forehead. Bellerose Stables receiving a royal charter to teach dressage? After what this place was under the People’s Republic? “But I don’t know the technicalities of dressage.”

“Lady Aubrey does.”

“You want me to hire Lady Aubrey?”

The King turns back to me with a smile so knowing that I’m certain Rasmussen has been ranting to him about inappropriate goings on. “I’m sure you and she can figure out an arrangement.”

“I’m sure we can’t. Archduke Levanter barely tolerates her keeping her horse here.”

“Then forge some indelible connection between the two of you. Something on paper that has to be signed. Levanter usually handles that for the First Families, but I’ll sign it for you, if you ask me.”

There’s a fierce burn in my chest. Is he saying what I think he’s saying? That he’s on mine and Aubrey’s side? I’ve never had an ally before, let alone one as powerful as the ruler of Paravel.

I suddenly wish I hadn’t forgotten quite so many sirs, while I was talking to him. “Sir, my father caused you and your family a great deal of pain. I’m sorry.”

For the first time, King Anson’s pleasant expression cracks, and he looks almost angry. “You’re not to be sorry. I won’t hear that from you, Bellerose. If you feel one shred of guilt for things that happened before you were even born, I want you to stamp it out. You’re not the one who has to pay.”

“Sir?”

His voice has become rough and bitter. “Just do better than he did. That’s all I ask.”

“It’s a low bar, sir.”

The storm clouds on the King’s face clear. “Well, then, Bellerose. Hop on over it.”

I don’t just want to step over the bar; I want to leap over it. I feel like there’s electricity crackling through my veins. “My mother was from the southern provinces, sir. I don’t know much about her, but I like to believe that she and her family supported the old King and Queen, and she would have been loyal to you, too. I don’t think she could help, you know… My father.”