“Ean!” I called as I approached.
He lifted his head and waved. He was very handsome, the kind of person I thought people expected to see next to me. Every action of his was controlled, and I was determined to match him and not let myself be anxious.
“Are you ready?” he asked.
“Almost. I need to grab my saddle.” I walked past him into the stalls.
“Is that what you’re going to wear?”
I whipped back around. “I can do more in ten minutes wearing this dress than most men can do all day wearing pants.”
He laughed. “I don’t doubt it.”
Butterscotch was at the back, in a slightly wider stall than most of the others. A princess’s horse deserved some space and a good view.
I prepped her and walked back to Ean. “If you don’t mind, we’re going to take some photos in the garden first.”
“Oh. No, that’s fine.”
We took our horses by the reins and walked them around to the garden. A man with a camera was there, snapping shots of the sky or trees as he waited. When he saw us, he came over.
“Your Highness,” he greeted, shaking my hand. “I’m Peter. I thought it’d be nice to get a few pictures of the two of you together.”
“Thank you.” I petted Butterscotch. “Where do you want us?”
Peter looked around. “If you can put the horses by a tree, I think a couple of shots in front of this fountain would look nice.”
I let go of Butterscotch, knowing she wouldn’t run. “Come on,” I said warmly.
Once he had tied his horse to a branch, I took his hands. Peter wasted no time. Ean and I smiled and looked shyly away from each other, and this little walk was documented in pictures. We stood in front of the fountain, sat against a shrub, and even took a couple of pictures in front of the horses.
When Peter announced that would be plenty, I nearly threw my arms up in celebration. He walked off rather quickly, grabbing his bags and double-checking his camera. I looked around, and as promised, we weren’t completely alone. Guards lined the palace walls, and a few workers moved around the grounds, tending the grass and paths.
“Here, Butterscotch!” I walked up to her, and she flicked her tail.
Ean masterfully mounted his horse, and I was happy that he was as competent as he’d led me to believe.
“Forgive me, but that seemed a bit staged,” Ean said as we trotted toward the edge of the lawn.
“I know. But allowing them to capture staged moments means that I get to keep the candid moments private.”
“Interesting. So, was that scene with Kile staged or private, then?”
I smirked. Wow, he was quick.
“Last time we spoke, it sounded like you had something you wanted to talk about,” I reminded him.
“I do. I want to be honest with you. But that will require you being completely honest with me. Can you do that?”
Looking into his face, I wasn’t sure I could give him what he asked for. Not today.
“That depends.”
“On?”
“Many things. I don’t tend to divulge my soul to people I’ve only known two weeks.”
We trotted on for a few minutes in silence.
“Favorite food?” he asked, a satisfied smile on his face.
“Do mimosas count?”
He chuckled. “Sure. What else . . . favorite place you’ve ever visited?”
“Italy. Partly for the food and partly for the company. If they come here, you have to meet the royal family. They’re too much fun.”
“I’d like that. Okay, favorite color?”
“Red.”
“Power color. Nice.”
He stopped quizzing me for a moment, and we continued on our path around the palace. It was kind of peaceful. We passed the front gates, and the gardeners stopped their work and bowed as we went by. Once we were out of their hearing, Ean brought his horse closer to mine.
“I could be very wrong, but I’m going to take a guess at some things about you.”
“Go ahead,” I dared.
He hesitated. “Hold on. Let’s stop over here.”
Along the palace wall there was a lone bench, and we pulled up to it.
I hopped off Butterscotch and sat on the small space with Ean.
“Your Highness.”
“Eadlyn.”
“Eadlyn.” He swallowed, showing the first chink in his super-confident armor. “I get the feeling that the Selection isn’t something you truly wanted to do.”
I said nothing.
“If it was, perhaps it’s not what you thought it would be, and now you’re in a situation you don’t particularly like. Most women would die to have dozens of men at their beck and call, but you come across as distant.”
I smiled kindly. “I told you. I don’t open up to people I just met.”
He shook his head. “I’ve seen you on the Report for years. You seem above something like this.”
I inhaled deeply, unsure what to say.
“I come to you with an offer. You may not need it at all, but I want to present the option all the same.”
“What could you, sir, offer to your future queen?”
He smiled, seeming sure of himself again. “A way out.”