She goes silent.
“Serious issues with her reign,” I correct. “Obviously you have minor complaints. Mom always says that any subject who claims to agree with everything their queen does is either a liar or a fool. You are not the latter, and you don’t need to be the former around me.”
She chuckles softly at that. Then she sobers and says, “I’m still getting used to court life. Back home, I wouldn’t have thought twice about spreading romantic gossip. If they aren’t married, what’s the harm?” She looks at me. “I see the harm now. If anyone asks me about them, I’ll say I know nothing of it.”
“Thank you.”
I push open my bedroom door. Jacko zooms past and hops to the fire, where Malric sprawls. Eyes closed, the warg curls his lip in a low growl that has Jacko skidding to a halt.
They play a game then, one I call “how close can Jacko get to the fire?” Jacko takes a step in one direction. Malric allows it. Another step. Growl. When Jacko finally settles on a spot, it’s just past the point where Malric growled. Jacko must always push that boundary, and the fact that Malric doesn’t toss him across the room suggests the warg respects that.
I’m still stepping through the doorway when a peep startles me, and I look over to see the chickcharney on my bed.
“What are you doing here?” I ask as I walk to it—to her, actually. I’d checked that on the way home. The last time I saw the beast, Dain was offering to take her as Rhydd and I went in to confess to our mother. I’d told him where to take the chickcharney, too.
“Does this look like the chicken coop?” I mutter.
“Kinda does,” Alianor says as she bounces on my bed. “A menagerie, at least. Between the live beasts and the stuffed ones and your sketches…” She sweeps a hand around my room. “I get the feeling you’re, like, the royal monster hunter or something.”
I sigh and pick up the chickcharney. She settles onto my lap, which is kind of awkward since she can’t bend her legs.
“Thank you for not eating the chickcharney, Malric,” I say.
He grunts without opening his eyes.
“Thank Dain,” Alianor says, “for filling the warg’s food bowl when he dropped off the bird.”
“I’d thank him more for not dropping off the bird at all.”
“She can keep you company, since you’ll apparently be spending a lot of time in here, having not taken my advice.”
“Rhydd and I don’t lie to our mother.”
“But it would have been a good lie. Helped you and helped your mother. That’s lying for the best possible reason.”
I shake my head.
She twists to look at me, her light-brown hair falling over one shoulder. “No one was seriously injured. You could have said you and Sunniva hurt yourselves goofing around. Dain would have kept your secret.”
“Right, Dain would have had to lie to Wilmot…and anyone else who asked. Then, if someone did discover the truth, Mom would have had to admit that she couldn’t control her children. That the future king and royal monster hunter aren’t just mischievous kids who get into trouble hunting chickcharnies. That they’re untrustworthy brats who lie about it to their queen. It’d be one more thing for Heward to use against her. She’s a single parent, still grieving over her sister, and paying no attention to her wild and irresponsible children, probably because she’s busy cuddling with her bodyguard.”
“Have you ever seen her cuddling—?”
“No. Stop that.”
She thumps back onto the bed. “It’s just so romantic. The queen and her bodyguard, thrown together by the death of her beloved husband and his beloved friend, finding solace in their grief…”
I reach under the bed and shove a book into her hand.
“What’s this?” She turns the pages, and her eyes light up. “The Ballad of Chikako and Reynard. You read romantic novels?”
“No, but it seems you need to, so you can have that one. My aunt gave me a few, for when I got interested. I’m not yet.”
Alianor’s eyes got round. “Jannah read romantic novels?”
“Why not?”
“Is it true about Jannah and Wilmot—?”
“Stop. Please, stop. Go read, and if that isn’t enough, I’m sure we can find you a handsome stable boy to moon over.”
“I don’t want to moon over anyone. I just like hearing stories. I’ll take this one, with thanks.”
She puts it aside and settles in. “I’ll be careful about your mom, too. I thought being a warlord’s daughter was complicated. It’s easy compared to being a princess.”
I shrug and pet the chickcharney. “If I were a scullery maid, I’d have fewer responsibilities, but I wouldn’t have this room. Or my monster companions. Or my dresses, my jewels, my books, my weapons, my mare…We are well compensated for our hardships.”
“You would have made a good queen, Rowan.”
“I’ll make a better royal monster hunter.”
“True. And while you will not like being confined to your room, you do have something to look forward to. The gryphon will give birth any day now.” She catches my stricken expression and stops. “Surely your mother will lift your punishment for that.”
I hug the chickcharney tight enough to make the beast squirm. “She can’t.”
Alianor considers and then nods. “Because if she grants an exception to your punishment, it can be seen as weakness.” She sighs and leans against the headboard. “The next time we go hunting, Heward should come along. For the experience. It’s not our fault if you attract monsters. Not our fault if a wyvern thinks Heward smells delicious. Definitely not our fault if that’s because someone substituted beef tallow for his shaving cream.”
She grins my way, but I barely notice, my stomach roiling at the thought of missing the gryphon birth.
“Maybe I can convince Mom it’s a lesson,” I say. “When else will I get a chance to watch a gryphon give birth?”
I expect Alianor to jump on this. Instead, she goes quiet, and when I look over, she says carefully, “But if you ask and she has to say no, that’s going to upset her, right? She’s already upset about having to punish you.”
I sink back onto the bed. I could argue, but doing the “right thing” isn’t really in Alianor’s vocabulary. If even she’s suggesting I shouldn’t ask…
This is part of growing up. Of being mature and responsible. A child can think “there’s no harm in asking.” But it will hurt Mom to refuse something I want so badly, and I’d be putting her in a difficult position if I asked.