‘I saw you jump that fallen tree.’
Alinore rolled her eyes. ‘I didn’t want to get left behind.’
‘Yes, but—’
‘You don’t need to worry about me. I can look after myself.’
Prince Ottone nodded, the wind pulling his dark curls away from his face. ‘I know.’
Below them the hounds howled in the woods, moving in for the kill, their barks echoing across the valley. They were hunting in thevast farmland that sprawled at the back of Syonno Castle, stretching and rising into the mountains.
‘My father taught me how to ride,’ said Alinore. ‘He was fearless.’
It was at times like these that she missed him the most. He would have found her daring impressive and would have let her ride a proper horse. Memories of her father came to Alinore in flashes: the warmth of his hand steadying her when she was small; the bedtime tales of his travels during her childhood; his smell of leather, smoke and horses. Each recollection made her ache. Since receiving news of his death two winters ago, the seasons had been dark and lonely. She did not know how she would have survived it without Cressyda or Prince Ottone. They never let Alinore sink too far into grief, tugging her back with laughter, coaxing her through each day, encouraging her to keep going.
‘Thank you for reminding King Borto of the anniversary,’ added Alinore, fiddling with strands of her mare’s mane. ‘It was nice toasting my father’s memory at dinner yesterday.’
‘It’s the least we can do,’ replied Prince Ottone.
They rode on in companiable silence until a smattering of applause broke out below and Prince Samsel emerged from the woods, carrying the head of a horned hare aloft, fingers gripped around one prong. He swung it over his shoulder, blood dripping down his arm. The King nodded his approval and the courtiers around him cheered.
‘I think my brother’s enjoying himself a bit too much.’
Alinore wrinkled her nose. She had noticed that Prince Ottone tried to stay out of his older brother’s way. Prince Samsel called Prince Ottone ‘the hulking beast’ or ‘the useless spare’, though he was careful to be all smiles whenever the King and Queen were present.
‘They’ll start another hunt in a moment,’ said Prince Ottone. ‘Are you coming?’
Alinore shook her head, avoiding his gaze. ‘I’m going this way,’ she muttered, gesturing off to their left, further along the hill.
‘Where?’ asked Prince Ottone, frowning.
‘Nowhere specifically. I thought I’d just have a look around. This is the only timeI’mallowed out of the castle. We’re not all princes.’
‘And what’re you going to be looking for exactly?’
‘Nothing.’
He stared at her.
Alinore felt her cheeks flush. She found it difficult to keep anything from Prince Ottone.
‘You’re a terrible liar, Lady Alinore.’
‘Urgh, fine! I thought I might see a wild dragon. You said you’ve spotted them on hunts before. I’ve still never seen one.’
Prince Ottone tipped his head back and sighed. ‘I suppose we could be quick …’
‘You’ll come too?’ Alinore quickly tried to hide her delighted smile.
‘Of course. I know the best vantage point.’
Prince Ottone nudged his stallion into a canter over the brow of the hill and Alinore raced after him on her mare. Mountain goats scattered with bleats of protest as they passed, and stones clattered down the slope in their wake. They dropped into the dip of the next valley, hooves thudding against rocks, before beginning the steady climb up the opposite hillside. Ottone glanced back once, a grin flashing across his face, as though daring her to keep up, and Alinore met the challenge with a laugh, leaning forward in the saddle, urging her mare faster. Behind them, the hunting hounds howled, chasing a new scent.
As they crested a ridge, a nearby hillside flashed into view, stone cottages dotting its side like scattered pebbles. Alinore squinted, trying to pick out details: the glint of straw-thatched roofs and the dark, round mouths of communal wells. She had heard one of the King’s councilmen refer to the ‘many’ Mountain villages and Cressyda had later explained there were more than twenty, each with their own ruling governor in a constitutional monarchy. Alinore looked at the distant stone cottages now, wondering what it was like to live up here in the thin, bright air, surrounded by wilderness. And dragons. She was quiet, lost in such thoughts, until something high up to her left caught her attention.
‘Look!’ she cried. ‘There’s smoke up there!’
They paused on the rocky hill and turned. On a faraway mountain, a plume of dark grey wafted from a jagged ledge.
