It was something of a consolation.
‘Just be careful,’ she said.
She still expected to see a tall, stocky boy with wild, dark curls. But Ottone had changed. His face was as wide and open as it always had been, but now his cheeks were leaner and covered in dark stubble. His shoulders were broader, and his frame was solid and strong. Recently, she had noticed a few girls at court glance twice at him in surprise.
‘Don’t worry, little sister,’ said Ottone. ‘I’ll come back in one piece.’
‘You’d better.’
Alinore
FOG CHOKED TORMALE’Swinding streets and cluttered squares. Dark shapes loomed through the early-morning mist: a mountain pony pulling a wagon of milk churns that rumbled and clattered; a drunk man moaning softly in the gutter; a street dog sniffing at a door; and a woman tending to a shop front, tugging back shutters that hissed and clapped.
The start of a new autumn day in Calestra’s capital.
Alinore scurried through it, her boots slipping over oily cobblestones, her cloak pulled tightly around her neck and her throat stinging with the thick, hazy morning air. She had escaped Syonno Castle at first light, leaving through the servants’ quarters, following a cluster of kitchen girls heading to the morning markets. Lately, this had become something of a habit. The first time she had done it, tagging along behind two maids with her hood pulled over her head, Alinore had expected one of the guards to send her back. But no one had given her a second look as she passed through the gates and wandered off unchaperoned. It had beenexciting and a little alarming to suddenly realize such freedom existed.
After that initial, exhilarating experience, she had tried it again and again, exploring the wide squares and quiet back streets of a city she had only ever seen from a distance. She had even attended recent festivals and parades as a member of the crowd, standing among the masses, watching everything from a new viewpoint. Cressyda, of course, did not approve of these wanderings. Whenever Alinore returned from an early-morning roaming around Tormale, the murky smell of the river and the smoky scent of the Old Quarter wafting from her clothes, Cressyda would be waiting, sitting up in bed, her lips pursed.
‘It’s dangerous outside the castle, Alinore,’ she would often say. ‘There’s no protection. What if you got hurt?’
‘I can fend for myself.’
Cressyda would sigh, her breath hissing through her teeth. ‘Why do you evenwantto do it? Why must you always be so … so …’
‘So what?’
‘Difficult.’
Such a confrontation would send them both into truly bad moods and they would be sullen and silent with one another for the rest of the day.
A few times, Alinore had considered asking Cressyda to sneak out with her. The snaking streets of Tormale were so different from the grandness of Syonno Castle. They were lively, slightly threatening and fascinating, full of shouting, bustling people and the scent of pastries from the food stalls. But Cressyda never wanted to venture far for fear of missing one of the Queen’s calls. She rarely left her bedchamber, let alone the castle. So Alinore ventured out alone.
Rounding a corner off one of Tormale’s main streets, Alinore saw the outline of Syonno Castle ahead: tall, square turrets against the thinning, milky mist.
‘Lady Alinore of the House of Mattinias,’ she called as she approached the castle gates, pulling back her hood.
It was not strictly true. Without her father, the House of Mattinias – an honour bestowed in return for battle service – did not exist. She had heard Lady Vienlia, the Queen’s Chief Lady-in-Waiting, mutter as much a few winters ago when Alinore had happened to catch the woman’s notice. But this title was all Alinore had left of her father, and she would not give it up until she was made to.
The guards blinked at Alinore in surprise before ushering her through. There were some mutters about her lack of chaperone, but she sailed past and did not look back.
Heading to one of the lesser-used side-doors of the castle, she passed maids carrying piles of washing and stable boys lugging tack to the back yard. Ducking into a hallway, she unfastened her cloak.
From the other side of the castle came the resounding clangs of the Sanctuary bells. Alinore quickened her pace, scurrying across the eastern courtyard and up a flight of stone steps. Cressyda was normally slow to rise in the mornings, preferring to stay up late, reading books, but when Alinore entered their chamber, the Princess was already sitting up in bed awake. Almost as though she had been waiting.
‘Where’ve you been?’
Alinore muttered a curse under her breath. She marched over to her pallet and tossed her cloak aside.
‘Alinore?’
‘Nowhere. I’ve been nowhere.’
Princess Cressyda raised her eyebrows. ‘I suppose “nowhere” means that you’ve been wandering around the city again?’
Alinore clenched her teeth.
‘If someone tells the Queen—’
