She stood tall. Back straight. Chest out.

  He had been taught not to objectify people based on their physical appearance, but he couldn’t help it.

  Couldn’t help not notice the physical perfection of her.

  Eagle eyes could tell from the way her muscles shifted underneath her white shirt and tight jeans that she was more than an ordinary young woman.

  No.

  Those muscles contained much greater strength.

  Perhaps, like him.

  Slim with feminine curves.

  Feminine, but powerful.

  Her black hair looked lustrous and shiny even if she had tied it into a simple ponytail.

  He prayed to the God he didn’t truly believe in that her face fit her body.

  It would be a shame to have such a great backside matched with less than above average features.

  When she turned, his mouth dropped.

  Yup.

  They matched.

  He breathed a sigh of relief.

  She appeared to be around his age.

  Seventeen, perhaps as old as twenty at the most.

  He had been worried that she would be too old for him.

  Then again, she might have only looked that age.

  Not that he cared at the moment.

  “Beautiful…”

  “I’m in agreement, with full respect for the women, your majesty. What say you, Dickie?” Trajan said.

  “Yeah, I agree, er, from a purely aesthetic standpoint, your majesty. I’m not being lustful at all,” Dickie said.

  The queen shook her head.

  “I said that out loud, didn’t I?”

  “That you did, Gryph. But, don’t worry. Not everyone heard you.”

  He ignored the dark looks some of the young ladies shot toward the mystery beauty.

  “Great. Court’s going to be talking about this by tomorrow.”

  “Try tonight,” Dickie said, laying donut glaze-encrusted fingers on his shoulder.

  He pushed that out of his mind to focus on a more important topic.

  The beautiful young woman.

  It was at a time like this that he might’ve wished he had tried harder at poetry lessons because he lacked the right words to describe what he saw.

  She didn’t look like the typical Londoner or citizens from other parts of New Britain.

  Black hair wasn’t rare.

  And skin tones ranged pleasantly diverse from the darkest brown to the palest pink.

  The mystery young woman had light brown skin.

  More fair than dark.

  Like a cup of coffee, but only a quarter coffee and the rest cream.

  Yes.

  He remembered why his poetry lessons hadn’t gone well.

  What set her apart were her features.

  Not at all common in London or the rest of New Britain from what he could remember.

  There was something about them that were familiar in a vague way, though.

  “Harry? Son? Don’t you recognize her?”

  “Mum? Should I?”

  One would think he’d never forget the sight of such a beauty.

  She laughed at that.

  Genuine.

  From the belly.

  Drawing attention.

  Except from him.

  He focused on what, who, was important.

  Keen ears listened to the conversation the young woman was having with the family at the table she had just placed a full tray of breakfast pastries and a full tray of drinks.

  “I must say you’re gorgeous. Very exotic. I don’t mean to offend,” the mother said.

  “Dear, don’t be rude,” the father said.

  “Where are you from?”

  “Dear.”

  “I’m not trying to be rude. Just curious. I don’t see many with your look in London, miss. Please understand. If I’m offending please say so and I’ll apologize and stop right away.”

  The mysteriously beautiful young woman gazed down at the mother with a blank expression.

  “I guess it’s fine.”

  Even her voice sounded beautiful to the prince.

  “I’m kinda from all over the place. I guess I’ve spent most of my time in Scotland.”

  “Oh, wow! Where?” the mother said.

  The young beautiful mystery woman shrugged.

  “I dunno. There isn’t really an address. The moors? I guess?”

  “Mum, I’m cold,” the young daughter said.

  “Up!” the toddler boy said as he thrust his arms up. “Up! Up!”

  The young mysterious beauty looked from the little boy to the parents.

  “Seriously?”

  “If you don’t mind, I don’t mind. It’s a little odd. He doesn’t normally ask strangers for uppies,” the mother said.

  “And I don’t normally pick up strange kids, but I guess it’s okay for a bit.” She lifted the boy from his high chair and he promptly wrapped his pudgy arms around her neck, snuggling his chubby cheek against hers.

  Strange, but the prince’s superior senses did notice that the space around her was noticeably warmer than the rest of that part of the tent.

  The large open windows were letting out a lot of the warmth in favor of letting the cooler air in from outside.

  Perhaps, the little boy was a cold as his sister and sought the only source of warmth nearby?

  The prince stopped listening and watching lest he start to become irrationally jealous of a child.

  It was rude and something the gossipy types at court did, which wasn’t something he did… ever.

  “Mum, who is she? And this better not be what I think it is.”

  It was a point of principle.

  No arranged marriage.

  He would marry for love or not at all.

  He had stamped his foot down once and for all in front of an embarrassingly large amount of people a few years ago, which meant he had to stick to it lest he appear like a feckless youth.

  Granted, he, uh, may have had cause to soften his stance.

  “That’s Lera!” His mother beamed up at him.

  “Oh…”

  She hadn’t looked like that from what he remembered.

  “When was the last time you saw her?” his mother mused. “Four? Five years ago? During one of our many festivals or parties, undoubtedly. Yes!” She snapped her fingers. “The Winter Solstice celebration. Her mother attended, which was notable, because that woman doesn’t attend things. Of course we found out why she attended, didn’t we?”

  “I don’t remember… I mean I remember the party and Lera and the witches, but not anything weird like you’re making it sound.”

  He did remember that Lera’s mum had scared the piss out of him what with looking like a normal, pretty American woman one moment and a whirling storm of black feathers and cawing ravens the next.

  And that wasn’t a figure of speech.

  He, along with many others, undoubtedly, had a bit of pee dribbling out to escape against their will that night.

  “I suppose I should at least greet her. On behalf of the crown, of course.”

  His friends snickered.

  “I want you to take her around the festival. She’s had a rough time of it over the last several months. This is supposed be to be a distraction,” his mother whispered.

  “Mother, can’t she hear us whispering?” he whispered.

  “Maybe, but it’s loud in here and there are all sorts of spells and Skills active to protect the privacy of my personage.” She grinned up at him. “Some might even by my own.” She winked for some reason that eluded him.

  “Mother, I’m not taking her out on a date. We’ve talked about this. I was under the belief that my feelings toward this matter of random surprise dates was a matter of settled record.”

  “Mother, is it? Did I upset my baby boy?”

  Damn the queen!

  Her eyes literally twinkled for God’s sake.

  “Aw! Don’t pout. It’s not a date. This isn’t some scheme. I do take my children’s desires to heart regardless of other concerns. I’m just asking you to show her around the festival. Eat lots! The both of you have such ridiculous appetites after all. None of that matchmaking nonsense. Unless it naturally occurs. We never can tell how these things develop.”

  Thus, his mother mortified him further by suddenly shouting at the top of her lungs while waving like a baker woman trying to outdo the other loud baker woman across the street for the attention of potential customers.

  “Hey! Lera! Come here, my dear! Remember my little Harry? He wants to say ‘hello’!”

  The serving staff either looked bemused at the commotion or, in the case of a few young ladies and lords, seethed with narrow-eyed gazes at Lera.

  As for his friends?

  Dickie and Trajan cackled like witches, the traitors!

  He couldn’t give them a right, proper boxing around the ears because the beauty stood before him.

  Lera was even better up close.

  Eye contact! Eye contact! he thought desperately. Don’t look down! For God’s sake, man, do not look down!

  His mother said something to Lera, but he didn’t catch it on account of the rushing river inside his ears.

  He had fought in literal battles and this was what made him freeze?

  “Queen Lilly, did your son get hit in the head? I heard he was in the fighting,” Lera said.

  “Oh no. Not at all. He just gets like that when he’s nervous sometimes. You remember, don’t you?” his mother said.

  The story has been taken without consent; if you see it on Amazon, report the incident.

  “Not really.” Lera shrugged. “Last time I saw you was, like, five years ago?” She squinted up at him. “I don’t really remember the kid stuff.”

  She was taller up close.

  Tall for a woman, but still way shorter than him. Granted he was a very tall young man.

  “Well, young lady. What do you say to a break?”

  “Thanks, but nah. I’m alright helping around here. You don’t have to worry about keeping me entertained or whatever. It’s not like I’ll talk bad about you to my mom and dad. And I’d rather not be bothered, you know?”

  Scandalized gasps erupted from the eaves-dropping noble serving staff.

  Lera gave them all a flat stare.

  “A lot of them are kinda annoying, though. Not all of them.” She pitched her voice louder. “The ones that got offended by me calling them annoying are the ones that are annoying.”

  Seething intensified.

  His mother ignored it with a queen’s delicate ways.

  “Well, I must say I do have ulterior motives.” She pulled a small booklet from thin air and handed it to Lera alone with a cheap pen.

  Lera’s eyes narrowed as she took the booklet and pen like they were a viper and scorpion.

  “What’s this for?”

  “For reviews.”

  “Food?”

  “Yes! You and my son are one of the few handful that can sample most of what my people have worked hard on.”

  “I’ve been coming to this thing for years. I can probably give you a review on most of the stuff. I have a good memory.”

  “Ah! But that doesn’t account for the new blood, does it? Approximately thirty percent of the festival is new every year. Naturally, you’re free to sample what you wish. Familiar or new. Do what pleases you. Just don’t come back unless you’ve done them all.”

  Lera nodded without enthusiasm.

  He wasn’t sure that he could rely on his memory with a hundred percent accuracy, but his mental image of Lera was the exact opposite of this subdued young woman.

  The girl had been intense. Bossy and annoying. Wanting to spar and challenge in tests of strength, speed and athleticism.

  “Why don’t you change out of your uniform and meet my son out behind the tent near the griffins, my dear?”

  “Sure, Queen Lilly.”

  Lera gave him a sharp nod and headed past the counter and into the back.

  “Poor girl,” his mother whispered. “She’s actually using my title. That’s how I know she’s not feeling right.”

  “What happened… to her?”

  “Not to her. Details were sparse. A private family matter, you understand? There’s been a death. I wasn’t informed of much more beyond that.”

  “But, you’re the queen! They can’t just… I don’t know… not tell you!”

  “They can and they did or not as was the case. There are some things that a ruler isn’t entitled to regardless of how much power they can throw around. Indeed, a true ruler must strive to not throw power around in the first place. They must use what is required and little more lest they become a dictator.”

  An odd memory struck him.

  “Wasn’t she calling herself a ‘tyrant?”

  “Ah! Yes!” His mother pulled him down so she could tousle his hear. “You children do say the dumbest things!” She released him and shooed him toward the exit. “Now, boys,” she grabbed his friends before they could bolt. “Young lords of the realm must give more than they receive.”

  “Yes, your majesty,” Dickie said.

  “We remember.” Trajan nodded with uncharacteristic fervor.

  They tried to drag their feet, but the queen was implacable and unrelenting as she dragged them to the back.

  “We’ll get you changed into uniforms and have you serving right away. Trajan, I understand that you enjoy baking in your house kitchens?”

  “Not baking as such, your majesty. It’s more that I, uh, sample the goods as they come out of the oven. For quality, you see.”

  “Oh, I believe you. It certainly couldn’t be so that you could steal a march on the other children, would it?”

  “Not at all, your majesty.”

  “Well, that’s settled. It’s to the baking for you. And as for you, Richard?”

  “Your majesty I’m honored to serve in whatever capacity to see fit. It’s my duty to do the utmost in the name of my house.”

  “Your mother tells me that your balls power is coming along nicely, yes?”

  Those in earshot turned and hid smiles and laughter.

  The nobles flinty gazes showed delight at the arrow the queen had placed right in their quivers for future shots at Dickie.

  “I believe I’m doing well at learning its intricacies.”

  “Enough to guarantee the safety of small children?”

  “I, um, I believe so.”

  “Good! I’ll have you entertain the children. Perhaps a show of your skills? I seem to recall you’re quite good at footy. Perhaps, I can have you organize an impromptu game. There’s enough space in the grass behind my tent. Hmm? Best get turn those frowns upside down. Miss Cheaterley’s doesn’t open until well after sunset and they don’t allow children, so you boys weren’t ever going to get to go inside. See? Not a loss at all since you never had it in the first place.”

  Whatever terror’s his mother would inflict upon his companions were lost as they disappeared into the back.

  “Godspeed, lads. Better you than me.”

  He had to amend that as he made his way out of the tent and around to the back.

  Being alone with Lera began to feel like the more daunting prospect.

  He already knew that her beauty would make a fool of his capacity to form words and then speak them properly.

  And the fact that she was obviously in mourning was the other side of the vibrating blade.

  He could eat a tank shell to the face, but those blades could actually draw blood.

  “I’ve fought in real battles. This can’t be as hard,” he muttered like a mad man as he hurried.

  He found Lera already outside conversing with the griffin knights standing guard with their griffins.

  The blend of eagle and big cat were noble creatures.

  As fierce as they were loyal.

  Much larger than either eagle or big cat.

  They had to be to carry an armored knight.

  They screeched in greeting to him and bowed their heads.

  The knights did the same without the screeching.

  “Yes, Miss Lera, the chubs are in the same place as always,” one of the knights said. “Although, I expect the lines will be long at this time.”

  Lera sighed.

  “They’ve never not been for as long as I’ve been going here. Thanks, good sirs. I hope the rest of your day is a boring, lazy one.”

  “The same to you, miss.”

  One of the griffin’s tried to nip at Lera’s long black hair as she turned, but she snapped around faster than the eye could follow to bop the beak and wag a finger.

  “Not today, you vicious chicken-cat!” She grinned.

  The smile vanished just as quickly and she shot him a blank stare before striding away.

  “Good luck, Prince Gryph!” the knights chorused.

  “Luck for what? There’s nothing about this that needs luck.” He waved and hurried after her, trying not to stare at the tightness of her jeans. Yes, at the tightness and absolutely nothing else.

  “I’m seeing the chubs,” she said as he caught up.

  “Okay.”

  He wouldn’t mind ruffling the downy feathers of the baby griffins.

  The petting enclosure was, probably, the most popular attraction in the festival.

  Except, for Miss Cheaterley’s, but that was brand new and he only had what his friends had told him to go on.

  So, there was doubt on which was truly the most popular.

  Lera didn’t speak and he was wise enough to understand the trap of trying to fill the silence in.

  He didn’t forget his mother’s words.

  From his experience people in mourning didn’t want to talk about it, especially, with people they only knew in the vaguest of senses.

  Thus, he walked next to her at a respectable distance and smiled at the people that greeted him silently while looking at her with questions in their eyes.

  The other thing he did was to make a game of trying to spot his mother’s people doing the bodyguard thing. Not that he needed guarding. Not anymore.

  They were good.

  He thought he spotted a few flitting from shadow to shadow in the periphery of his much larger field of vision compared to the normal human.

  He definitely spotted the birds and squirrels in the trees, but those might’ve just been birds and squirrels, mostly. He didn’t doubt that a few flew and scampered about at the command of their masters.

  The crowds thickened as they moved deeper into the festival.

  His wings and his size did a lot of the work of keeping their way forward mostly clear with the exception of the odd child or two that ran up to him and asked if they could touch his wings.

  Strangely enough, Lera stopped while he endured the attention when she hadn’t stopped for the brave young men and women that tried to chat him up or asked for a picture or two.

  “It’s a good act,” she said after the last batch of shin-kickers finished invading his personal space.

  “Excuse me?”

  “I was watching your face. You didn’t look annoyed once. Your smile even reached your eyes. My dad says that’s important to watch out for.” She shrugged. “Don’t get it because why would I fucking care if someone’s smile reached their eyes?”

  “I believe he is suggesting that one should look for deception, which is a wise approach to all things.”

  “Except for kids?”

  “Oh, no. I’ve only recently stopped being a kid. And I still remember deception was quite a big tool in my shed, so to speak.”

  She snorted.

  “You’re not even eighteen. So, I’m sorry to be the one to tell you this, but… still a kid.” She jabbed a finger toward him.

  He almost retorted with the verifiable fact that he had just spent over two months in battles. Then he realized that was something a kid would say.

  “Correct. Technically. I can only endeavor to continue my efforts to leave the frivolities of my childhood behind as I grow into someone that can be of service to our people.”

  “Yeah, okay, buddy. You recite that in front of the mirror after you get out of bed in the morning? Or do you do it before bed at night?”

  He smiled his best.

  “Not those exact words, but something much like them. And I practiced both in the morning and at night. And a few times between. It’s nerve-wracking having to be ready to speak in front of people at any time. I found that practicing helped with that. I hope in a few more years to become as natural at it as my mum and older sister and brother.”

  Her eyes narrowed a moment before she crossed her arms underneath her breasts, which he was definitely not looking at. It wasn’t his fault that he had an eagle-like field of vision.

  Nope.

  He was definitely maintaining proper eye contact as per his training.

  “Hmph… you’re not even lying.” She turned, swishing her ponytail and flouncing away.

  Why would he lie about that?

  “Why would I lie about that,” he muttered.

  He had to hurry to catch up with her.

  The chub enclosure was indeed besiege by the mother of all lines.

  At a glance he judged it longer than the one for his mother’s bake shoppe.

  He made a note to inform her of that empirical fact the next time he saw her.

  A prince was allowed a measure of pettiness when the queen set upon him an onerous burden.

  The moment he had the thought he instantly felt ashamed.

  A burden?

  It was Lera that bore the true burden.

  He was inconvenienced for a day, while the loss of family lasted a lifetime.

  He had been lucky in that regard.

  All he had needed to see to understand the burden was to watch and listen to his mother whenever she mused on her own loss.

  The huge dome was mostly wire mesh with a dark cloth cover from the ground up to about twice the height of a tall man. The cover and the silence spells kept the baby griffins from being over-stimulated and frightened by the movement and noise of thousands of people.

  Lera took her place in the back of the line and gave him a challenging look.

  He shrugged and stood beside her at a proper distance.

  “Not going to use your princeliness to cut in line?”

  “No one likes a cutter.”

  “Yeah, but we’ll have to wait for almost three hours.”

  “I can read the time.”

  The time to entry was blinking tauntingly from the large digital display over the entrance gate.

  “I don’t mind waiting. We can at least watch the chubs.” He gestured at the other screens which showed live views of the interior.

  “You won’t get hungry?”

  His stomach rumbled with base betrayal.

  “I’m sorry. It’s my fault you didn’t get to grab something at your mom’s,” she said flatly.

  As a gentleman he refrained from pointing out that she, in fact, wasn’t sorry in the slightest.

  “You can leave and go eat or do whatever.” She gestured at the display. “I’ll be here awhile.”

  Like she wouldn’t use the opportunity to abandon him.

  Last he heard, she could fly now. Even if that was just a rumor, she could hop, skip and jump away to the other side of the festival in seconds.

  Which had him thinking why was she even humoring his presence?

  “Why don’t you just go elsewhere if you don’t want to be here?”

  She regarded him with narrowed eyes.

  The temperature suddenly grew hot as summer.

  The people around them startled.

  She took several deep breaths as the people eyed them and tried to increase distance.

  “Sorry.” She rolled her eyes. “I’m here because I have to be here, okay.”

  “Um… would you like to talk about it? I can listen and not open my mouth. My sister says it’s my most admirable quality.” He gave his best smile.

  She grabbed it, punched it and stomped it into the mud, metaphorically speaking, of course.

  “No.”

  “A valid response.”

  He tried not to notice the people around him wincing and grimacing on his behalf.

  The tense silence lasted fifteen minutes according to the display.

  He contented himself with watching the little chubs on the screens.

  They were fluffy, fuzzy little things.

  About the size of a small dog or a large cat.

  Their eagle heads were covered with downy feathers that he knew from experience to be soft enough to fill a pillow with.

  It gave them the appearance of giant cotton balls.

  The tiny wings on their backs were no different as they flapped around without any semblance of coordination or intent.

  Three hours passed like three hours.

  That the staff hadn’t come up to ask him if he wanted to skip the wait suggested that his mother’s people had whispered in their ears.

  Naturally, she approved of his little effort to be one of the people even if he, out of all the nobility, was one of the handful that could technically set themselves apart. He was certainly the only one with wings.

  Lera walked into the enclosure without a glance back as he remained in the waiting area.

  One of the smiling staff gestured for him to enter.

  “I don’t want to take all the chubs’ attentions.”

  She looked at him quizzically.

  “It’s the wings. The little lads and ladies think I’m their mum or something.”

  He watched Lera as she walked up to the top of a small rise in the grass next to an arrangement of rocks and branches like a playground gym but for the little chubs.

  She found an empty space and simply sat down with her back to him.

  Several little chubs approached her.

  They stalked low to the grass before clumsily pouncing just short of her back.

  She calmly began reaching back and scooping one up until she had an armful in her lap and arms.

  And thus, they stayed.

  Until the allotted fifteen minutes were up, Lera simply sat cross-legged on that small mound of grass-covered ground, cuddling with the mass of fluffy, fuzzy baby griffins as they fell asleep against her soothing warmth.