Diary of a Reluctant Ruler

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I went back upstairs, changing into smart riding clothes, complete with tie and done-up collar. My riding boots were back, immaculately restored from the muddy condition I’d left them in last time I’d rode, to soft black leather. I searched quickly for a scarf, but found after all, a blue ribbon left over from my days in plaits. I wound it round my wrist, then left for the stables.

“Hey,” I said, when I came across James.

“Hey back,” he said.

“Want a hand?” I asked, as he picked up Falcon’s tack.

“Sure,” he smiled.

“What will you pay me?” I asked.

“What will I pay you?!” he laughed.

“Yes, I demand payment.”

“Surely the reward is in the giving?” he asked.

“No,” I shook my head, “Doesn’t work.”

“Well, maybe I don’t need you help then,” he replied.

I huffed, annoyed, and heaved Falcon’s saddle from his grasp, giving him the silent treatment as we saddled him up. He snorted impatiently.

Eh?

The horse, not James you idiot.

Oh…

I sat down on an upturned bucket once I’d finished, as James checked the stirrups. He smiled at me, offering a hand to pull me up. I took it, heaving a sigh as I stood.

“I don’t do payment, but I do do spontaneous surprises. Care for one of those?” he asked.

“It really depends on the surprise,” I said, then muttered, “If it’s a crash from a balcony when I’m in front of parliament…”

James laughed then stooped and kissed me on the cheek quickly.

Oh.

O.o

I stood well, not shell-shocked, but kiss-shocked, my breath stolen again.

Stop gawking girl.

I closed my mouth then stumbled to catch up with him.

“So, do I have my lady’s favour?” James asked, when I’d reached him.

I remained breathless at his casual tone.

“You do,” I replied, winding the ribbon off my wrist.

James took it, his fingertips brushing mine.

“What do I do with it?” he asked after a moment.

“Here,” I said, taking it back.

I tied it loosely around his jacket sleeve, leaving the ends to flutter in the breeze.

“Thanks,” he said.

“Thank you,” I replied, meaning the kiss.

I took Falcon’s reins, and we moved off towards the course.

“Do you have princess duties?” James asked.

“When do I not?” I asked in reply.

“Should have known,” James replied.

Something slightly sarcastic entered his voice.

“By now, you know… you’d think you would.”

Oops, that was slightly more acidic than I'd wanted it...

An awkward silence reigned for a moment.

“Heard from Olly yet?” James asked.

“No actually.”

“I got an email the other day. They found a flat and she’s moving in straight away.”

“Wow,” I said.

“Wow indeed. It’s weird to think she’s growing up.”

“Growing up?!” I asked, “She’s the same age as me!”

“I know,” James said hurriedly, “She’s just my little sister, you know?”

“Yeah, guess I do,” I replied, thinking of Felix.

Jade popped up next to us, wearing smart black boots and trousers, with a long-sleeved white top. She looked like some sort of riding goddess.

I think I hate her…

Jealousy is such an ugly emotion.

Who you calling ugly?!

“Morning,” she said, “I’ll be tailing you today, if that’s ok.”

“That’s fine,” I replied, “Enjoy last night?”

Jade blushed slightly, her light honey-coloured skin darkening.

“Very much, thank you.”

“Good,” I smiled.

“I’m sorry if you felt I’d abandoned you,” she continued, “Nick was just…”

“Oh, don’t apologize!” I cried, “Really, don’t.”

“Ok,” she said, blushing again.

“Speak of the devil,” James yawned.

Nick broke away from a small group of people gathered around the garden-party-style setup a little way from the end of the course, and headed towards us.

“Hello,” he said, nodding at each of us, saving a large smile for Jade, “Hi.”

“Hi,” she said softly.

Aw…

Jealous much?

Does it show?

Like your face is painted green.

MY FACE IS GREEN?

No! I just- oh man…

I handed Falcon’s reins over to James.

“See you in a bit?” he asked.

“If I get a moment,” I replied.

I headed over to the group, where a number of people were sitting, chatting quietly. I recognised Captain Winchester, and a few of the ladies from my Ball, though most were dimly recognisable faces. All were arrayed in crisp riding gear, except a few spouses decked out in more casual clothing.

“Princess Meredith!” cried one, heading over to me.

I headed over, greeting her warmly with the suddenly remembered name.

“Lady Clarissa, it’s lovely to see you,” I said, thanking grandmother for attaching pictures to the profiles I had studied the other day, “How are your daughters?”

“Marvellous thank you.”

“Cassandra is just starting at Keats I hear?”

“Yes, it’s a fine institution,” Lady Clarissa replied.

You obviously haven’t been there on April Fool’s Day.