what?'
'Well . . . the equines we've managed to find, they're very skittish and unused to heavy work. I worry that they might bolt or, worse still, overturn the carriage. It would be ironic, would it not, to have saved you from the Brigands, only to put your life in danger again?'
'Hmm.' Princess Kerin considered for a moment, studying the colourful design on the side of Sebastian's wagon as she did so. Then she brightened a little. 'No matter, I will ride with the elfling,' she said.
Sebastian glared at her. 'What?' he said, horrified. Then, after another nudge from Cornelius, he attempted to moderate his tone. 'But . . . your highness, my humble caravan is not really suitable for somebody of breeding . . .'
'I realize that,' she assured him. 'But I'm sick and tired of silence and would have some conversation.' She gestured at the title on the caravan. 'Besides, a self-proclaimed Prince of Fools should at least be good for a little entertainment. I'll just get my travel cloak.' She turned and walked back towards her carriage.
Sebastian stared after her glumly. 'Oh, that's just perfect,' he said. 'Now I'll be stuck with her for the rest of the journey'
'Don't tell her any of your own jokes,' said Max. 'If you absolutely must tell one, stick to your father's material. It's safer.'
'And keep a civil tongue in your head,' Cornelius reminded him. 'We need to stay in her good books.'
'Yes, all right, all right! Honestly, you two act as though I don't know how to talk to people. I'm a jester, don't forget. I have the gift of the gab!'
Max and Cornelius exchanged worried glances.
'We're doomed,' muttered Max wearily. 'We are most definitely doomed.'
They were on the move again, but Sebastian was somewhat perturbed. Why had Princess Kerin forsaken the comfort of her own carriage to ride alongside him? And why did she insist on asking so many stupid questions?
She sat beside him now, chattering on about various bits of nonsense like some gossiping shepherd girl – not at all regal as he'd always imagined a princess should be, but noisy and irritating. Oh, she was pretty enough, perhaps more than just pretty. But so spoiled! If she hadn't been who she was, Sebastian would gladly have pushed her off the caravan into the dust.
The landscape was changing, the lush rolling grasslands occasionally dotted with small copses of tall slender trees. The higher branches were thickly hung with clusters of dark red fruit, and flocks of big black birds were competing noisily for it, their cawing a hideous shriek overhead.
Sebastian leaned out from his seat and glanced back at Cornelius, hunched in the driver's seat of the carriage, trying to keep the two frisky equines under control as he followed in Sebastian's tracks. Even at this distance the manling's face held a certain expression, as though silently reminding Sebastian to watch what he said. Meanwhile, Princess Kerin kept right on yapping.
' . . . so I said to her, the colour of a dress may be of no importance to you, my dear, but when it comes to matters of the court, I like to think I know what I'm talking about. She soon quietened down, I can tell you!'
Sensing a pause, Sebastian swung back into an upright position. 'I'm sorry?' he said. 'Your highness,' he added, as an afterthought.
'I do believe you weren't even listening to me!' said Princess Kerin crossly.
'I . . . I was just . . . I thought those equines were going to start playing up. Please, do go on, Princess, it's . . . fascinating. It's not every day a simple man like myself has the opportunity to learn about a royal court.'
But the princess was glowering at him like a spoiled child. 'You're not really a man at all, are you?' she observed flatly. 'Not in the usual sense of the word. I believe you're what people call a "breed".'
Sebastian felt his face colour a little but he made a heroic effort to remain courteous. 'My mother is elvish,' he told
'Well . . . the equines we've managed to find, they're very skittish and unused to heavy work. I worry that they might bolt or, worse still, overturn the carriage. It would be ironic, would it not, to have saved you from the Brigands, only to put your life in danger again?'
'Hmm.' Princess Kerin considered for a moment, studying the colourful design on the side of Sebastian's wagon as she did so. Then she brightened a little. 'No matter, I will ride with the elfling,' she said.
Sebastian glared at her. 'What?' he said, horrified. Then, after another nudge from Cornelius, he attempted to moderate his tone. 'But . . . your highness, my humble caravan is not really suitable for somebody of breeding . . .'
'I realize that,' she assured him. 'But I'm sick and tired of silence and would have some conversation.' She gestured at the title on the caravan. 'Besides, a self-proclaimed Prince of Fools should at least be good for a little entertainment. I'll just get my travel cloak.' She turned and walked back towards her carriage.
Sebastian stared after her glumly. 'Oh, that's just perfect,' he said. 'Now I'll be stuck with her for the rest of the journey'
'Don't tell her any of your own jokes,' said Max. 'If you absolutely must tell one, stick to your father's material. It's safer.'
'And keep a civil tongue in your head,' Cornelius reminded him. 'We need to stay in her good books.'
'Yes, all right, all right! Honestly, you two act as though I don't know how to talk to people. I'm a jester, don't forget. I have the gift of the gab!'
Max and Cornelius exchanged worried glances.
'We're doomed,' muttered Max wearily. 'We are most definitely doomed.'
They were on the move again, but Sebastian was somewhat perturbed. Why had Princess Kerin forsaken the comfort of her own carriage to ride alongside him? And why did she insist on asking so many stupid questions?
She sat beside him now, chattering on about various bits of nonsense like some gossiping shepherd girl – not at all regal as he'd always imagined a princess should be, but noisy and irritating. Oh, she was pretty enough, perhaps more than just pretty. But so spoiled! If she hadn't been who she was, Sebastian would gladly have pushed her off the caravan into the dust.
The landscape was changing, the lush rolling grasslands occasionally dotted with small copses of tall slender trees. The higher branches were thickly hung with clusters of dark red fruit, and flocks of big black birds were competing noisily for it, their cawing a hideous shriek overhead.
Sebastian leaned out from his seat and glanced back at Cornelius, hunched in the driver's seat of the carriage, trying to keep the two frisky equines under control as he followed in Sebastian's tracks. Even at this distance the manling's face held a certain expression, as though silently reminding Sebastian to watch what he said. Meanwhile, Princess Kerin kept right on yapping.
' . . . so I said to her, the colour of a dress may be of no importance to you, my dear, but when it comes to matters of the court, I like to think I know what I'm talking about. She soon quietened down, I can tell you!'
Sensing a pause, Sebastian swung back into an upright position. 'I'm sorry?' he said. 'Your highness,' he added, as an afterthought.
'I do believe you weren't even listening to me!' said Princess Kerin crossly.
'I . . . I was just . . . I thought those equines were going to start playing up. Please, do go on, Princess, it's . . . fascinating. It's not every day a simple man like myself has the opportunity to learn about a royal court.'
But the princess was glowering at him like a spoiled child. 'You're not really a man at all, are you?' she observed flatly. 'Not in the usual sense of the word. I believe you're what people call a "breed".'
Sebastian felt his face colour a little but he made a heroic effort to remain courteous. 'My mother is elvish,' he told
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