A large gilt carriage stood before the gates of the royal castle. Two white horses were attached to the front. They bore their reins with pride, waiting patiently for the coachman to take up his whip. There wasn't a horse in Kyrria who could match their noble line of duty. The coachman had ascended to his perch and was now only awaited the word from King Jerrold.

He was within the carriage, with the queen, Daria. She continued to peer out the window, offering slight impatient huffs and readjusting her seat. Finally, she said, "Jerrold, if we do not leave within five minutes…"

With a sigh, the king opened the door of the carriage, and the footman hurried to help him out. Jerrold took no notice. He strode around to the back of the carriage and said in a loud voice, "Char!"

Some forty feet away, a young man was gazing over the town of Frell. He turned his head slightly when he heard his name, but was otherwise inattentive.

King Jerrold approached him. "Come, Char. We're leaving."

Char only looked thoughtful. "Father," he said slowly. "I wondered if we might stop in town before we depart."

"In town?"

"At Dame Olga's manor."

Jerrold raised an eyebrow. "Dame Olga? What on earth for?"

"I have some business with one of her daughters. Her stepdaughter," he amended. "Ella."

"She's expecting you?" Jerrold's voice became reproachful. "Char, you knew you were to leave today—"

"No, sir, she's not expecting me," said Char. "I—I've become friendly with her, lately, and I wanted to say good-bye."

"This is rather last-minute, Char."

"I called at the manor yesterday and the day before."

"And?"

"Her sisters told me she was not at home, but—"

"Then she's not at home. The Ayorthans do not take kindly to tardiness."

"But, Father, she was there, I know she was!" said Char, raising his voice. "She was avoiding me. For what reason I cannot fathom, although her sisters are two of the most spiteful creatures on the earth, I wouldn't be surprised to find they've been holding her in her room—"

"That's enough, Charmont," said Jerrold, bristling at his son's impertinent tone. "You have no reason to suspect these girls of—"

"But I saw her in her window!"

"That is enough."

Char fell silent. His expression was pained.

"I will not argue with you. You may by all means write to this Ella when we reach Ayortha, but if we delay our journey any farther we risk arriving after sundown. A first impression, once made, is hard removed."

"Father, it would only take a minute."

"We are leaving now," said Jerrold. "That's final."

"But Father, I'm sure she's there," said Char. "I could insist to see her. A letter just isn't the same. I want to see her, to say good-bye, to know whether she's—"

"Charmont," said Jerrold. "I will not be spoken to like that!"

The tone of voice made Char check himself. He realized suddenly that he had answered his father back at least twice in the last few exchanges, and he made a face, ashamed of himself. His father commanded respect, and Char was being fairly insolent.

"I want you seated across from me in the next thirty seconds, or this will not be a pleasant journey for anyone," said Jerrold. "Do I make myself clear?"

It was more of a statement than an actual question. "Yes, sir," said Char.

Jerrold turned on his heel and marched back to the carriage. Char let out a long, slow breath. For a brief, wild second, he considered running. If his parents really couldn't spare the time, they could leave without him. He was fast on foot, and if he cut through the menagerie…

He quickly returned to his senses. There were times for frivolity and times for responsibility. He had a duty to his kingdom. The alliance between Ayortha and Kyrria was one that needed to be upheld, and it was his turn to assist. He was the prince, after all, and that came before Ella. Surely she'd understand. Perhaps she knew of his attempts. Perhaps she truly was being kept prisoner by her witch of a sister, Hattie. Char would write to her. It was all he could do. The start of a letter was already beginning to compose itself in his head.

"Charmont."

He started. With one last, rueful glance over his shoulder, Char headed back to where his parents waited.