I had meant to spend the next day on the centaurs' island, but the entire palace was abuzz with preparations for the Ayorthaian delegation, all of which seemed to require my approval, and I could find no opportunity to slip away. I'm sure I gave them all satisfactory answers to their questions, but my mind kept wandering, thinking about how to find the perfect centaur for Ella.

He should be young, certainly – the older ones tended to be harder to train and more reluctant to leave their home. This would mean that Ella wouldn't be able to ride him, at least not right away. I wondered suddenly if she'd ever learned to ride. Many young ladies of the city never did – they had little enough need to leave their elegant homes without a carriage, and the idea of riding for pleasure never occurred. Of course, Ella wasn't like other girls, I already knew that. If she didn't ride, I was sure she'd be willing to learn. Perhaps I could offer to teach her.

This idea presented enough pleasurable thoughts of times to come that I completely missed Francis's question – something about a change to the Ayorthaian nobles' itinerary to accommodate a tour of a palace. He had to repeat his question several times before I gathered my wits enough to respond.

The next morning, I rose early, hoping to spend at least a few hours choosing and getting to know a centaur colt before I went to present him to Ella and explain the necessity of the meeting with Captain Fitzwilliam. I hoped she didn't already have plans today. Yet another thing I should have thought of earlier.

The keeper of the menagerie seemed bemused at my request for a centaur, but he acceded readily enough, lowering a short bridge to allow me onto the island. Almost immediately I was swarmed by a flock of baby griffins, begging for treats. I smiled, petting them for a few minutes until they discovered I had no food aside from a bushel of apples and lost interest and flew off in the short hops that were all they could manage with their stubby, clipped wings.

The centaurs were shier, though I could feel them watching me from the shelter of the trees. I thought a moment, then placed my bushel in a nearby sylata bush – the centaurs disliked the sticky purple flowers, which tended to get caught in their manes, and probably wouldn't go in after my treats. I didn't want to lose all my bait at once.

Thus prepared, I held out an apple in each hand, giving a low, tuneless whistle. They approached then, cautiously. I counted three colts young enough for training, leading the group.

One was bolder than the rest, trotting ahead stop only a few feet from where I stood, her eyes fixed on the apple in my right hand. I spoke then, in a low, soothing voice, inching closer, the apple in my outstretched hand. "Yes, you're a pretty girl, aren't you? Would you like an apple? You'll have to come and get it." She eyed me a minute before closing the remaining distance between us and snatching the apple from my hand. Emboldened by her success, the other two colts, as well as several adults, came forward to surround me.

I threw the apple in my other hand, and they all took off after it, save for the one who was still crunching in front of me, and another colt, who stood at my side. I could have sworn he had a beseeching look in his eyes. "Hello, boy. Didn't want to join the race with the others?" He cocked his head at me, and I laughed. "Fair enough. Looks like today's your lucky day." I grabbed another apple from my hiding place, and he lost no time grabbing it, though he remained almost close enough to touch. Even as he ate, the juice dripping down his smooth chin, his eyes darted between me and the bush, hoping for more.

I considered the two centaurs before me. The others were still clumped a little way off around the single apple. These two were – what? Smarter? Braver? Friendlier? However it was, I found myself discounting the third colt to make my choice between these two. The mare had finished her apple now, and she snorted, seeming to consider whether it was worth approaching me again. Her hide was dappled, her mane a chestnut color that gleamed in the sunlight. She smiled at me vacantly, but still kept her distance. I was sure this reserve would vanish with familiarity, though, and there was an appealing gentleness to her movements.

The young stallion, on the other hand, had come forward to butt his head against my arm. I offered him another apple, and he grinned. He had the beginnings of speed, no doubt about that, his hide darker and richer than his sister's, apart from a small tan star on his chest. My glance wavered between them. "Would one of you like to meet my Ella? You'll like her. I'm sure she'll have lots of treats for you. What do you think?" The one on the left cocked his head again, and I fancied that there was a brightness to his eyes. It was an irrational reason to make such a decision, I knew – they had no more idea what I was saying than ability to respond. Nonetheless, he was my choice.

When next he approached for an apple, I held it just out of his reach and slipped a rope around his neck. Startled, he reared up, whinnying plaintively with that odd sound of a horse's noises reverberating in a human voice. The rest of the herd galloped over to his aid, but I wasn't overly worried. Centaurs were peaceable in nature, even during moments of stress. I layered my voice with as much calm as I could find. "Steady, boy. I'm not going to hurt you. We're going to go see Ella. Won't that be nice? Yes, that's right. Steady, now." I rested one hand on his mane, the other gently pulling on his rope, leading him toward the area where the bridge would be let down.

The real trick was leaving without leading the rest of the herd out with me. I had a feeling the keeper of the menagerie wouldn't be too pleased with that. Wrapping the rope firmly around one hand, I lifted the bushel out of the bush, spilling the rest of the apples out on the ground. The herd fell on them, including the one on the end of my rope, who seemed to have forgotten his trauma. I laughed. "Come on, you. You can take your apple with you if you like." He did, looking quite a bit happier as we made our way off the island. I paused. "In fact, maybe that's what we'll call you. Apple." Apple whinnied his agreement.

. . .

An hour with Apple in the royal pastures was enough to ascertain that was, indeed, quite fast, and I was sure that with training and a bit of time to mature, he would be a wonderful mount for Ella. The image was a captivating one, Ella astride the tall, dark stallion, her lovely hair streaming out behind her as she pelted along at top speed.

I wondered if she would object to my naming him. He seemed already to turn at the sound of his name, but perhaps, living in a menagerie, he had simply learned the name of his favorite treat. Either way, if she liked another name better, it certainly wasn't too late.

When the noon bell rang, I took Apple by the rope once more and we walked together in the direction of Sir Peter's manor. I had been there only once, for a party Lady Eleanor had thrown shortly after her marriage, but I remembered the way well enough. I wondered if Ella would be happy to see me. Would she be surprised? I had mentioned my plan of catching her a centaur when we had last parted, but perhaps she hadn't taken me at my word. She had surprised me enough, that day, that I wished to return the favor, though of course not if the surprise was unwelcome. What if she didn't want him? What if she thought such a gift, from a man she'd known less than a fortnight, and her prince to boot, was inappropriate? Was it inappropriate? I had never really considered the possibility.

I had begun to worry in earnest by the time the manor was visible over the crest of the hill. But I couldn't turn around now. I was sure that however Ella reacted to Apple, it would surprise me.

I placed one hand on Apple's mane and knocked at the door, wiping my suddenly sweaty palms on my tunic. After a few tense minutes, the housekeeper answered the door, her eyes going wide when she recognized me. She stared at me, twisting one braid, before seeming to recall herself and ducking into a very pretty curtsy. "Your Royal Highness. We're honored, I'm sure. What may I do for you?"

"I came to see Ella – the young Lady Eleanor. I brought her a gift. Is she at home?"

She just stood there a moment more, looking flustered, before looking up at me once more, not quite meeting my eyes. "If you'll excuse me for just a moment, Your Royal Highness… oh, I'm sorry, won't you come in to wait?"

I glanced over at Apple. "Thank you, but I'd rather wait here, if you don't mind."

The poor girl nodded and all but fled down the entryway, with many backward glances. It wasn't long before she came into view again, pulling a frizzy-haired old woman in an apron behind her. I could hear the woman complaining as they approached. "Bertha, what on earth do you mean, dragging me all over the house when I have dinner to be getting on? If my soufflé falls, I might have to tell Sir Peter your talents are better suited to Dame Olga's household, you see if I don't. He'd listen to me too, you know. Even he knows that…" at that moment, she caught sight of me in the doorway with Apple, and her voice trailed off. This, I guessed, was Mandy. I'd never met her, but I'd heard enough about her from Lydia that the apron and no-nonsense demeanor were a dead giveaway. "Your Highness. What can we do for you?"

"I was just telling your housekeeper here, I came to see Ella."

Her face shifted rapidly through several expressions, before settling into something like pity. "I'm very sorry, Your Highness, but Ella isn't here."

My heart sank. Of course, she had a life, she wasn't just sitting at home waiting for me to call. "Do you know when she might be back?"

"It will be some months, I expect."

"Months! Where has she gone?"

"Her father thought it best that she spend some time at finishing school."

"Finishing school!" I had very little idea what went on in such places, except that they were supposed to turn maidens into proper young ladies. The idea of meeting someone like Ella only to have her snatched away to become a proper young lady was almost unbearable. I spoke without thinking. "Why does she need to be finished? There's nothing wrong with her to start with!"

Mandy's face twisted into a wry grin. "Nevertheless, that's where she's gone."

"But… why? When did she leave?"

"Yesterday morning, Your Highness." Yesterday morning. Why had she not mentioned this when I'd seen her? Surely she must have already known she was leaving. Did I mean so little to her? I checked myself. Yes, of course I meant so little to her. What I liked most about her was that she didn't treat me differently because I was a prince. She would feel no compulsion to share her plans with a near-stranger. I felt ridiculous, standing here at her door claiming a relationship with her that I clearly didn't have.

Mandy, meanwhile, raised one bushy eyebrow at my companion. "Are you in the habit of taking livestock about with you for visits, Your Highness?"

I blushed, but I could think of no way but the truth to explain Apple's presence. Besides, I had caught him for Ella, and even if she cared little about me, she might like to have him when she got back. "This is Apple. He's a gift for Ella. When she gets back."

Both her eyebrows shot up at this news. "Well, that's very kind of you, I'm sure, but we have nowhere to put him. Our lands are too small for a growing centaur, and I have no idea what I would do with him in any case."

I blushed again, realizing I'd never considered this possibility, never considered anything really, apart from my delight in catching him for Ella. "Of course. Well, I'd be more than happy to raise him for her in the royal pastures. We have plenty of room for him to run and graze, and when Ella returns she can visit him there."

"Thank you, Your Highness. I'll let her know. I'm sure she'll be thrilled."

"You write to her?"

There was an odd sort of hesitation then, though it seemed a simple enough question. But when she spoke, it was in the same no-nonsense tone, and I was sure I must have been imagining things. "Yes. You might find it strange, a noble young lady corresponding with the cook, but I was close to her mother, and I try to watch out for the lass."

"Yes, of course. I didn't mean to imply anything. I think you're acquainted with our cook, Lydia?"

"Ah yes, Lydia. She's a good sort of woman, though a little too liberal when it comes to sauces. Come to think of it, she's mentioned you a fair amount."

I wondered what she'd been saying. "Yes. Well. If you wouldn't mind, could you be sure to tell Ella the colt's name? It's Apple." If she wanted to rename him, I'd like to know soon, though I wasn't sure how I might come to know such a thing. If nothing else, this might remind her of our last meeting, I thought, remembering my absurd pleasure in my apples. That was always assuming that she hadn't already forgotten about me, what with learning to curtsy properly.

"I'll be sure to do that. Would he like an apple? Before he goes? Bertha, make yourself useful and fetch something from the kitchens. " The housekeeper, Bertha I presumed, started and ran off.

"Would you like to pet him? He likes it if you scratch him just there, at the small of his back." She did so, crooning to him gently.

"He is a beauty, isn't he? Ah, thank you, Bertha. There you are, Master Apple."

"Well. Thank you for passing the message along, and for the apple. We'd best be going, I think."

"I'm sure Ella will appreciate it." I could feel her appraising eyes on my back as I turned to walk away. "And Your Highness?"

I turned back. "Yes?"

"Don't worry. She'll be back soon enough."

I went through another version of the centaur scene that absolutely didn't work, which at least partly accounts for the delay. Hopefully the extra long chapter makes up for things a bit. I love Mandy so much. I'm going to see if I can get away with sneaking in another conversation between the her and Char before this is all over. Also, this is where the time frame starts to get a little muddled. It's not entirely clear how long Ella was on the road, or how long Mandy's letter was in the book before Ella read it. This is all my best guess/what works best with the story I'm telling. I'll probably also end up fudging when exactly it is that he writes the letter to his father about military duty, because I have a lot more ideas for Char's military duty than about him hanging out ruling the country for months while Ella's at school. As always, I love my reviewers, and feedback is still strongly encouraged. Up next: the Ayorthaian delegation arrives.