“That wouldn’t be wise,” Dylon hurried to say, as King Alfred smiled and nodded. “If the roads between kingdoms aren’t safe for a revered healer, who should be sacrosanct, can they be safe for a princess who could be kidnapped, perhaps taking all the farming wealth of Westerland in ransom?”
From the frowns the king and Comyn exchanged, Arden had the
clear impression they weren’t aware of such danger. Then again, Ambrose’s
injury was news for them.
“My grandfather fully intends to come visit you as soon as he is
well,” he continued, and held out the sealed parchment packet. “I will leave
you to read in private.”
“You will stay and enjoy the festivities this evening, won’t
you?” Queen Elise asked, as Dylan bowed and turned to head to the door.
“Thank you, Highness. That is very kind.” His gaze locked with
Arden’s, and she flushed as she realized that her answer was important to him.
“Yes, please. Do you like to dance?” She nearly giggled when Dylon flushed and he gave a tiny shrug.
“I don’t get many chances, but yes, I do.” He grinned. “I’m not sure how good I am.”
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