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14

CLOVER

All I see is Henrik.

Henrik leaning close to Camellia. Henrik sharing a long look with her.

Henrik holding her hand.

I’m going to be sick.

Turning from the pier, I breathe in the moist sea air and almost run right into Lawrence.

“Clover,” he exclaims softly, taking my shoulders. “Are you all right?”

“I’m fine,” I say brightly, forcing a smile. “Just a little seasick.”

He raises an eyebrow. “Don’t you have to be on the sea for that?”

“Obviously not,” I mutter. “I’m going to stand with Pranmore.”

Looking concerned even though he likely knows the reason for my distress, he lets me go.

Pranmore waits near the horses—ours, not his. He still refuses to ride unless it’s absolutely necessary.

Lavender and Hyacinth have cornered him, the poor man, and he looks like a spooked deer. Calla and Barret are nearby, flirting with each other. Oddly, Cortana stands with Pranmore as well, and the guard seems slightly enamored herself.

She flinches when she sees me, dropping her eyes and looking properly ashamed. We haven’t spoken since Camellia tried to pin her blood magic crimes on me. The guard believed I was guilty, and I’m sure she well knows she’s not my favorite person—especially since my innocence has been proven.

“Your Highness.” Like a coward, she bows her head and hurries to join her fellow guards.

“What did Cortana want?” I ask even though my mind is still on Henrik.

Lavender scowls. “She said she twisted her wrist during morning exercises a few days ago. She wanted Master Pranmore to look at it.”

Judging from Lavender’s tone, that’s not all the guard wants from Pranmore.

He shifts, highly uncomfortable in the strange position in which he’s found himself.

“I need to speak to Master Pranmore,” I say to the girls. “Excuse us, please.”

Lavender puts on a pout, but I ignore it.

“I cannot go far,” Barret says gently, wisely picking up on my bad mood. “But I will give you privacy. Should you need me, I will be close.”

I smile, thankful I chose him as my knight. He doesn’t smother, but he’s attentive. I give Calla an approving look, wholeheartedly approving of her choice. She smiles back, biting her lip.

When they leave, I turn to Pranmore. “You’ve become quite the ladies’ man.”

He lifts his eyes to the sky, jumping when his large rack of antlers brushes against the mare behind him. He turns, apologizing to the animal who couldn’t care less.

“I don’t understand it,” he says when he looks back. “I’ve never been this popular. I suppose it’s because I am a novelty.”

“You’re not a novelty,” I say sharply. “They’ve just realized your worth. You were obviously wasted amongst your people.”

He gives me a doubtful smile. “My self-esteem is fine, Clover. There is no reason to feed it.” His gaze sharpens on me. “What happened?”

“Nothing,” I lie. “I was just feeling a little sick to my stomach, and I hoped you could do something about it.”