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to get you a haircut along the way.”
    Nip froze in terror and Bron smiled, running a hand through his floppy hair. “I’ll see what I can do, Princess. In the meantime, we’ll take our leave to allow you time to change. The weather’s cool today, like the gods have turned their backs on us.”
    “Let them. We don’t need their help.” Danika bluffed and slapped her nightshift down against the wind. Honestly, her attendants would have a heart attack if they saw her now.
    Bron bowed, pulling the boy away. “Come, gallant knight. Let’s see what these lute players eat for breakfast.”
    “Yes, sir.” Nip bowed and winked at Danika before skipping to join him.
     
     

Chapter 5
     
    Party of Four
     
    A light jig danced on the wind as Danika approached the carriage. She wanted to scream for the song to stop. Not only had she listened to enough music, the playful tones mocked the gravity of the journey ahead. If only she could find the source of the tune, she’d bash in that particular player’s lute.
    When she arrived, Bron had loaded most of the bags of rice, filling both passenger seats and the underside of the carriage where he’d stored the wyvern’s head. He’d already hooked up their horses, and Nip sat in the driver’s seat, pretending to whip the reins.
    “What about your war trophy? You cannot leave a good wyvern head behind.” Danika smiled.
    “I gave it to the minstrels.” Bron heaved the last bag of rice into the carriage. It plopped on top of the velvety seats, stirring up moss dust. He turned and winked. “Maybe King Troubadir will make another table.”
    “A horrid table indeed.” Danika rolled her eyes. “I cannot even imagine.”
    “Maybe you can discuss it with him now.” Bron gestured over her shoulder.
    King Troubadir had arrived, flanked by three minstrels on either side. Their long cloaks brushed the tall grasses behind them. They were dressed in formal robes, flutes hung from silver cords around their waists. Not one of them carried a lute. Valorian hadn’t come.
    His absence surprised her. Why wouldn’t the prince bid them farewell on their journey? Maybe his affections didn’t run as deep as she thought. A newfound sense of freedom from obligation poured over her, but an underlying current of disappointment irked her as well. Did no man seek her attentions?
    “Good morning, Princess Danika.” Troubadir smiled and extended his hand. Danika bowed before him, taking his hand in hers.
    “I trust your quarters provided sufficient rest and relaxation.”
    Behind her, Bron grunted and spoke under his breath, “Maybe a little too much.”
    Danika cleared her throat to silence him. She didn’t need him reminding her of her lay-about late morning nap. She blamed her exhaustion on the previous day’s terrors.
    “Yes, my cottage exceeded my expectations, indeed.” She released his hand, eager to be rid of it.
    The king curled his delicate fingers around a crystal flute as if from habit. “Wonderful. As you can see, I’ve provided more than enough rice.”
    “My thanks, Your Highness.” Danika counted the horses. They needed all four to pull the carriage. Where were her and Nip’s mounts?
    “Excuse me for a moment, Your Highness.” She bowed and strode over to Bron.
    He busied himself cleaning the horses’ hooves with a silver pick. He glanced over his shoulder. “Yes, Princess?”
    “Where are the rest of the horses?”
    Bron shrugged. “The king said he’d see to it.”
    “Doesn’t look like he’s seen to anything with four legs.” Danika huffed and crossed her arms. Time slipped through her fingers and she couldn’t wait around for forgetful minstrels. Did they plan to keep her waiting until her kingdom fell to ruin?
    Bron straightened, meeting her eye. “Do you want me to talk with him?”
    “No. I’ll straighten out our arrangements.”
    “Hi-ya, great stallions, on to battle!” Nip shouted from behind them.
    Bron chuckled, “Looks like we have the