The Wronged Princess - Book I - Page 95/133

Shock rendered Cinderella speechless. Tears gathered in her eyes. She shook her head. "You've no need to apologize, Pricilla. I vow, this past fortnight has more than made up for our differences. Someday, you may find it is I who shall be asking for forgiveness."

"Don't be ridiculous, Cinde. You are by far the Hestia of the three of us," Essie scolded.

"Oh, oui, bashful and always portrayed as sitting. The perfect portrait," Cinderella muttered under her breath disgusted.

"What god do you suppose I might represent, Cinde?" The question from Pricilla surprised her, as did the arm slipping through her own.

"Well." Cinderella hedged. "At the risk of offending your delicate sensibilities, Pricilla, I think you remind me of Zeus. He was the ruler of all mankind. A leader, if you will."

"Ah, oui. I believe I may count that as a compliment." Pricilla smiled, her eyes still on Hestia.

"Of the highest kind, I assure you." She meant it too.

"Enough of this somber moodiness," Essie said brightly, darting to the open carriage. "Let us be on our way. I believe there is an archery event scheduled to begin in less than an hour. I have every intention of placing my wager on Pricilla. She is a crack shot. Hurry, the other carriages are moving out."

*****

At the perimeter of the west lawn, Prince observed the afternoon's entertainments. He had yet to locate Cinderella and the other two. He'd grown accustomed to searching them out. Their carriage had yet to return from the garden outing. He, Arnald, and Alessandro had made their way back long before the others.

Prince's reasons included limiting de Lecce's access to Cinderella.

The servants were busy arranging targets for the upcoming archery bout and guests were beginning to meander their way in that direction. de Lecce emerged from the west doors followed his younger brother, Niccòlo.

The resemblance between the brothers was striking. Niccòlo's tall frame, dark hair, and eyes would prove sound competition in the not so far future. Prince found himself very happy Niccòlo was much too young at ten and seven right now. He pushed away thoughts either de Lecce could pose a threat to the Prince of Chalmers. What an absurd notion.

Another ten minutes crept past before he spotted his quarries. All three of them. Prince set off down the path to meet their carriage, a quick smile touching his lips. The gray skies parted, teasing him with a sliver of blue sky.

The vision of Cinderella in a frock of soft cream trimmed with shimmering bronze ribbons had the heavens parting. If she was his bride he'd never allow her to wear brown again. No matter how rich the hue. She deserved rainbows, with the pot of gold at the base. He hauled himself up on the path stunned by such inappropriate thoughts.