Coralina wasn't ready. Her stomach clenched and a frantic desire to run seized her limbs. Even with poor vision, she knew he recognized her. His expression was neither surprised nor dismayed, as if he'd been expecting this and wanted to get it behind him.

Gord gave a stiff nod. "Princess."

They faced each other, an arm's length apart, as wagons rattled past their heels and peasants jostled around them. Coralina was keenly aware the three girls had stopped to watch, as well as a few stragglers. She hated them all.

Finding it painful to meet his eyes, Coralina dropped her gaze. Gord held a bundle of new cloth under his arm. Yellow cloth.

"Is... is that for Pipsy?" Coralina asked.

Gord looked puzzled. "What?"

Coralina shook her head. "Never mind." Must be for a blanket or tunic. How stupid of her to think....

"I'm very busy, Princess," Gord said. "Was there something you wanted to say?"

Coralina sighed. She didn't know how to do this any way except bluntly. "Can't we... can't we be friends?" she mumbled, staring at his boots.

"No," Gord said.

A burst of snickers from the peasant girls.

Hot tears washed over Coralina's eyes. She wasn't sure what she'd expected. That he'd show some regret, perhaps? But no. He really and truly hated her.

Something seemed to prick her conscience, suggesting she should speak. But what could she say? I never meant to hurt you. Actually, she had. I think I'm in love with you. He would never believe her.

Coralina turned away, not knowing where she'd go. Far from him. As far as she could.

"Princess...."

She turned back.

Gord's eyes flitted to the peasant girls, to the stragglers watching them. He stepped close to Coralina, lowering his voice to reach her ears alone. "I heard of your attack. And that it happened just after the play. It crushed me to learn of my cousin's involvement, that he was capable of such cruelty. Please know that I had no hand in it."

"I know." Coralina took a breath and asked a question that days of solitude had presented to her. "Your wife—she went after other men, didn't she?"

Gord grimaced. "I never should have mentioned her. But yes. And like a fool, I pretended not to notice. Then she ran off with one of them. Away from me. Away from Pipsy."

Coralina swelled with outrage. That anyone could leave Pipsy, that small, gentle girl....

"When I heard of her death...." Gord paused as anguish pinched his brow. "Well... it meant, at least, that Pipsy wouldn't be hurt. She'll never know the real reason her mother left us."

He stepped back, putting space between them. The story sat heavily in his eyes, aging his features. Coralina now wished the wife was still alive—so she could kill her.

"Thank you," Coralina said. "I know...." A burning blush rose on her cheeks. "I know you don't like me. But if I can't be a friend to you..., may I be a friend to Pipsy?"

Gord looked startled. "Why would you want that? She's a child."

"I like her," Coralina said. She didn't try to grip his gaze or flood her voice with passion; the tricks she employed to make her words convincing. It was the truth, so she spoke it calmly. "And she likes me, you know that. She needs me in her life."

Gord looked unsettled. He shifted the yellow cloth from one arm to the other. For a moment, he looked ready to speak. Then, without a word, he turned and strode away from her.

The peasant girls and the stragglers looked disappointed. There had been no royal tantrum or thunderous quarrel. If they sought to fuel their gossip, they would have to embellish. Which, no doubt, they would.

Gord's heavy strides carried him into the crowd. He towered above the rest; they couldn't hide him. The hot tears returned as Coralina watched the distance stretch between them. He never once looked back.

She returned to Luxley and the carriage. They rolled out of Creaklee, bound for Lumen Lake, and Luxley was nothing but smiles and compliments. Yet all Coralina could dwell on was Gord walking away from her.

"So glad to leave that sorry village!" Luxley cried. "Did you find the big fellow? Are we done with his unpleasantness?"

Coralina laughed because it effectively hid her sobs. She fumbled through her coin purse and pulled out the owl carving. In both hands, she cradled it, gazing at its rough beauty.

He didn't want her. She would have to accept that. Her heart would ache for him. Somehow, she must bear it. He would never again smile in her eyes....

A tear slipped off her cheek and splashed on the owl's wooden face. Coralina turned to the window and rested her hand on the narrow sill. She had only to uncurl her fingers and the owl would drop to the road.

"Yes," she whispered. "I'm done."

But the owl remained in her hand.