Chapter 59. Over Ale

Alethea lay quietly in her tent, staring at the point on the ceiling where all the triangular walls met. She was the only one who occupied this tent, as it was built specifically for her—the right-hand maiden of the prince had the privilege of having her own resting area if staying in the prince’s tent made her uncomfortable, and Alethea was very uncomfortable with sleeping around him.

Tonight, though, she couldn’t stop thinking about him. Usually, the prince was only looking for ways to lay with her; other times he didn’t even care for her at all and only saw her as he saw the other soldiers: tools. But his sudden change in character, his sudden interest in her efficiency as a soldier—it not only scared her, it also intrigued her.

“Prince Desmond,” she whispered to herself, turning to her right to face the tent’s curtains. Her eyes sparkled with wonder as she fell deeper and deeper into her thoughts about her fight with the prince. As she stared blankly at the curtains,