I beg Rodney to throw the ball again, but he just picks it up and moves away.
Why did my left hand do that? Before I can find out, we’ve boarded the carriage and set off.
Tabitha quickly confiscated the nice branch I found in a pile of fallen leaves, so I can only pretend to hold it. If the ball comes this way, here! If it goes that way, there!
✦ ✦ ✦
I’m sure I’ll hit it the next time, so I’ll get my lord husband to throw balls at me later during a rest stop.
Seated opposite me, he comments, “You seem to be good at sports but not so much with tools…”
“That’s not true. I can do it.” I move to sit beside him and remove my shoes so I can more comfortably look out the window. I’ve rehearsed the scenario flawlessly and am a little out of breath.
“Have you finished practicing?”
“Yes! I’m perfect now!”
“I-I see.”
The sky is slightly cloudy, I notice. It will definitely rain once we leave the territory.
My lord husband twirls strands of my hair around his finger, and the gentle tugging motion in conjunction with the swaying of the carriage feels so pleasant.
“Abigail.”
“Yes?”
I watch a flock of tiny, white-bellied birds dart into the forest. Though not monsters, they probably live there. The strong will devour the weak anywhere, so they’re hardly safer outside it.
“We’re only bringing the mulberry home. What about the oak and other trees?”
“They’ll be going back to the forest, so they’re fine,” I answer.
“Going back…? I see. I guess so.”
The acorns had flown into the forest as well, so the trees will follow.
My lord husband pulls me onto his lap and holds me tight.
✦ ✦ ✦
🎂🎂🎂
AT our first stop, I sit and enjoy some herbal tea brewed by Rodney. The fourth prince arrives soon after and joins us, his gaze lingering on the rear of the carriage Rodney and the other servants are travelling in.
“Are those mushrooms drying on the rumble seat…?”
That’s right. The rumble seat. I asked to sit there once and was told no. We’ve strung it with forest mushrooms, which must have caught his eye. Maybe he hasn’t seen mushrooms before.
“They’re souvenirs for Ethan; you can’t take them,” I inform him.
“Oh, I don’t want them. Huh, why do you look surprised?”
I thought he would want them because they’re so shiny. I was wrong.
My lord husband clucks his tongue. “My wife picked them as a souvenir. We’re drying them so they won’t spoil before we get home.”
“Right. That’s all good, but why do they look like that?!”
“There are thousands of species of mushroom.”
“Huh? Really?”
My lord husband, Rodney, and even Tabitha nod, which seems to finally convince the fourth prince.
I see. Perhaps the mushrooms in the capital aren’t shiny. That must mean mine are rare. Ethan will surely be pleased. I did well!
✦ ✦ ✦
AFTER tea, Abigail asks Rodney to throw the ball at her again, and as expected, she catches it with her hand instead of the branch each time. Over and over, cocking her head to one side as though she doesn’t understand why she’s caught it. I don’t understand either.
“You’re sweating, Abby. Try again later.”
Her lips tighten in a dissatisfied frown, but she lets Tabitha dab the sweat from her brow. The sight is adorable, and Prince Dominic, sitting nearby and struggling to hold in laughter, lets out a pained sigh.
“This is supposed to be a break, but my stomach hurts…”
“It’s a good chance to train your abdominals, Your Highness.”
“But I—”
“You’ve not been training daily, have you?”
“But those documents are in such a terrible mess! How am I supposed to have time or energy to train?!”
I know he was researching various matters during our stay at Longhurst. The murdered officials had likely started to reorganize the available records, and I suppose there are uncountably many to read and digest. I have to give him credit though for his determination to read through them himself rather than leave the task to his aides.
Meanwhile, Abigail looks somewhat dazed as Tabitha wipes down her neck and hair with a towel. She must be feeling sleepy after all the exercise.
“It’s not that I’m stooping down to doing work, just that I’d like to secure my position and lay a foundation for the future, you know.”
“Oh.” I spread my arms as my little chick stumbles over.
“You’re the second son yourself, sir. We usually become assistant to the eldest, but you stepped out on your own and made a name for yourself.”
“Yes.”
Prince Dominic had instructed the knights who arrived before us and some of his staff to remain at the manor until the newly appointed administrators arrive. Usually, officials familiar with the territory are appointed to manage it, but that certainly didn’t work out in Longhurst. The locals were totally unreliable and had even resorted to murder. The additional security will deter further transgression.
“I’m low in the line of succession, but I do well and am well-liked. I know Father assigned me Longhurst as a chance to prove myself, and I’d like to live up to his expectation. Who knew things would turn out so rough…”
I understand the prince’s complaint. And the circumstances will only worsen. When we left, the ground was already dry and the vegetation wilted, long before the advent of summer. Even the mulberry trees with their heavy boughs of fruit and the oaks’ out-of-season acorns have all but disappeared.
It’s not hard to imagine what will happen next. How long can the commoners, so accustomed to abundant harvests that they dare throw stones at royalty, endure a desiccated land?
Not that I have any intention of warning them!
They’ll find out for themselves eventually. And though the royal family may be dragged into the following mess, that will be by its own doing. It decided to annex the territory in the first place.
Drowsy with sleep, Abigail stands between me and where Prince Dominic sits at the tea table. The crown of her head as she leans against my shoulder feels so warm. How hard she must have exerted herself…
“Are you even listening, sir? Look, I won’t ask you to accompany me here next time, so can the lady please—”
Abigail thrusts her small fist in front of the prince’s face.
“Huh?!”
Oh…
“Huh, what? What is it, my lady?”
“For you.”
Confused, he cups his hands as she drops something into them. Then he yelps. “What?! What’s this?! It’s buzzing! Argh! What is it!?”
“A grasshopper,” she murmurs.
“H-Huh? Why?! Why a grasshopper?!”
“Come, Abby. Let’s go back to the carriage,” I suggest.
“Wait! Wait up! What should I do with this?!”
“My wife will catch a cold if she falls asleep outdoors. Please excuse us.”
That’s it. Abigail is good at catching flying creatures. That was why she kept catching the ball with her hand. Why didn’t it occur to me sooner?