Lucky. Alethea smiled a little, vaguely, thinking to herself that Luck had nothing to do with it. Unless the monsters had been distracted by another quarry, or fallen into a sinkhole, or been otherwise dispatched without Tristan’s interference, his survival had been the product of some quick thinking – and quick thinking was impossible when a person was overcome with terror. She recalled the one time she had seen such a thing, herself: she’d gone along on a hunting trip with some older cousins, and one of their pages had been gored by a wild boar. The look in his eyes as he trembled and froze would be forever etched in her memory. He could have climbed a tree – there were many within a few strides of him – but in his fear he was paralyzed, and let the beast take him. He’d bled for days before dying. Alethea remembered the emptiness in his eyes, when she’d visited his bedside. “You couldn’t have done anything to save him, girl,” her cousin had said, “you can’t save people who do nothing to save themselves.”
So, whether or not it had been stupidity that got the Prince in that situation in the first place, it was courage that got him out. The denial was charming, though.
Her smile spread in response to Tristan’s grin, seeing how terribly obvious the sharpness of that tooth must have been, to him. Alethea thought she would blunt it, if she were to wear one around her neck; she couldn’t imagine being poked all day long. Of course their…topography was considerably different. She was thinking all this at the same time as she reflected him, beaming, made radiant by his mirth. Like him, happiness had a transformative effect on her face, as if it were being lit from within. Leto, meanwhile, was still and silent; a depthless pool. She inclined her head under Tristan’s touch, seeming to peer at and through him, her eyes bright gold. The wolf was far from trained, and could never really be, with her wild heart. It was difficult enough to get her talking, much less doing tricks. But like her mistress, she was not easily affronted, and accepted the boy’s gentle gesture patiently.
“Yes, let’s! Skeletons, and then the roof. The stables can wait until you’re well enough to ride again. Then we’ll see if you can keep up with me.” Alethea winked at him, then looked down at her dress, patting at her torso as if she had lost something amidst all that fabric. “Only…do you mind if we stop by my bedroom, first? I’d like to bring a notebook.” The trio reversed their course, and set off for the East wing at a brisk walk.
The little lady was excited, even more excited than she showed. She hoped Tristan would be willing to spend some time investigating the raptor skeletons, giving her long enough to sketch them and make some cursory observations. What perfect first entries for her new notebook! If she had believed in omens, she would have thought this a very good one. But she didn’t. Superstition was illogical. As she pushed open the door to her chambers, it was immediately clear that her maidservant had begun the work of sorting and stowing the heaps of possessions. Fortunately the woman had left her book on the windowsill, and with a dash Alethea was in and out, snatching a small satchel off a hook just before closing the door.
“Right, then. Where might they be hidden?”
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