Once we'd made it back to our rooms, Ella and Emily running in separate directions to pull our their riding clothes in anticipation of tomorrow's hunt, Rosanna and I hesitated in the sitting room. I'd wracked my brain for an excuse to hurry down to the stables and beg for a horse as I would likely pull my hair out strand by strand if I had to sit through not one, but two afternoons of brainless chatter and needlepoint work. My head was already aching in anticipation of the afternoon, my longing to go out riding almost painful. "I'll go attend to Ella," Rosanna said, absenting herself before I had the need to blurt out whatever excuse I'd come up with. I hesitated for a moment, debating whether I should tell anyone where I was going, only to have Emily's whispered comments from my first night replay in my head. I rehearsed my lie a few times in my head, tugging a few of Audra's strategically placed pins out of my dress to open a gash along the bodice before I knocked on Ella's door. "I have to return to the seamstress as my dress has popped a stitch it seems," I said, walking in as I studied the gash, the withdrawn pins buried in my skirts. "Already?" Rosanna asked, dropping one of Ella's many riding habits onto the bed as she looked my way, "That is utterly unacceptable. See to it that they don't pawn you off on an apprentice, you need nothing less than the best they can provide," "Hurry, Libby," Ella said, emerging in half deshabille, a pair of leather riding leggings under a slit petticoat she was tying on over her corset, "For you cannot risk being late for the queen's salon," I left without another word, wondering how much trouble I'd be caught up in if I happened to miss the queen's sure-to-be-dreadful salon. The hall filled with the noise of all the debutantes and their ladies as they prepared to spend an afternoon with the queen. Mary Marquette was singing warmup scales, probably in preparation to dazzle the queen with her voice. From another room, a violin could be heard. I snorted despite myself, wondering if these girls viewed impressing the queen as a way to "win" the prince. I hesitated at the top of the main staircase, my hand lingering on the banister. Had it not been for the trio of maids polishing the marble entrance hall floor, I would have eagerly slid down the incredibly inviting banister. I settled instead for taking the steps two at a time, skirting the glittering floor as I made my way for the back door to the gardens. Once I was outside, I tipped my face to the sky, savoring the fresh air. I was of half a mind to forget the entire afternoon and spend it wandering the lushly landscaped gardens. My brother Xavier had once told me there was a hedge maze so large it could take you hours to find your way out of it. I doubted as much was true, but I was sorely tempted to see if there was indeed a hedge maze of some sort. "Pardon me, but which way to the stables?" I asked the first gardener I came across. She paused in her pruning of the crab apple tree to point with her shears around the back. I followed her direction, forced up onto the ballroom terrace by the hedgerowed gardens. It seemed that the stables were around the back of the older part of the palace, with the towers and turrets. The grand ballroom joined the old and new palaces together, the newer palace being used as the suites for the debutantes. During the off-season months, the debutante suites would be used to house foreign dignitaries and relatives of the royal family. The old palace was where the royals resided when in Highcastle and where the king held his council meetings. When Rosanna had given me a quick verbal map of the palace, she had neglected to mention any hallways connecting the new and old palaces, but thanks to my wanderings the first night, I knew they were ed by at least one secret hallway. I couldn't help but chuckle at the fact the royals kept that bit hidden, surely to keep overeager debutantes from "stumbling" into the royal residence. As I followed the path off the ballroom terrace and through a garden lined with fountains, I found my way to the back of the palace. Sure enough, the smell of horses and leather permeated the air and I could hardly contain my excitement. The grounds behind the stables were divided into paddocks, several stable hands running through training drills with the horses in training rings. I tore my eyes away from them as their manes rippled behind them, cantering in circles in the training rings. "May I help you?" The voice pulled me out of the grinning daze I'd been in thanks to the horses. A disheveled looking man with a pitchfork laden with hay was looking at me with an incredulous frown. "I need a horse. For the hunt tomorrow," I blurted out, "Please, you must help me," The man's brows furrowed in earnest this time as he pitched the hay into a trough, leaning his pitchfork against the wall so he could rub away the sweat under his cap. "What doddy maid sent you out here?" he asked, replacing his cap with a scowl. I shrugged, offering him a tentative smile. "I found my own way out here," I said, trying to gauge his reaction. His scowl deepended as he jutted his chin towards me. "Well whatever got the bright idea into your head to wander out about here with that corset of yours sticking out?" he demanded. I felt my cheeks flame scarlet as I realized that I had't re-pinned my bodice after "accidentally" opening the improvised seam as an excuse. "I thought as much. What's your name?" the man asked, picking up his pitchfork again. "Libby," I said, deciding that divulging my full name would be an incredibly foolhardy way to set tongues wagging about me. "Well Miss Libby, I'd get your ladies' maid to repair that. I'll see what I can do about a horse for you," he said, turning to re-enter the stables. "And you are?" I called after him, taking a few steps towards him. He halted in his tracks fixing me with a glare. "One more step and those bonnie slippers of yours will be in muck," he said, jutting his chin out at me again. Sure enough, there was a pile of dung mere inches from the edge of my new skirt. I yelped, lifting it and the man shook his head with a growl. "Women," he muttered, "Will you please cover your ankles for the sake of decency!" I hopped back a few steps before I dropped my skirts, only to realize that two of the three horse-training stable hands had started to gawk. "I'm so sorry, Mr...?" I began, still backing away. "The name's Bill and for you own good you'd best be getting out of my yard!" he barked, shaking his head with a grumble as he disappeared back into the stables. I inhaled, checking my skirts for any soil before I shot one last look towards the horses. Upon seeing me looking, the stablehands looked away, resuming their training. I didn't dare idle much longer as the clock struck 11. Since any semblance of decorum had obviously evaporated, I lifted my skirts and jogged back towards the palace, desperately hoping I could find Audra before Ella expected me with the queen. *** The freckled apprentice burst into laughter as I fell into her workroom, panting from exertion. I'd found a side-door into the kitchen, nearly causing the head pastry chef to lose an entire tray of bread loaves when I burst in. He'd cursed me out of the kitchen, calling me a "red-headed hellion" and it was only when I'd stumbled through three hallways, all packed with servants hurrying every which way that an older ladies' maid had taken pity on me, directing me to the seamstresses' hallway. "My word, did you fall out of a tree?" Audra demanded when her laughter had finally subsided as she examined the bodice, "And is that dirt on your hem? What on Earth have you gotten up to this morning?" "I needed a horse for tomorrow. A torn bodice was the only thing that would get me out of my cousin's suite and I may have forgotten to pin it closed before I went to the stables," I admitted, as Audra pushed me up onto the pedestal so she could get to pinning the bodice back in place. She clucked her tongue at me as she worked, her nimble fingers deftly pinning the fabric back into place. "I told you to tread carefully with this," she said, turning to inspect me, only to continue pinning and adjusting, "And how on Earth did Boy Bill stomach you showing up in such a state?" "Boy Bill?" I asked, wincing as a pin grazed my flesh. "Yes, Boy Bill, the stablemaster," Audra continued, shaking her head and re-pinning a bustle, "I'll need this back for a few days, clearly these pins will barely hold for an entire afternoon," "Why do they call him Boy? He was almost an old man?" I persisted, adding "Can you at least pin it to get me through the queen's salon?" Audra shot me a look. "That depends, if you decide to dance then this will fall apart. But if you sit and read a book it should be fine," she replied, "And we call him Boy Bill because he's been here since he was a lowly stableboy. He worked his way up, but he's notoriously unfriendly, especially to debutantes," "Well luckily I'm not a debutante," I grinned, "Does the queen really have books in her salon?" "So I've heard," Audra replied, keeping up with our double levelled conversation, "And Boy Bill dislikes anyone in a fancy skirt. He only likes the noblemen because they go on the hunt. Why did you bother speaking to him? There's hardly a chance he'd help," "I'm desperate Audra," I said, when she gestured for me to get down, "I can't spend the rest of my summer indoors doing needlepoint," She cocked an eyebrow and I groaned. "Perhaps if you improved your sewing you wouldn't have to come running to me every time you pop open a stitch," she sniffed, turning her back to me. "Oh Audra, I'm sorry. It's not the sewing, it's the gossip and the useless prattle that bores me. Needlepoint was one of my few strong suits in school," I apologized, coming around so she would look at me over her worktable. She rolled her eyes. "You should quit your own useless prattle or you'll be late!" she said, pointing towards the door. I dashed for it, pausing for a moment as something dawned on me. "Is there someone else I should speak to besides Boy Bill?" I asked, poking my head back into Audra's work room. She laughed. "Get out before they send you home for being late twice!" she laughed, "I'll ask for you," I thanked her, only realizing once I'd dashed back to the main service corridor that I hadn't corrected her for calling me late twice. I was particularly proud that I'd made it to breakfast on time.