Rylan glances at me with a teasing smile. “I needed to stretch my legs, and after how tired you usually are after training, it seemed like a good time, seeing as you’d be unlikely to run away.”
I raise an eyebrow, smirking. “Oh, the flattery. Maybe if I find the company adequate, I’ll refrain from trying to escape today.”
“Well, then I’m in trouble,” he jokes. “But, seriously, I don’t have the energy to chase you down today. Have some pity on your prince.”
“We’ll see. But really, why the walk?” I ask, hoping he’ll give me something more than just a casual response.
He guides me down the path toward the sound of the town square. “I try to walk around the city at least once a week when I’m in the capital. You can’t really know what’s happening in a place unless you’re standing in it, listening to what people are saying, seeing it with your own eyes, feeling the air.”
I tilt my head playfully. “So, less about fresh air and more about royal surveillance?”
“Exactly,” he deadpans, though a grin breaks through. “ButI promise, no eavesdropping today. Just a prince on his rare afternoon off.”
We stroll past small shops, and surprisingly, Rylan greets a few of the townspeople by name. In fact, the closer we get into the town centre, the harder it becomes to move more than a few steps at a time before he’s stopped. That’s when I remember the day we’d ridden through town that first day and the crowds had parted for him and the guards. I thought they’d been bowing to the royal emblem on Grellor’s and Yosef’s guard uniforms, but they’d all been bowing to Rylan because they knew who he was. I was the only one who hadn’t known.
As we walk by a small bakery, the smell of fresh bread wafts out of the door, making my stomach growl, loudly enough that Rylan raises an eyebrow.
“I heard that,” he says with a smirk. “Hungry?”
“Just appreciating the... ambiance,” I reply quickly, trying not to laugh, though the sound of his voice and the way he’s looking at me make it difficult to concentrate on anything else.
He grins and turns to the baker, who’s just stepped outside with a broad smile. “Your Highness! Always a pleasure.”
Rylan greets him warmly, asking about his family and the business. The baker, clearly delighted by the attention, insists on giving us a loaf of his best bread. Rylan tries to refuse, but the baker won’t hear of it, pressing the paper bag wrapped warm loaf into his hands.
“Free bread?” I joke as we walk away. “Ah, I see your true motives now. This walk was really just a ruse to get some baked goods.”
He laughs, shaking his head. “You caught me. The crown prince’s true power? Never paying for bread.”
“You should put that on the royal crest,” I say with a grin. “‘Prince Rylan—Keeper of Bread Discounts.’”
“Oh, I like that. It sounds noble but functional,” he teases, winking.
There’s something about the way he looks at me, the way his smile lingers, that makes my heart flutter in a way that’s becoming increasingly difficult to ignore.
In the bustle of the shopping crowds, an elderly vendor gets pushed to the ground. I drop Rylan’s arm and rush ahead to help her to her feet. She’s gifting me an appreciative pat on the arm when Rylan catches up to us. She beams at him, her wrinkled face lighting up as he asks about her health and business. I watch as he tries to buy a small bouquet of wildflowers, which she insists on giving to him for nothing. Then, with a playful bow, he hands the bouquet to me.
“For you, milady,” he says, his eyes twinkling.
I laugh, taking the flowers, my fingers brushing against his as I do. The touch sends a tiny jolt through me, and I wonder if he feels it too. “Is this how you charm all the ladies? Free bread and flowers?”
“Only the pretty ones,” he replies smoothly, though I catch the slight colour rising to his cheeks.
“Pretty, huh?” I glance at the flowers and then back at him. “You’re really pulling out all the stops today.”
“I took your threat to run seriously,” he says with a cocked brow, his eyes holding mine for just a beat longer than usual, and it’s enough to make my breath hitch. Then he adds with an exaggerated shrug, “It also helps you no longer smell of wet horse.”
I hit him with the flowers and he laughs as he jogs ahead to the next stall. It’s a familiar one, and Rylan stops and picks up a scarf—a deep teal one, much like the one Mathis had shown me the day he’d come with me. He holds it up, inspecting it with a thoughtful expression.
“These remind me of your eyes,” he says softly, his teasing tone giving way to something more sincere.
I blink in surprise but manage to laugh. “Mathis said the same thing. Are all of you trained to say that?”
His smile falters for a brief moment, and I notice a flitter of jealousy cross his face. He recovers quickly, his charming mask slipping into place within seconds.
Before I can dive too deeply into what I saw, a figure suddenly bumps roughly into Rylan, nearly knocking him off balance. The man, clearly agitated, mutters a curse under his breath, apparently not realising who he’s just collided with. But when he looks up, recognition dawns, and his expression twists from annoyance to anger, his eyes narrowing dangerously.
For a brief, tense moment, I see the man’s hand twitch as if he’s about to reach for something. My heart skips a beat, and before I can react, Rylan’s arm moves swiftly, moving me behind him in a protective gesture. His two guards step forward, their hands on their swords, ready to intervene, but Rylan holds up a hand, signalling them to wait.
