"Brenna!" Mrs. Woods shouted through the bustling kitchen commotion. Briar wiped her hands on her apron in an effort to eliminate the bacon grease that had coated them from the dishes of breakfast and walked over to Mrs. Woods. "There you are. You're to take Lady Cora and her friends their tea in the ladies' tea room this morning with Lucy."

Briar nodded and turned to gather the tea tray. Elsie was standing nearby and, as she approached, whispered. "Rough luck."

"I'm sorry?" Briar asked.

"No one wants to get stuck with ladies' tea time."

"Why not? It seems easy enough."

"Last week, Kitty came downstairs crying because one of Lady Cora's friends called her fat. She's refused to go back up there since. Lucy's been doing it all herself."

"That's terrible."

"That's nobility."

Briar grabbed the tea tray and turned away from her friend, trailing after Lucy who had been impatiently tapping her foot throughout the duration of their conversation. They ascended the stairs to the first floor where they crossed the parlor to the room across from it. The ladies tea room was pink and powdered, similar to the Lady Cora's own bedchambers. There were about five women in the room, including Lady Cora herself. Briar had not yet formally met the woman but she was easy enough to pick out. It was clear from the moment she entered the room that Lady Cora was the one in control. She sat on the largest, plushest pink chair and the ladies sat around her, eager to be in her presence. It was an odd scene. They had had a ladies' tea room in the palace but there had never been any ladies to take tea with and she was always far too busy with her lessons to have attended one if there were.

"Mr. Morgan was here?" one of the women was asking as they entered. She was a petite brunette with a plain face but a stunning set of rubies hung around her neck. Titled, no doubt and not by marriage if her appearance were any indication.

"He was," Lady Cora answered, lazily twirling her beautiful blonde hair around a finger. "Last night. He left this morning."

"How interesting! Mr. Morgan never leaves his estate in Edenshire. What did he want?"

"To speak with my brother. He moved into Edenshire quite some time ago now. He felt that he had never gotten to know his neighbors and sought to remedy such an oversight," she said and the women nodded, clearly disappointed with her answer. "But at dinner, they started talking about politics. Mr. Morgan seemed to know quite a bit of news that we had not yet heard. Apparently, the sick king grows worse every day."

The women gasped and looked around at each other, torn between the titillation of the juicy gossip and the urge to feign concern for their ill sovereign. Despite Briar's limited experience in conversing with other women, she knew them well enough. She had, on more than one occasion, been forced to entertain the noble wives and daughters of the men who visited the palace. She recognized their penchant for gossip and how very fickle their patriotism could be.

"How does he know that?" the plump one asked with a pout of disbelief.

"He has contacts in the capital."

Briar and Lucy began to serve the tea. The women hardly noticed them there, not even glancing up at them as they grabbed the tea cups from their hands. They hung on every word the Lady spoke as if their lives depended on it. Perhaps they did. There were many circles that Briar knew of in which a noblewoman was only worth whatever gossip she could bring to the table. Someone who told a tale considered old or well-known was often laughed away, brushed off as insignificant. Their husbands were the ones with the real power but there was power in knowledge too. Her uncle had taught her that.

At the moment, Briar felt no offense at having been disregarded by these impudent women. In fact, that may have been a blessing. It had been difficult to hear that her uncle's illness had worsened yet again and she knew that the grief must be plain upon her face. There was something else that troubled her though and that was that Lady Cora even knew of her uncle's illness at all. Alfred had assured her that great pains had been taken to ensure that the people did not discover that their king was sick for as long as they could hide it but, if country folks such as these already knew the depths of their king's illness, how much did those in the capital know?

"Anyway," Lady Cora said, bringing Briar back to reality. "My brother is allowing me to throw a ball here on Saturday."

"A ball?" the small red-haired girl squealed. Lucy groaned quietly beside her and rolled her eyes. When Briar shot her a look of confusion, she mouthed the words more work in explanation as the red-haired girl continued. "How exciting! Are we invited?"

"Of course. And be sure to bring any beautiful single friends you have. I've invited practically every suitable and available woman in the country."

"Oh, so it is to find your brother a wife, then?" the tall raven-haired girl asked with a raised brow. "Is Lord Huntington finally ready to settle down?"

Lady Cora smiled. "My brother is the most eligible bachelor in the whole country."

"More like fourth," Briar whispered under her breath as she poured another cup of tea, remembering the list that Alfred had shown her back in the castle just weeks ago, telling her an unwed princess must be aware of such things. She remembered Sterling Huntington's name being fourth on the list, not first. First was some young philanderer who found himself with the title of Duke at a rather too young age. Second was a tall, dark, and handsome gentleman who, fortunately or unfortunately depending on how one looked at it, happened to be Briar's second cousin and therefore out of the question for marriage. Third was young Lord Morgan himself though Briar knew as well as anyone that the rumors surrounding that particular gentleman seemed to indicate that he did not prefer women.

"What?" Lucy whispered, having not heard Briar's comment.

"More tea for Lady Cora," Briar corrected herself, passing Lucy the newly filled cup and watching her walk it to the Lady who grasped it without so much as a glance in Lucy's direction.

"But he doesn't act like it," Lady Cora was saying. "He's rich, intelligent, I'm told he's quite handsome and, since we share the same genes, I suppose he must be."

The women laughed along with her at that. Briar restrained the urge to roll her eyes.

"But he's a romantic," she sighed. "Wants to stumble upon the love of his life himself. Well, that's rather difficult to do when you never leave your own home."

"Not really," the raven-haired girl disagreed, a mischievous smile on her lips. "If he let them, women would line up at the door for a chance at him."

The women giggled. All but Cora.

"I know I would," the red head said. Lucy glanced Briar's way and grinned and the two of them bit their lips to keep from laughing.

"Enough," Lady Cora said. "I won't hear my brother spoken of in this manner. It's revolting."

"I hear Miss Fontaine has been seen milling about the estate quite a bit," the petite brunette spoke.

"Miss Fontaine wouldn't know how to seduce a man if he strolled into the room with his pants down ready to go," Lady Cora said. Lucy and Briar did laugh that time. Luckily, it was drowned out by the guffawing mirth of the noblewomen. Suddenly, Lady Cora was on her feet. "Well, ladies, it's been wonderful but I'm afraid I have a ball to plan. Lucy and... Brenna, was it? Do tell Mrs. Woods I wish to speak with her in my rooms when she has a moment. There is much to do."

Lucy and Briar nodded and bowed and Lady Cora swept from the room, her elegant skirts trailing after her in a cloud of lavender scented grandeur. A moment later, her friends were filing out as well, murmuring bits of less stimulating gossip amongst themselves as they departed. Once they had gone, Lucy and Briar went to work cleaning up after them. Briar tried her best not to think of her uncle as she piled the dainty teacups onto her tray and tossed the cookie crumbs into the waste basket near the door but it was nearly impossible.

When they had finished cleaning the ladies tea room, they returned the dishes to the kitchens and provided Mrs. Woods with Lady Cora's message. She thanked them graciously and took Lucy with her upstairs to meet with the Lady after, of course, giving Briar and Elsie the job of kneading the dough for the evening meal. They set to work straightaway, putting the soft flour into the lump of dough and pushing and pulling to shape and form it. Briar told Elsie all that she had seen and heard that morning in the ladies' tea room. She hadn't been living among the servants for long but she had already deduced that servants relished gossip just as much as nobles. When she told her what Lady Cora had alleged about Miss Fontaine, Elsie giggled just as she and Lucy had.

"Would you know what to do with him?" Elsie inquired, grinning.

"What?" Briar retorted.

"If a man strolled into the room with his pants down, ready to go, would you know what to do with him?"

"Well, I know where it goes, if that's what you're asking. But I'm a little fuzzy on how it gets there."

Elsie snorted and burst into a fit of laughter. Briar smiled, pleased with herself. If she had told such a joke in the company of court, her uncle would have been outraged. As progressive as the King was, he still expected her to be a Lady, to have manners and behave as serene and elegant as a woman should. But Briar had always spent her days in the company of soldiers and such men fashioned the most vulgar witticisms. Some of it had rubbed off on her, she supposed, as she was never without a witty retort or a bawdy gag. It seemed that perhaps here in the kitchens, she could finally share them. Servants were not held to the same standard of decency as princesses.

"Well, I'm glad you two are enjoying yourselves," Mrs. Woods said, having just returned from her conference with Lady Cora. "But we need to get this bread baking if it's to be ready in time. Elsie, help me get this in. Briar, take a break. You've been working since breakfast."

"Thank you, Mrs. Woods," Briar responded and wiped her hands on her apron before removing it from around her waist and hanging it on a hook near the door, delighted at the overdue break.

She departed the kitchen and sauntered down the servant's passage until she reached the door to the outside. She opened it and took a deep breath of the fresh air that came rushing in around her. The servant's passage door was next to the stables so that the stableboys could get to work early in the morning without waking half of the estate. But beyond the stables was a beautiful lake. That was where she liked to take her breaks. That, or the beautiful gardens in the front of the estate. She took a step in the direction of the water but then she noticed a small boy sitting in the grass near the stables. He was young, perhaps seven, and he was pouting, clearly distraught. Briar changed directions and approached him.

"Hello," she said as she reached him, smiling.

"Hello," he answered but he did not smile in return.

"My name is Brenna. What's yours?"

"Nicholas."

"Well, it's nice to meet you, Nicholas," she said, holding out her hand. He shook it and she took a seat in the grass next to him. "Tell me, what are you so unhappy about on such a beautiful day?"

"My father says I'm not old enough to ride a horse."

"Who's your father?"

"Henry Abram. He's one of the lord's men."

"Ah I see. Well, Nicholas, your father is right. Horses are very large animals and they can be quite skittish. Do you know what skittish means?"

"Yes."

He turned up his nose, insulted that she had insinuated that he could possibly not know what such a word meant.

"Very good," she answered with a smile. "I'm afraid that a small boy such as yourself could get quite hurt if he doesn't know what he's doing. But you could always practice."

"How can I practice if I can't ride?"

"Hm," she said, considering for a moment, then she flipped herself over and got on all fours. "Hop on."

He giggled but obeyed, climbing onto her back without much difficulty. Then, slowly, she got to her feet, holding his legs so that he would not fall. He hooted merrily.

"Now, Nicholas. Do you know the commands you tell a horse?"

"No."

"No? Well, when you want the horse to go, to move forward, you say step. When you want to slow down or stop, you say whoa. You say gee to go right and haw to turn left. Got it?"

"Got it!"

"Well, give it a try."

"Step," the boy ordered and Briar did as she was told, walking forward slowly. She heard him giggle behind her and, after a moment, he added. "Gee."

She turned right as instructed.

"No! I meant the other way," he shouted. She did not listen. She was only a horse, after all. "I meant haw! Haw!"

She turned left.

"Haw!"

Another left and there was a wide-open patch of grass before her. She smiled and took off running. The boy shouted in glee.

"Whoa!" he screamed after a moment. "Whoa!"

She came to an abrupt stop and both of them fell into a fit of laughter. Her amusement stopped abruptly, though, when she saw Lord Huntington standing a few feet away from them, smile on his face.

"Nicholas," he said kindly. "Your father has need of you."

"Yes, Lord Huntington," Nicholas said as Briar lowered him carefully to the ground. Then he smiled at her, much happier than he had been before, and said. "Thank you Brenna."

"Of course, Nicholas," she told him. "Now don't forget to practice."

"I promise!" he exclaimed and then ran off to find his father, leaving Briar alone with Lord Huntington who was still a few feet away, smiling.

She just pushed past him to return to work, muttering under her breath as she passed. "Excuse me, my Lord."

She heard him chuckling as she made her way inside.