The Trouble with Assumptions

"I could still use the roses," Sera said.

Queen Eleanor looked between them.

"I gather you have met."

"Briefly," Alex said.

Sera prayed for the floor to develop a modest, convenient hole.

The queen spared her by asking about the journey. Alex drew out a chair. Tea arrived, then three perfectly ordinary questions about Sera's mother, the roads, and whether her rooms were comfortable.

There was no mention of the railing.

Certainly no mention of her mouth.

When the queen was called away to receive a dispatch, Sera put her cup down with excessive care.

"You might have told me."

"I was about to, before you explained how dreadful I was. After that I wanted to hear the rest."

"I was speaking generally."

"You were very specific about breakfast."

Sera covered her face.

"Would it help if I apologized for the surprise?" Alex asked.

"It would help if you forgot everything I said."

"Even the part about being frightened?"

Sera lowered her hands.

Alex sat across from her rather than beside her, leaving the little table between them.

"We don't have to pretend this was our idea."

Outside, gardeners were covering the flower beds against the evening chill. Sera watched one man carefully tuck a trailing shoot beneath the canvas.

"My father calls it an opportunity."

"My mother calls it a sensible alliance."

"Everyone has a charming name for it."

Alex nodded. "We could call it six weeks."

"What?"

"Six weeks to get acquainted. No promises we haven't made ourselves. At the end, if you don't wish to marry me, I'll say so with you."

"To both our families?"

"Yes."

Sera searched that composed face for the usual qualification. None came.

"And if you don't wish to marry me?"

Alex glanced down before answering.

"Then I'll tell you."

It was the first hesitation Sera had noticed since the terrace. She found herself oddly reluctant to imagine Alex making that decision.

Which was absurd. They had shared bread and an accident.

"Six weeks," she agreed. "And no reporting my attempted departures."

"Provided you use the doors."

She smiled despite herself.

Back in her room, Rose was unpacking a leather correspondence case.

"Shall I put these on your desk?"

Sera recognized the blue packet her father had pressed on her before the journey. An introduction, he had called it, with the same tone he used for information about drainage works.

She had refused to read a document describing the person she was expected to marry as though selecting an ambassador.

"Later."

Rose placed it beside the lamp.

"Was the heir dreadful?"

Sera tugged at a ribbon.

"Annoyingly reasonable."

"How unfortunate."

"You're enjoying this."

"A little."

The next morning Alex met her outside the stables with two horses and an expression that made Sera suspect the day's amusement had already begun.

One horse was a towering black creature with the neck of a war monument.

"Absolutely not," Sera said.

"That's mine."

"How gratifying for you both."

Alex introduced her to a smaller chestnut mare called Clover. Sera stroked the soft nose, let Clover inspect her glove, and decided the situation was recoverable.

She could ride. She had simply learned in a very quiet paddock on a horse considerably less interested in its own opinions.

Alex checked her stirrup, stood back, and let her mount without assistance.

They followed the lake path at a walk.

For several minutes Sera concentrated on sitting correctly. Her shoulders ached.

"Clover won't write to your riding master," Alex said.

"She might. She has a judgmental face."

"That's because you keep asking her to turn left and then changing your mind."

Sera looked down. She was holding the reins unevenly.

Alex demonstrated with one hand, patiently, without reaching across to take over. Sera copied the movement. Clover immediately became less argumentative.

"There," Alex said. "You see?"

The simple pleasure in that voice warmed her more than praise usually did.

They rode past an orchard just beginning to flower. Alex pointed out a boathouse, a ruined summer pavilion, and the cottage where the gardener's twins had recently acquired an alarming number of rabbits.

"How many is alarming?"

"We thought four. It appears we were optimistic."

Sera laughed. By the time they turned back, she had stopped counting every movement of the horse beneath her.

At the stable yard, Alex dismounted first and came to Clover's side.

"Would you like a hand?"

Sera nodded. Alex helped her down with such easy care that she landed closer than intended, one hand resting against the dark riding coat.

For an instant the terrace returned: warm lips, the wall, the shocked catch of breath.

Sera stepped away.

"Thank you."

Alex was still holding her hand. Perhaps noticing it at the same moment, Alex bowed over her knuckles and brushed them with a light, formal kiss.

This, Sera thought furiously, was an unreasonable way to end an educational outing.

"If you become my husband," she said, seeking firmer ground, "you mustn't expect me to ride before breakfast every day."

Alex went still.

Not offended, exactly. Astonished.

"Your husband?"

"I know we haven't decided. I said if."

"Sera." Alex released her hand. "My name is Alexandra."

The stable yard seemed to grow very quiet.

"Alexandra?"

"I'm a woman."

Sera stared.

The old portrait she remembered had shown a solemn child in a high-collared uniform. Her father had said the Blackwood heir, Alex, educated abroad, a suitable match. She had supplied prince herself and, once angry, stopped listening to everything else.

"You thought I knew," she said.

"Yes. I thought you objected to marrying a stranger."

"I do. I did. I still do."

Alex's expression softened.

"That doesn't have to change."

"No. Of course."

Sera's gaze betrayed her by returning to Alex's mouth.

The realization that she had kissed a woman should have made the incident feel different. Instead, it brought every detail into disconcerting focus.

Alex's thumb against her waist. The lovely voice. The blush she had wanted to see again.

"I should have introduced myself properly," Alex said.

"And I should have read the introduction."

"Possibly."

They looked at each other. Sera began to laugh, mortified and relieved and something else she couldn't yet name.

Alex laughed too.

Later, alone at her desk, Sera finally opened the blue packet.

The first line identified Her Royal Highness Princess Alexandra Blackwood.

"Oh, do be quiet," she told the paper.

Then she pressed her fingers to the place on her hand where Alex had kissed her.