“That’s when I come here,” Summer went on. She looked down at the arrows in her hands. “I can at least pretend to freedom here.” Most of them she could shoot again immediately. Good, because this conversation was starting to depress her. Striding back, kicking at her skirts as she went, she nearly snatched up the bow in her haste to turn her mind to different things.
With a quick gesture, she offered the bundle of arrows to Henry. “Will you shoot first?”
He stood back and smiled at her, “No, you may shoot, good day Lady.”
Henry stood back, and turned away from her, the manner in which she suggested there to be little freedom even for his own guests gave him cause to think and wonder on what he could do, or what could be done for it not to be so.
But he knew, better than all, that such things were not so easily rebelled against.
The way he turned away, Summer wondered if she’d said something wrong. Well, maybe reminding a king of lack of freedom was a bit … cruel, actually. Brushing that extra sense against him, she nodded to herself. Best to apologise before damage was done.
She laid the bow down with respect, then whirled quickly and all but ran across the yard after Henry. “Highness?”