The Replacement Princess Page 3
“It would be my pleasure, sir.” I set my hand on his sleeve and let him escort me. Our steps led to the ballroom. Friction lamps shone, casting glowing pools of light in the dark room. It was a warm night. The glass doors in the middle had been thrown wide. The moon glowed as brightly as the friction lamps, hanging low in the sky behind the beeches. I wondered if McAllister had organised this, if he’d spent time in the ballroom: lighting the lamps; pulling the curtains free of the particular doors he wished me to walk through; selecting which doors would frame the moon most particularly.
And then I wondered why thinking of him doing that, for me, made a warm, full sense bloom in my chest.
We stepped outside, the clack of the wooden floor surrendering to the soundless give of the lawns beneath my slippers.
“There’s a particular spot where the view is best. I’ll show you.” He led me onwards, over the grass towards the trees.
I cast a single, brief glance back. Aside from the room we’d just walked through, the windows on this side of the palace were all dark. And then I lifted my chin and looked away. It didn’t matter if someone was watching me. In two days I would be a married woman. If I could not be trusted to conduct myself with propriety – well, what was anyone to do about it today? And McAllister was a friend. How strange that it was only now that I recognised him as such. It was all he could ever be, but that was more precious than anything else he might have been. He was my bridge between my old life and my new one. I tightened my hold on the sleeve of his coat and followed him.
We stopped among the beeches.
“Did you ever climb trees?” He asked. “When you were a child?”
A sudden memory caught a lump in my throat. A sunny day, years ago. I could have been no more than ten. Harry carrying me on his shoulders to deposit me in the crook of one of the trees in the garden. I looked at the beech we’d stopped beside. It might even have been this one; my memory was too hazy to be sure.
“No.” I wished Harry were there now, to give me a boost on his shoulders. I could hardly accept such a thing from McAllister. I glanced down at my dress. I couldn’t accept such a thing at all. “No. And I can’t start now.”
He smiled, his teeth bright in the moonlight. “With respect, Your Highness. Now is exactly the time to start. I will be your guide, and I am your only witness.”
He fell silent then, waiting for me to make my decision. I realised: I was on the bridge with him. Done with being an English princess, but not yet become a Scottish one. Tonight was a night out of my life. When anything could be possible.
“Very well. If anything happens, you are sworn to secrecy.”
“My lips are sealed.” He guided me up so I sat in a cleft in the tree, feet dangling. McAllister scrambled after me and stood on the next branch up. “Look.” He pointed to the sky through the branches. The full moon seemed to fill the sky. And it glowed with a strange, red light. “It’s called a blood moon,” he said before I could even frame a question.
I’d liked the view until that point. I shivered, hitching forward. “Let’s go back inside.”
“No, no, blood isn’t bad.” He crouched down so our faces were level, tilted to the moon. “Blood is strong, and pure. The blood in your veins is the essence of you. A blood moon marks a strong start.”
I met his gaze, reading the reassurance in his eyes. Blood held, not shed. My blood, which would mix with that of the Scottish prince, and between us we would put a stop to the bloodshed between our nations. I nodded to McAllister. “You are right. A blood moon is a good omen.”
He smiled. “The best.”
We watched the round moon. A bird called somewhere in the trees. The wind shifted and blew wisps of cloud over the moon, but it shone through it all.
I would have stayed there all night, but nothing lasts forever. It was a yawn I couldn’t stifle that broke the spell.
“I shouldn’t keep you up any longer,” McAllister said. “We all have an early start in the morning.”
He scrambled down the tree, then turned and lifted his arms. “If I may, Princess?”
I nodded and scooted forward. His hands were firm at my waist. I set mine lightly on his shoulders and he swung me down so the grass met the soles of my slippers.
“Thank you,” I told him.
He smiled, but shook his head as though he’d done nothing to deserve thanks. Taking a step away, he met my eyes as he bent one knee to the dew-damp ground. “Your Highness, may I be the first to welcome you to Scotland, your new home?”
I didn’t hold back my smile as my heart soared up to meet the moon. “Thank you, Mr McAllister. You are very kind.”
“When we arrive, I will be the first to congratulate the prince. He is a lucky man.”
I ducked my head to hide my blush.
“Come, let me return you to your ladies.”
I set my hand on his sleeve and we retraced our steps into the palace. I left McAllister at the bottom of the grand staircase and went to bed with a lighter heart than I’d carried for months. Tomorrow I would set off to the border, seeking my new husband and my new life.
Finally, I felt ready for it.
THE END
The world of the clockwork war
Thank you for reading The Replacement Princess. This is a prequel story to the clockwork war series. First novel in the series, The Clockwork War, is available exclusively in Shattered Worlds, a collection of 23 YA stories. You can pre-order a copy now for just .99 (it releases 8th August). Get more details on the Shattered Worlds website: https://www.shatteredworldsboxset.com/
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