Free The Princess and the Hound by Mette Ivie Harrison Page A

She said she should have known when she had seen the ring that it was not for her, a mere stablewoman. She was not worthy of it. And more important, she could not be happy wearing it.”
    His mother? George had always thought of her as serenely happy and self-assured, despite her animal magic. All the things that he was not.
    “I took back the ring, but I told her that she should at least tell me the truth when she said she could not marry me. I deserved that much.”
    “Yes?” said George. Just thinking about his mother pained him. He had loved her so much and lost her. And it had been at least partly his fault. If only he had been able to do more with his animal magic…
    But his father could not understand any of that.
    “That was when she told me of her gift, of the animalmagic she held within her. I had always known that she had a special touch with the horses in the stables, that hounds were calmer around her, that birds would fly to her arm with a single call from her mouth. There were plenty of signs. Anyone could have seen them. Anyone but a man in love.”
    “You didn’t know until then?” George was too astonished to keep silent. He had never been absolutely sure that his father knew his mother had animal magic.
    The king waved a hand negligently, his eyes thickening with tears unshed. “I knew that she was a woman who embodied all I admired. She was kind. She listened to those who spoke to her. She tried to ease pain when she saw it. She did not pay attention to jewels or clothing or titles. She saw clearly to the spirit within. I did not know that it was because she always saw the animal beneath the skin, and so she had come to see humans the same way.”
    George had not thought of animal magic this way. He had always thought that it set him apart, made him different, dangerous. But perhaps it was not all burden. There could be good that came from it. If he could have been more like his mother, that is.
    Still, he could not help turning his head around to be sure that there was no one listening, hidden in the curtains, at the window, or even in his father’s wardrobe. If the truth were known, what would happen to him? What would happen to the kingdom? His father had noother sons to pass it to, and George did not even have any first cousins. His father had been an only child. And King Helm of Sarrey was far more likely to take control in a swift war than either of the second cousins George knew of.
    Yes, King Helm. That was what he must think of.
    “Father, I am no romantic,” George said. He did not intend to take any risk in his marriage with Princess Beatrice. If that meant there was no chance that he would find a love like his parents’, he could live with that. Better, easier.
    “Do you remember nothing of your mother?” the king asked quietly. “Did she not leave any part of herself in you?”
    “I remember her,” said George, stung.
    “Then tell me what she was like. Tell me how you remember her.” King Davit lay back on the bed, so that George instantly regretted his angry tone.
    Still, it took some time for him to find a memory of his mother. The truth was, he did not think about her often. It was too painful. Finally, he began: “She came to me one night when I was supposed to be asleep. I couldn’t, because there was an owl outside my window, hooting his sad life story to all the world. He had lost all his young ones and his mate, and he had decided that he would not eat again, so that he might join them in death.”
    “She heard the owl too,” said King Davit.
    George nodded. “She held me in her arms and told me that she was sorry for the owl but that she thought he was very wrong. She said that all living things have an obligation to live as best they can, no matter what pain comes to them. She told me that I had that same obligation and that my gift, the animal magic, made it stronger in me than in others.”
    George took a breath, then continued. “She said that the animal