Free Fool's Errand by Maureen Fergus Page B

FOLLOWING DAY , Persephone was up and dressed like the princess she was, Rachel was swathed in the heavy linen bandages of a leper, and little Mateo was garbed in the smart livery of a palace pageboy.
    Azriel—who’d personally selected their travelling outfits—was himself dressed in a richly embroidered doublet of crimson velvet with sleeves puffed and fashionably slashed to reveal a white silk undershirt. To complement this, he’d selected matching velvet breeches, good black boots, a black travelling cloak and a gilded codpiece of such impressive size that Meeka simply could not stop smiling.
    â€œYou don’t think it’s too much, do you, Princess?” he asked anxiously, but with a gleam in his eye.
    Vexed to find herself blushing, Persephone ignored his question in favour of asking him if it was really necessary for Rachel to dress as a leper.
    â€œIt is,” he said as he casually planted his hands on his hips so that both index fingers just happened to be pointing directly at his gilded crotch. “Now, enough idle chatter and gawking at codpieces. Fetch your cloaks—it is time that we were on our way.”

    A few minutes later—after an emotional farewell to Martha and the sisters, who vowed to say nothing to anyone of anything they’d seen or heard within Persephone’s chamber—Persephone peeled Meeka off Azriel and led him, Rachel and Mateo down to the palace courtyard. When they arrived, she was astounded and dismayed to see that Azriel had assembled a veritable entourage to accompany them on their travels: four lowborn men, eight women, four boys and fifteen identically caparisoned horses loaded down with packs and panniers.
    â€œI don’t think this is what my brother, the king, meant when he ordered you to make ‘adequate’ preparations, Azriel,” said Persephone as she leaned down to give Cur a pat on his scruffy head.
    â€œThe king did not order me to make preparations—he asked me to do so,” replied Azriel loftily. “He also granted me permission to freely requisition whatever I required in that regard, and that is what I have done. You are a princess, Your Highness—not only are your comfort and safety of the greatest import, but you are a representative of the royal family about to embark upon a procession through the streets of the imperial capital. It would not be seemly for you to travel like a nobody.”
    â€œWhat he says is exactly true,” came a familiar voice from behind them.
    Persephone turned to see Finn dressed in one of his grandest ceremonial outfits. After embracing Persephone, patting Mateo on the head and uncertainly offering Rachel condolences on the matter of her hideous affliction, he complimented Azriel on his dashing ensemble.
    â€œThank you, Your Majesty,” murmured Azriel with a graceful bow. “Please allow me to apologize for my earlier duplicity and to say that I hope you were not overly shocked when you learned that I was a Gypsy outlaw.”
    â€œI was far more shocked when I learned that you were not a eunuch,” admitted King Finnius, who seemed to be doing everything in his power to avoid looking at Azriel’s ridiculous codpiece.
    Smothering a smile, Azriel bowed again. As he did so, Finn put his arm around Persephone’s shoulder and drew her aside.
    â€œI received a great many gifts for our birthday, sister; it did not seem right that you should leave Parthania without getting any at all,” he explained with a cough as he handed her something wrapped in blue velvet and tied with a silver ribbon.
    Persephone—who hadn’t received a gift from someone who cared since she’d been dragged from the manor house all those years ago—reverently placed the package in the palm of her hand and tugged on the ribbon. Her breath caught as the folds of velvet fell away to reveal a linked bracelet hung with crude charms, an exquisitely crafted silver