Free Prisoner by Megan Derr

their best to torment her, though somewhere along the way it had been made clear to all the other boys that they were the only three allowed to do so. When Kalan had drifted off into government and finances, and her brother had taken himself off to fight, Matthias had remained—perhaps not by choice, but he was there all the same. When her father and Iah had both decided to surrender the title, Matthias had seen that it went to her.
    It was a pity he was trying to ruin a good friendships with something as silly as romance. So definitely the rose perfume. That , at least, would make it clear where she stood, as her words seldom had any impact. "I really would make an awful queen."
    Trul rolled her eyes. "Yes, my lady." She shoved the last hairpin into place and stood back to admire her handiwork. The braid, done by dividing the hair into seven sections and weaving them slowly together, shortened it by several inches. With judicious use of hairpins and a few ribbons, the mass was then coiled and looped around the back of her head in an elegant, complicated knot. "You're ready."
    "Thank you, Trul." Esta stood up and shook out the skirts of her black riding habit. "Where did I set my jacket?" She smiled when Trul fetched it from the bed and allowed Trul to help her into it and fasten the gold buttons. "I'll be back before evening bells. Be ready, because I'll have to change in a hurry. Have a quick wash ready; I'm sure I'll need it."
    "Of course, of course." Trul shooed her off. "Just see you keep that hair clean!"
    Esta laughed as she entered the hallway, nodding politely to a few passing servants. Late afternoon sunlight filtered through the colored glass windows, adding strange patterns to the blue carpet lining the hallway. She hummed the tune to her favorite waltz as she walked.
    Passing by a window, she paused. Outside was a glaring lack of green. A few trees clung pathetically to the last of their yellow and orange leaves, but overall everything had turned gray and brown and flat. Clouds filled the distant sky, promising that soon all that barren land would be filled with snow. Once it fell, there would be no traveling. It also meant the soldiers would be returning, free until spring forced them back to the battlefield.
    Sometimes she wondered why they bothered to continue fighting. More often than not it seemed childish, compulsory. Unfortunately, she knew all too well why it continued and wished she did not. Forcefully resuming her humming, Esta continued through the palace. She ran over all that must be done before that evening, silently offering prayers and wishes for a smooth afternoon.
    A familiar voice broke into her mulling. "Esta," Prince Matthias said and bowed. He smiled.
    Despite her ongoing frustrations, Esta had to smile back. "Matthias," she greeted. Then she glared. "My servant is spreading unamusing rumors. I assume, of course, that they are merely rumors."
    "Of course," Matthias said immediately. "I would never dare to hint that I'm angling to make you the Grand Lady of the Yuletide ball. Not on my life."
    Esta glowered. Had they been alone she might have given into the temptation to hit him. Matthias was considered the classic idea of royal beauty, and that smile could lethal on the unsuspecting—even occasionally on those who should have known better. She, however, was immune; growing up together made them immune to many things in regards to each other. "It had better be a rumor," she replied. "What are you doing now? Court shouldn't be out of session yet. They talk longer than that."
    "Don't I know it," Matthias said, and around him, his retainers chuckled. "I told them I had more urgent matters."
    "Like spreading rumors."
    Matthias turned and grinned at the nearest of his retainers, Duke Kalan of Ferra, the last of their little group of lifelong friends. "I'm in trouble."
    "It's remarkable you noticed for once," Kalan replied. "I told you extra sleep would do wonders."
    Laughter filled the hallway;