Ione looked at the Sand girl.
"You will be a wise queen," she said honestly.
Olivie looked startled.
"Thank you. And what will you do without your Prince to marry?"
Ione laughed. "You know as well as I that I was never meant to marry Decca. He'll soon be King and needs a queen to rule beside him."
"Queen Rochelle thinks you aspire to be Decca's queen."
"She does," Ione agreed cautiously.
"If not Decca, then who?"
"The King will find someone for me. He's placed old Lord Gareth Haim of Roc's Nest as protector of the Ashlands. When I come of age, Lord Gareth will retire and my husband and I will become protectors of the Ashlands."
"So you will have your kingdom without your Prince."
"Both kingdom and prince would be better served by you, your grace."
"What do you mean?"
Princess Olivie's words were drowned by a terrible barking. The ballroom was in chaos as Fip, who had grown to a great size in six years, bounded in and pinned Prince Decca to the ground. Beatrise Drake, Ione's governess, dashed after him.
"No, Fip!" she shouted. "Off! Leave off the Prince!"
"Fip!" Ione bellowed at the dog as the highborn ladies who had surrounded the Prince screamed. Decca's four Lords were already rushing to help him and Ione gathered her skirts and quickly hurried to do the same.
"Silence!" Lord Renald Von Garten shouted. When Lord Renald shouted, all listened. Even Fip obeyed the King's guard. Lord Edwin Dreswyck strode from his place beside the King and Queen and swept the dog off the little Prince.
"Beatrise, Ione," he said seriously, "come with me."
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