The next morning, Gigi found herself outside her grandparents' room, staring at the wooden door. A maid passed by her and bobbed in respect. Gigi sent the girl a smile and went back to contemplating the door.

Taking in a deep breath, she knocked. There was the soft patter of footsteps and a second later the door was pulled open by one of her grandmother's servants. An older woman with gray hair pulled tightly back into a bun.

"Is my grandmother in there?" Gigi asked.

The woman gave a nod. "Yes, Lady Genevieve."

"Is she busy?"

The servant replied in the negative. When Gigi took a step forward, the servant drew the door back, allowing her entrance.

"She's in the drawing room, Lady," the servant said.

Gigi gave a small smile in thanks and made her way across to the open archway. Morning light splashed across the cream colored carpet and bounced off the soft tan and gold couch and matching arm chairs. The room smelled faintly of lilies. A scent Gigi now associated with her grandmother. Lady Brixton was at a narrow desk, writing away. When Gigi entered, she looked up. A curious expression drifted across her face.

"Genevieve," she said, "is there something you need?"

Gigi stood halfway between her grandmother and the door, as if she couldn't make up her mind on whether to come in or leave.

"Do you have a moment to talk?" she asked. "I understand if you are busy."

Lady Brixton set down her pen and rose.

"Not at all," she said, "I always have time for my granddaughter."

She gestured to the couch. Gigi took a seat beside her grandmother, shuffling through her thoughts and trying to put them in order.

"Now," her grandmother said, "what is on your mind?"

Gigi folded her hands on her lap, mimicking her grandmother's posture.

"Last night..." She paused as if unsure how to continue. Her grandmother made no sound and watched her intently. Gigi took in another breath, gathering up her strength and resolve. "Last night Sir Clay kissed me and proposed."

The words leapt out, as if it were their only means of making it out at all. Lady Brixton's face showed only the barest hint of surprise, in the pursing of her lips.

"Is that so? And your response?" She talked with an even tone, but there was an undercurrent of agitation in her voice.

"I declined his offer, as politely as I could. The whole thing was so sudden I do not know if I did it right or not. He took me by surprise and I was not expecting it. I can not be sure if I did it correctly or not." Gigi's words streamed out as if of their own accord.

Her grandmother raised a hand, damming up the stream. Her face was soft and the agitation had vanished at Gigi's answer.

"You were completely right to refuse him," she said.

A breath of relief slipped out of Gigi's lips.

"You have only known him a short six days," her grandmother said. "And besides, he is far below you in status. A marriage between the two of you would not be wise." She gave Gigi a short smile. "It would not be wise for you, though Sir Clay would stand to gain from the union."

Gigi made no reply, taking in this fact. A fact that she hadn't even thought of. Before she could form a response, her grandmother continued.

"If you are looking for someone suitable to marry I would look no lower than a Duke. Even then it is barely suitable. With your position those that are equal to you are very limited." The edge of Lady Brixton's mouth twitched as if holding in a secret. "One such gentleman that would be a fine match is your eighth cousin, Lord Davin."

"Davin," Gigi said, the thought startling her.

Her grandmother gave an approving nod. "Of course. He is a Lord and we know he comes from an excellent family. I have seen you two interact and you get along nicely. Truly, it seems to me that he would be the only sensible choice to-"

"Grandmother," Gigi said, breaking Lady Brixton from her thoughts. "I do not plan to marry. Not for now at least."

Her grandmother regarded her for a long moment then smiled.

"Of course," she said. "The topic does not need to be discussed if that is the case."

"It is."

"Very well, was there something you wished to say besides telling me of Sir Clay's inexcusable proposal?"

Gigi had, but with knowing her grandmother's views on the matter had her answer. She shook her head. "No, that was all."

Her grandmother put her hand over Gigi's.

"I am glad you told me. I am also proud to see you making levelheaded decisions."

Gigi brightened under the praise, her doubts laid to rest. Her grandmother removed her hand.

"Was there anything else?"

"No, that was all."

"Well then, I shall return to my letter."

Her grandmother rose and Gigi followed. Without another word, Lady Brixton strode back to her desk. Gigi was at the archway, when her grandmother's voice stopped her.

"Genevieve, remember what I said," she said, looking at her granddaughter with knowing brown eyes. "A careless marriage can ruin more than you know."

The words stung Gigi. She nodded, without meeting her grandmother's gaze and left. The same servant, which had greeted her, showed her out.

The door shut behind her and Gigi was left in a quiet hall. A sudden desire to leave the palace swept over her. She crossed to her own rooms and slipped in. Margo was nowhere in sight and Gigi didn't bother ringing for her. Pulling a riding outfit from the wardrobe, she changed, leaving her former dress on the bed.

She left her room, striding purposefully down the long corridor. Even with her thoughts preoccupied with her destination, she couldn't help but admire the greatness of the palace. For this reason she found herself lost three times. After a few wrong turns, she finally found her way to the stables.

The place was a palace in itself, with tall ceilings with thick wooden beams criss crossing it. Stalls with polished doors lined the center aisle. It was alive with sound: the tread of boots on the stone floor, hooves clacking, voices murmuring to each other, a stray whinny of a horse. All of it felt familiar to Gigi.

She walked further into the seemingly endless stable, breathing in the smell of hay, horse and feed. Light poured in from windows, set high in the walls. A bronzed, fair haired servant, carrying a large bale of hay, stopped when he noticed Gigi.

"May I help you, Lady?" he asked.

"Yes," she said. "Where are Lord Brixton's horses being kept?"

"This way."

He hefted the hay onto one shoulder and led the way down a corridor that branched off from the main aisle. Over the stall doors, Gigi glimpsed some of the finest horses: dappled mares and pitch black stallions. As she passed, some turned to gaze at her with intelligent, dark eyes. The stable hand stopped before a row of horses.

"These are his Lordship's, Lady," he said.

"Thank you."

The man bowed his head and left. Gigi walked along the aisle until she found the stall she was looking for. It held a mare with an auburn coat. In the light of the sun it almost looked as red as flames. For this reason, Gigi had named the horse Fire.

Lifting the latch, she entered the stall. At once the mare raised its head and approached her. It nuzzled its velvety nose against her, as Gigi stroked its mane. Her fingers ran through the course hair, the feel of it bringing thoughts of her father to mind. His deep, rhythmic cadence echoed in her ears.

"Beautiful mare, where shall we journey today?" she said in Eldin. The words were soft and soothing like a warm embrace after a tiring day. "Where will your treads fall." She rested her forehead against the horse's, breathing the scent of home. "Should we leave and never come back? Would anyone find us?"

"What are you saying to her?" a familiar voice asked.

Gigi spun around. Leaning on the stall door was Vic. He bowed his head towards her, a quiet smile slipping into place. As she relaxed she let out a breathy laugh.

"Nothing of importance," she said.

Vic gave a nod, though he remained unconvinced.

"Do you wish to go somewhere, Lady?"

"Yes, I want to leave the palace."

Vic straightened, his face going serious. "On your own?"

"Yes."

Vic shifted, his thoughts righting themselves into the correct words. "Lady Genevieve, I must say that I think it unwise to go beyond the palace with no escort. I could ask one of Lord Brixton's servants to escort you, or if it suits you better, I could."

"Could you keep this from my grandparents?" she asked.

Vic faltered for a second then gave a half nod. "If you ask it of me."

"I do," she said. "Bring me Fire's saddle and I can help prepare her as you prepare another horse."

This request sent an amused spark into Vic's eyes, but he left without comment. Gigi turned back to the mare and continued to pet her, murmuring things in Eldin. Vic returned and he paused before passing the saddle to her.

"I can prepare her for you, Lady," he said, propriety forcing the words out.

Gigi reached for the saddle as a means of response. Reluctantly, Vic handed it over. As she worked, Gigi kept up her mindless thread of talk. The words had a soothing effect on the horse.

Surrounded by the smells that had seeped into her father's clothes years ago, she felt his presence solidify beside her. She could hear his deep voice quietly instructing her on the next step. With each bubble of memory the bite of her grandmother's words faded.

Lost in her own thoughts, she drifted away from her surroundings and didn't hear the approaching footsteps. She was bent over, looping a strap around the horse's middle, when someone cleared their throat. Synching the strap tight, Gigi looked over.

The Prince stood at the stall door, peering at her with an expression trapped between curiosity and bemusement. She rose abruptly, some of her recently loosened hair falling around her face. The previous night's interaction darted through her mind. A renewed surge of anger coursed through her.

She turned away and shifted the saddle. In doing so she knew she was breaking every rule of society, but with his accusation fresh in her mind, and her father's shadow beside her, she couldn't find it in herself to care.

"Lady Genevieve," Thayer said, his voice quiet, but with a tone of command. "Do me the respect that is owed me and look at me."

Gigi gripped the edge of the leather saddle, her eyes flashing. "Why? So you can look at me while accusing me of something else?"

Thayer balled his fist, but released it after a second.

"I did not come here to fight with you."

"Forgive me if I find that hard to believe. My opinion of you might as well be as low as yours is of me."

"Turn around." The words were not yelled, but they were spoken with a tone of authority only someone born into power knew how to use.

Gigi did as he said. In her face was all the burning anger and humiliation his words had inflicted. At the sight, Thayer's own sharp annoyance became something less aggressive.

"Thank you," he said.

Gigi held his gaze with cold eyes.

"Was there something you desired of me...your highness?" She said his title with a note of mockery.

Frustrated, Thayer flexed his jaw, restraining his heated words and walked away. Before Gigi even had time to process this he was back, his face deceitfully calm.

"I came to tell you that I was mistaken. Good day, Lady Genevieve."

He left. The simple phrase managed to jolt Gigi out of her current emotions and dump her into surprise.

"What?" she said, the word wrapped in confusion and uncertainty.

She hurried to the stall door, seeing Thayer about to turn the corner. "What changed your mind?"

The words halted him in mid-step. He turned, but didn't move forward. "I spoke with Lord Brixton. I voiced my concerns and he explained to me in what manner you happened to be here."

"You spoke with my grandfather?" she asked.

"He is a respected Lord, I had no intention of hiding what I thought to be true."

A thought struck her and made her pale. "Did you tell him about what brought you to this conclusion?"

Thayer gave her a puzzled look. Gigi's cheeks colored.

"I mean about me...being barefoot...in the fountain."

The confusion cleared from Thayer's expression. "That was not a fact that I brought into light, no."

Gigi let a quiet sigh of relief. The image of her grandfather's look of disapproval subsided, but not before it sparked a new realization in her.

"Forgive me, your highness for my rudeness," she said, her tone respectful.

Thayer dipped his chin in acknowledgment. An uncertain silence passed between them. Gigi shifted and Thayer clasped his hands behind his back.

"Are you...leaving?" he asked, the question stilted.

"Yes. I want to get out of the palace grounds."

Thayer took a step forward. "Do you plan on traveling alone?"

"No, I have someone to escort me."

The Prince gave an approving nod. "Where is it that you plan to go? Do you know Loria well?"

Gigi had no response, since she hadn't thought that far. Her thoughts had merely taken her out of the palace. Thayer shifted but didn't move closer.

"I have business out of the city," he said. He paused as if debating over his next words. "I could take you through some of the best sections, if you wish it."

Gigi was struck dumb by the offer and stared at him. Thayer held her gaze, unflinching.

"You would do that, even though I was rude to you," she asked.

"It seems to me that we have both shared in that crime. With this offer I hope we can get back on a good footing."

Gigi blinked, taken aback. "Really?"

"Yes. You are Lord and Lady Brixton's granddaughter and I plan to treat you as your title deserves." He paused. "Lady."

Though it was a title she had been called over the past couple months, on Thayer's lips and after the treatment she had given him, it felt ill fitting. She bowed her head.

"I am honored by your offer and accept."

Thayer took a step back. "We will meet in the courtyard then." His eyes flickered to the horse he had seen her saddling. "We will leave once you are ready."

He left and Gigi went back to work, playing over the last few minutes in mind as she did. Vic appeared, disrupting her pondering.

"Ready, Lady?" he asked, leading a speckled stallion.

"Yes."

Vic opened the stall door and she lead Fire out. Before she could get far, Vic took the reins from her, with a smile. She let him lead the horses through the stable and out into the courtyard. Along with the Prince was his Steward, Jayis and three armed guards. Thayer turned at their approach and nodded. Vic glanced at Gigi but held his question.

"His highness has offered to guide us through the city," Gigi said.

Vic merely gave a nod in understanding, but Gigi could see the wheels of his mind whirring with the information. They stopped before Thayer.

"Are you ready to leave, Lady," he asked.

"Yes, your highness."

Thayer waved a hand to his entourage and they all mounted their horses. Vic assisted Gigi onto her horse, then got onto his. As Gigi adjusted her dress around her legs, she glimpsed Thayer swinging onto his horse's saddle. He moved as if simply thinking about it made it happen, effortless. His grace was different than Raif's just as Raif's was different from her father's or even Huck's. Before this thought could settle in her mind, the group was moving.

The ringing of hooves on the marble floor buzzed in her ears and drifted away. Vic took up a position behind Gigi, just past her peripheral view. As they clattered through the palace gates, without knowing it, Gigi took a deep breath.

Beyond the solitude of the walls, the world seemed to come alive. Carts and carriages rattled along the streets. The gruff clamor of men's voices stumbled out of doorways, white smoke trailing after it. The accommodating tones of merchants mixed with the demanding words of impatient customers.

Gigi breathed it all in, soaking up the feel of the city. The scent of the sea seemed to be just as much as part of the city as the mortar that united the brick buildings. Along with the salty flavor in the air was the smell of foliage. Something she had missed before was the amount of trees and hidden parks the city held.

Her gaze seemed unable to sit still, darting from one sight to the next. It was as if she had been blind to everything when she was in the company of the Court. Now free from the constant scrutinizing eyes, she let herself be enthralled with the city she hardly knew. It was because of this that she didn't notice the looks of respect the company attracted. Nor the bow of heads and pleased smiles that fell to the Prince.

It was only when Thayer cleared his throat, that she became aware that he had been riding beside her the whole time. She looked at him, unaware of the smile that had kidnapped her lips. The sight of it surprised him and he seemed taken aback by her openness.

"Have you seen much of the city?" he asked, gathering himself.

Gigi shook her head. "Only bits. Not as much as I would like."

"What do you wish to see?" he asked, the emotionless topic putting them on steady footing.

Gigi gave a careless laugh. "I wish to see it all, but I will start with where ever you prefer."

Thayer thought for a moment and nodded.

"Very well."

He directed the group away from the main road and towards the East end. As they went, Thayer gave simple comments about different sections. When Gigi showed herself to be an inviting audience, the comments became more frequent and lengthened.

They passed a park shaded by trees, light cutting through the leaves and dappling the ground beneath it. A cluster of girls sitting with baskets of fruit, whispered to each other. A woman held the fingers of a toddler as it stumbled with its first steps over the grassy surface. Gigi watched.

"I have never seen a city with so many parks," she said, looking to Thayer.

Something like a ghost of a smile flitted across his lips, but was gone before it could settle.

"My mother is the cause for that," he said. "She has a love of nature and decided not only our grounds should have it. For the last ten years she has been adding trees, gardens and parks through the city."

"There was room for these, even with all the buildings?"

"Not at first, but there were parts of the city that were falling into ruin, and she used the abandoned plots to create these." He gestured to a garden overflowing with flowers and burning with color.

Gigi said nothing, simply smiled. After a long stretch of silence, in where the voice of the streets spoke, Gigi looked at Thayer. His posture was upright, not rigid but stately, his face bearing the look of calm authority. For a moment, she thought of swallowing her thought and leaving the peace as it was, but found her words still pushed through.

"You said you knew my uncle, Lord Alton," she said.

Thayer glanced at her, his face revealing nothing.

"I did."

"What was he like?"

He blinked at the question. "Your mother never told you?"

"She shared very little of her life at Court. Her parentage was a thing I knew about, but never fully