A Posse of Princesses by Sherwood Smith Page A

library was.
“I know what I’ll look for,” she said. “Something romantic, not
tragical, and not a war-play, because I don’t know anything about
sword-fighting.”
    “That’s what all the boys will be seeking
out,” Shera predicted. “We need to find one that has good parts for
girls.” Thunder crashed again, and she ducked her head as the
windows rattled. “I’m going to bed and bury myself under the
covers,” she announced. “I hate thunder!” On those words, she
flitted out the door to her own room.
    Rhis lay awake for a while longer, thinking.
She rather liked thunder. It reminded her of the sudden storms at
home.
    Besides, thunder suited her mood. So Vors had
been flirting for a purpose that had nothing to do with her,
despite all those compliments.
    I would be in love with Lios even if he
wasn’t a prince , she thought firmly. She imagined his tall,
handsome form in—well, a scribe’s clothes, and he looked just as
tall and handsome.
    So there.
    She flung herself over, pulled the pillow
round her head, and tried to go to sleep.
    oOo
    The next morning she was late to breakfast
because her maid needed to fit her masquerade gown to her. Rhis was
delighted to discover that she was going as Eranda Sky-Born, a
fabled princess from another world who had come, as a formidable
mage, to right any wrongs she saw.
    Rhis didn’t believe that Eranda—if she were
even real—had been tall and skinny with plain brown locks, but she
was more than happy with her gown, which was made of floating
drapes with tiny beads winking here and there among the folds. It
was a very old-fashioned style, and Rhis liked herself in it.
    After the fitting, she skipped down to
breakfast, sitting with Carithe, Shera, Glaen, Breggo, and a
growing group of friends, everyone talking at once.
    Lios appeared at the door. Rhis happened to
look up, and when she saw him glance their way, she flushed.
    Silk rustled and Iardith walked by, her
expensive scent drifting on the air. The red-haired Hanssa minced
beside her, gemmed gown whispering.
    With supreme confidence the two walked up to
Lios, slid their arms expertly through his, and led him firmly to
their own exclusive table—a small one, deliberately chosen to keep
down the number who could sit there.
    Then Iardith stopped short.
    Shera stopped talking, and watched in the
same direction Rhis watched.
    At the exclusive table, two of the empty
seats had been taken by Dandiar and one of the newest arrivals, a
shy girl named Thirash, from one of the islands.
    Iardith stepped away from Lios, whom Hanssa
walked with to the waterfall.
    Dandiar was talking to Thirash, wiggling his
finger like sword fighting.
    “That’s my seat,” Iardith said, clear enough
to be heard by the watchers.
    Dandiar and Thirash glanced up, clearly
startled. “I—I did not know—it was empty—” Thirash said.
    “It’s my place,” Iardith repeated.
    “That’s all right. We’ll move.” Dandiar
picked up his plate.
    Flushing, Thirash picked up hers, and they
shifted to a table on the other side of the waterfall. Hanssa
brought Lios smoothly back to Iardith, who had slid her arm through
Jarvas’s. The four sat down.
    “Oom! It is the herded,” came a high voice
just behind Rhis. “Herded? Grouped? Om! Too much pipples.”
    Rhis turned her head, to find Yuzhyu standing
nearby, holding her plate. The princess’s brows wrinkled in
perplexity as she looked at Lios’s table—now full. Two or three
people passed her by, but no one spoke.
    Lios’s head was turned away—Iardith was
talking to him—so he didn’t see his cousin.
    Rhis said, “Would you like to sit here?” She
scooted her chair closer to Shera’s, to make space. “We can bring
another chair.”
    The princess blinked at Rhis, who felt that
anxious gaze searching her face, and then Yuzhyu gave a small,
rather tentative smile.
    “You speak to I, mmm?”
    Rhis spotted an empty seat at the next table,
and pulled it over. Yuzhyu sat down with