Chapter 8: The Wind Took the Picnic

Ruby's POV

The king had brought a picnic blanket large enough for a visiting orchestra.

Bram walked around it carrying our basket.

"Are we eating on this," he asked, "or claiming land?"

Osric took the basket from him.

"I was told six people were coming."

Deborah counted the places with her foot.

"Were the six people horses?"

Sabine arrived with a jug of lemonade and ordinary cups.

She put them in the middle of the blanket.

We had invited her because Corwin was busy arranging her reception.

She'd thanked us without pretending that sounded enjoyable.

The king looked at me when I sat down.

There was something troubled in his face.

I hoped he hadn't decided my answer at the hall was impertinent.

Then I was annoyed that I cared.

The wind lifted a corner of the blanket.

Bram put his boot on it.

Deborah sat on another corner.

Osric moved a basket onto the third.

"There," he said.

The fourth corner blew over his plate.

Sabine rescued the sandwiches before they disappeared.

The king looked toward the attendants waiting by the car.

"Hold the corners," he ordered.

They came at once.

I put my cup down.

"They haven't eaten."

"They can eat afterward."

He said it automatically.

His expression changed when he heard himself.

I touched the blanket between us.

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