The ruby lynx prowled the perimeter of its cage, glaring out at the people beyond the bars.
It seemed annoyed rather than afraid. Affronted by the gawking gaggle of humans disturbing its peace.
But it was so beautiful, so soft yet ferocious, so cute but dangerous. We couldn’t do anything but gawk.
Well, that and put in bids to buy it. Right now, it seemed like a contest between Lord and Lady Repshore, the Marquis of Linore, and a cloaked figure in the shadows I had my suspicions about. I was sure it was him, the way he shifted in place, watching, was all too familiar.
But that was none of my business. Unless he won the lynx, of course. But even then, I knew it would be going to a good home, same if the Marquis came out ahead. I would only step in if the Repshores looked in danger of getting their mean, bumbling talons into it.
Lady Repshore doubled the previous bid, smirking in victory at the silence following her bid. Too soon. The shadowy figure doubled hers, and that was that.
He paid the auctioneer, then motioned for a couple of the porters to pick up the cage. They followed him out of the hall, the lynx still looking unimpressed.
I left soon after. There were no other animals I was interested in. And, since the Repshores had stomped out as the lynx was being paid for, there was no need to be on guard against their purchase of other animals to mistreat.
I was still a little late home, and Mother fussed at me for not allowing myself enough time to rest and prepare ahead of my momentous day tomorrow. She would have gone on forever, if Father hadn’t pointed out that her scolding was keeping me out of bed and away from various night-time beauty concoctions, making the situation worse.
The next day, we left the house a little before lunch. Mother moaned and fretted over how little time I’d had to dress and prettify myself.
Father stepped in just before I strangled her. This time he observed that pointing out my flaws and inadequacies would make me self-conscious and withdrawn, in a moment when I most needed to feel confident, and supported. Mother missed the wink he sent me as she rushed into assurances of my beauty and poise.
How is it that one parent can see you so well, while the other is all but blind?
Our destination was a side entrance of the palace. Not so discreet as to be demeaning, but not so public as to occasion remark.
Mother resumed her fretting as we traversed the corridors of the palace. Eight young women summoned to meet with the Crown Prince, with a view to his marrying one. Why were there so many? And why had I been left to the last?
The whole city was buzzing over the previous meetings, what Prince Marcus had said to Lady Rachel (precious little, her father had done most of the talking), what gift he’d given Miss Hannah Millbourne (a necklace that made her wealthy merchant parents near swoon), the disaster of Lady Madeline’s interview (she’d rejected the Prince’s suit out of love for the Duke of Knightvale, only to be told he’d become engaged to a foreign princess the night before).
Father wanted to know what gift from the prince might please me. I demurred, too many people listening. Besides, I already knew, didn’t I? How was poor Mother going to cope with a ruby lynx in the house?
The DNA of Stories 