easy to carry."
Gemma nodded, eyes never leaving the balls she juggled in her hands. Eyes begging the question, Katerin looked about the fire.
"We'll be eating afoot today," a woman with skin as dark as night explained. "Once breakfast is complete and we're preparing for our pageant, Gemma will fix our midday meal."
"Aye," a blond man agreed with a wink. "And we'll pack it with and eat when hungry until the show's over and our guests go back to their homes." He leaned forward with a ready smile. "Be sure to get plenty. It'll be a long day."
Ros interjected, "Of course, Cristof eats like he's never had enough. Which is why we make him last in line for meals." As everyone laughed, including the blond, she added, "Else there'd be nothing left for the rest of us."
Unable to help but laugh with the others, Katerin watched as the blond patted his belly, his skinny form contrasting the gluttonous look on his face.
Clapping her hands together, the owner gained the attention of her troupe. "Time to prepare!" she called, her voice reaching all in the clearing. "We leave at midday for the township of Hodsin down the road. Gemma, the fire's yours. Ilia, you'll need to stick close to Minkhat and Sameer for the remainder of the morning. Lucinda and Katerin, I need to speak with you at my wagon when you've finished eating." Rising from her stool, Ros smiled at her troupe. "Today we give our guests the best show ever!"
There was a rousing cheer as the clearing became industrious. Ros, her manner that of a proud and indulgent parent, watched over them a moment before striding to her wagon. Caught up in the excitement, the dark princess watched her go, mind puzzling over what motivated the owner.
Chapter 4
Katerin scratched her scalp, wishing it didn't itch so much. Her waist length hair had been cut, now only reaching her shoulders. With its sheer weight no longer hanging, the gentle breezes made it move, tickling relentlessly. Her nose also itched, but she refused to touch it, not wanting to smear the makeup so diligently applied by Lucinda. Turning in her seat, she looked behind her at the remainder of the troupe.
Four wagons trailed Ros', each with an assortment of colorfully dressed people. A vague grumble could be heard from the next cage, the circus' only tiger pacing about in reaction to the excitement. Cristof was the driver of that particular wagon, the cat being his. Each of the horses had been decorated with feathered headdresses, their manes neatly combed and braided. A handful of people were still at the encampment, finishing last minute preparations for the show. Ilia was there, lending a hand with final costume stitching and practicing the lute for her first performance.
Despite the princess' circumstances, anticipation filled her and she was hard put to not fidget in her seat. Beside her, Ros clucked at the horses and held the reins. Occasionally, she'd glance at her charge, lip curled in humor at the barely contained entrancement.
Breaking through the trees, a small valley of farmland opened before them. Homesteads sprinkled the green patchwork, small dark knots in the distance. The road stretched out before them, bearing directly toward a larger cluster of buildings.
Ros pulled up her steeds, tying their reins about the brake. "Come, Katerin," she said before disappearing over the side of the wagon.
Gulping, the brunette obeyed, stopping long enough to peer down the suddenly very tall traveling abode. She saw the circus owner looking up, impatience flashing, and Katerin lifted her chin in response. With ginger steps, she eased over the side, feet finding the rungs that would carry her back to the ground. By the time she planted herself firmly on the dusty road, everyone else had gathered around Ros at the back of her wagon. The princess drifted closer.
"Hodsin is up ahead," the blonde was saying. "Daiki, release the dogs and have Minkhat help with the hoops. Martim, Tommaso, Cristof, Willem and Katerin will
Gemma nodded, eyes never leaving the balls she juggled in her hands. Eyes begging the question, Katerin looked about the fire.
"We'll be eating afoot today," a woman with skin as dark as night explained. "Once breakfast is complete and we're preparing for our pageant, Gemma will fix our midday meal."
"Aye," a blond man agreed with a wink. "And we'll pack it with and eat when hungry until the show's over and our guests go back to their homes." He leaned forward with a ready smile. "Be sure to get plenty. It'll be a long day."
Ros interjected, "Of course, Cristof eats like he's never had enough. Which is why we make him last in line for meals." As everyone laughed, including the blond, she added, "Else there'd be nothing left for the rest of us."
Unable to help but laugh with the others, Katerin watched as the blond patted his belly, his skinny form contrasting the gluttonous look on his face.
Clapping her hands together, the owner gained the attention of her troupe. "Time to prepare!" she called, her voice reaching all in the clearing. "We leave at midday for the township of Hodsin down the road. Gemma, the fire's yours. Ilia, you'll need to stick close to Minkhat and Sameer for the remainder of the morning. Lucinda and Katerin, I need to speak with you at my wagon when you've finished eating." Rising from her stool, Ros smiled at her troupe. "Today we give our guests the best show ever!"
There was a rousing cheer as the clearing became industrious. Ros, her manner that of a proud and indulgent parent, watched over them a moment before striding to her wagon. Caught up in the excitement, the dark princess watched her go, mind puzzling over what motivated the owner.
Chapter 4
Katerin scratched her scalp, wishing it didn't itch so much. Her waist length hair had been cut, now only reaching her shoulders. With its sheer weight no longer hanging, the gentle breezes made it move, tickling relentlessly. Her nose also itched, but she refused to touch it, not wanting to smear the makeup so diligently applied by Lucinda. Turning in her seat, she looked behind her at the remainder of the troupe.
Four wagons trailed Ros', each with an assortment of colorfully dressed people. A vague grumble could be heard from the next cage, the circus' only tiger pacing about in reaction to the excitement. Cristof was the driver of that particular wagon, the cat being his. Each of the horses had been decorated with feathered headdresses, their manes neatly combed and braided. A handful of people were still at the encampment, finishing last minute preparations for the show. Ilia was there, lending a hand with final costume stitching and practicing the lute for her first performance.
Despite the princess' circumstances, anticipation filled her and she was hard put to not fidget in her seat. Beside her, Ros clucked at the horses and held the reins. Occasionally, she'd glance at her charge, lip curled in humor at the barely contained entrancement.
Breaking through the trees, a small valley of farmland opened before them. Homesteads sprinkled the green patchwork, small dark knots in the distance. The road stretched out before them, bearing directly toward a larger cluster of buildings.
Ros pulled up her steeds, tying their reins about the brake. "Come, Katerin," she said before disappearing over the side of the wagon.
Gulping, the brunette obeyed, stopping long enough to peer down the suddenly very tall traveling abode. She saw the circus owner looking up, impatience flashing, and Katerin lifted her chin in response. With ginger steps, she eased over the side, feet finding the rungs that would carry her back to the ground. By the time she planted herself firmly on the dusty road, everyone else had gathered around Ros at the back of her wagon. The princess drifted closer.
"Hodsin is up ahead," the blonde was saying. "Daiki, release the dogs and have Minkhat help with the hoops. Martim, Tommaso, Cristof, Willem and Katerin will
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