This was a hunt meant to supply the Court with meat for the Sovvan Feast tonight. If Sovvan hunt-luck meant luck for the rest of the winter, as the old folks said it did, the winter would be a prosperous and easy one. Already they’d brought down a half-dozen deer this morning—several bachelor bucks and a couple of does that everyone agreed were past their bearing prime. That was enough venison that Faram had sent back the deerhounds and brought up the boar-hounds. The Queen and her ladies were coursing the woods and meadows nearer the Palace, taking their hawks out after birds and hare.

Most of the ladies, that is—

He looked back over his shoulder, to see that the handful of women who’d ridden out with the King’s party were still there, keeping up valiantly, and already outdistancing the likes of the Lord Baron.

Last year there hadn’t been any women with the King’s party, but since Kero’s arrival—and example—there were a respectable number of ladies exchanging their skirts for full-cut breeches, and riding neck-and-knee with the men. And some of those ladies were not young; Lady Sarnedelia, who had a formidable reputation as a rider on her own estate, had hailed Kero’s “innovation” with relief and enthusiasm. She was right up there beside the best of the riders, proving rumor to be truth—and she was fifty if she was a day.

I can’t help but wonder how many others would have joined us, but weren’t willing to risk losing suitors or enraging husbands. I know the Lord Baron’s daughter looked as if she ’d rather have been with us. His granddaughter is, and I’ll bet that’s what kicked off that tirade about “disgrace.” Of course, she’s safely wedded to young Randel, and she can snap her fingers at what her grandfather thinks, since her loving spouse thinks that everything she does is wonderful. And if I could find a lady that suited me as well as she suits him, I’d probably think the same. Huh. Wonder whatever happened to that little prig Daren, who was horrified at the notion of “Lady Kerowyn” riding to hunt exactly like this? Maybe he grew up.

He leaned forward into his horse’s neck, ducking a low-hanging tree limb. He saw a fallen trunk just ahead of them, and braced himself for the jump.

The gelding took it, but stumbled; he recovered quickly, but not before he’d made Daren’s teeth rattle.