Pale Kings and Princes
day, and second-year students were allowed off campus. There was no reason not to go out with Isabelle immediately. Except that he’d had no time to prepare, no time to come up with a game plan, no time to obsess over his hair and his “casually rumpled” look, no time to brainstorm a list of discussion topics in case conversation flagged . . . but then, none of those things had saved their previous three dates from disaster. Maybe it was time to experiment with spontaneity.
    Especially since it didn’t seem like Isabelle was giving him much of a choice.
    “Now it is,” Simon agreed. “Should we invite Helen?”
    “On our date ?”
    Idiot . He gave himself a mental slap upside the head.
    “Helen, you want to crash our romantic date?” Isabelle called.
    Helen emerged from the bedroom. “Nothing I would love more than being an awkward third wheel,” she said. “But I’m not actually allowed to leave.”
    “Excuse me?” Isabelle’s fingers played at the electrum whip wrapped around her left wrist. Simon couldn’t blame her for wanting to strike something. Or someone. “Please tell me you’re kidding.”
    “Catarina laid a circle of protection around the cabin,” Helen said. “It won’t stop you from coming and going, but I’m told it will be rather effective if I try to leave before I’m summoned.”
    “Catarina wouldn’t do that!” Simon protested, but Helen put out a hand to quiet him.
    “They didn’t give her much of a choice,” Helen said, “and I asked her to just go along. It was part of the deal.”
    “That is unacceptable ,” Isabelle said with barely concealed fury. “Forget the date, we’re staying here with you.”
    She was lit up with a beautiful glow of righteous rage, and Simon wanted suddenly, desperately, to sweep her in his arms and kiss her until the end of the world.
    “You will most certainly not forget the date,” Helen said. “You’re not staying here a single second longer. No argument.”
    There was, in fact, plenty more argument, but Helen finally convinced them that being stuck there with them, knowing she’d ruined their day, would be even worse than being stuck there alone. “Now please, and I say this with love, get the hell out.”
    She gave Izzy a hug, and then embraced Simon in turn. “Don’t screw this up,” she whispered in his ear, then pushed them both out the door and closed it behind them.
    There were two white horses neighing by the front path, as if they were waiting for Isabelle. Simon supposed they were; animals in Idris behaved differently from how they did back home, almost as if they could understand what their humans wanted and, if you asked nicely enough, were willing to deliver.
    “So, where exactly are we going on this date?” Simon asked. It hadn’t occurred to him that they would ride into Alicante, but of course, this was Idris. No cars. No trains. Nothing but medieval or magical transportation, and he supposed a horse was better than a vampire motorcycle. Marginally.
    Isabelle grinned and swung herself up onto the saddle as easily as if she were mounting a bike. Simon, on the other hand, clumsily heaved himself onto his horse with enough grunting and sweating that he was afraid she’d take one look and call the whole thing off.
    “We’re going shopping,” Isabelle informed him. “It’s time you get yourself a sword.”
    *   *   *
    “It doesn’t actually have to be a sword,” Isabelle said as they stepped into Diana’s Arrow. The ride to Alicante had been like something out of a dream, or at least a cheesy romance novel. The two of them astride white stallions, galloping across the countryside, charging across emerald meadows and through a forest the color of flames. Isabelle’s hair streamed behind her like a river of ink, and Simon had even managed not to fall off his horse—never a foregone conclusion. Best of all, between the rush of wind and the thunder of hoofbeats, it had been too loud for conversation.
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