Grin fading, Bryony felt a hand on her shoulder to pull her back to her seat before reaching back to slam the window shut, glass trembling.

“What have I said about opening that?” The nursemaid forced Bryony to sit, huffing. “It’s dangerous.”

“Told you,” mumbled Bluebell.

“Nothing’s out there, Gwenyth,” Bryony grumbled. Several years ago, a blackbird came through an open window to find the source of bread crust Bryony had been tossing outside. Gwenyth screamed until a guard carefully shooed it out, not appreciating Bryony’s laughter, and remained convinced something more dangerous might get in. “And I’m bored!”

“Should have brought a book like your sister,” said Gwenyth, Bluebell’s brief smile the only indication she heard the comment.

Frustrated, Bryony stuck her tongue out at Gwenyth, who’d turned to her basket.

“Put that away before it gets stuck,” Gwenyth said without turning to look.

Not sure she believed it, Bryony withdrew her tongue, “I hate this trip. Why do I have to be here?”

Gwenyth pulled out a fan, opening it with a flick of her wrist and shake of her head. “You know why, little one. It’s been this way for many generations.”

“But I always get stuck playing with Sedrick, and he’s mean!” One of the few at the Gathering close to her age, Bryony was pushed to play with him, but despite being just a year older, Sedrick thought himself better than her. Instead, the older boys took him under their wing, all of them teasing her until she cried or they got bored.

Last year, Sedrick convinced her to go into the complex garden maze, both going deep inside before he suddenly abandoned her. The guards and her father found her hours later, shivering and sobbing, and Bryony didn’t want to leave her parent's side for days. Sedrick’s mother made him apologize, but Bryony hadn’t forgiven him.

“Boys will be boys,” remarked Gwenyth dismissively, fanning herself.

Bryony’s hands curled tightly in her lap. “Then boys are stupid.” She was so upset with Sedrick that when his family came to visit a few months later, Bryony faked sick. Her mother saw through it yet still permitted her daughter to hide in her room.

If only she could do it this year, too.

“Would you rather spend time with your older sisters instead?” questioned Gwenyth with a raised eyebrow, laughing when both her charges grimaced at the thought of gossip, needlepoint, and drinking endless pots of tea. “And don’t forget,” she added, “Lady Anya will be there, too.”

“She hates me,” Bryony reminded her. Another close to her age, Anya stayed as far away from her as possible, as if she carried a terrible disease. When forced to be near another, Anya was either blatantly ignoring Bryony or glaring at her.

“Maybe because she has feelings for Sedrick,” one of her sisters commented when Bryony complained. “And doesn’t want him spending time with you instead of her.”

“But he picks on me!” Bryony had argued, not understanding. Her sister had simply shrugged.

Probably thinking Bryony was acting silly, Gwenyth shook her head. “It’s only a week, and then we go back for another year.” She gave Bryony a look. “Can you last that long?”

“Probably not,” Bryony grumbled, slumping in her seat. At least when they reached Ionna Castle she could escape the carriage and breathe. She bounced a leg anxiously. As her parents often remarked, Bryony’s energy was too much for her own good.

Well, they did when they paid attention.