I didn't study enough history to know that horse racing included serving tea. I mean, hot afternoon tea, not to talk of those tight dresses with their heavy hems the elite wore. Where would all the tea even go?
"We must serve tea to the ladies seated at the center," Martha was saying. She and the other maidens had their trays and tea sets ready. They were waiting for my order since Matilda had gone to rest.
I slapped a hand over my forehead and turned toward the rows of seats. I caught a glimpse of Tyra in a fine, pink lace dress with a fan over her nose, laughing with the other ladies.
"Very well," I clapped, the sound suddenly jolting Martha and the two other girls.
The race was set to start in about an hour. After the encounter at the barn, I had hurriedly excused myself before I let my emotions spiral. Of course, the King had let me go since all his horses were well-fed and he needed to focus on the game.
