Patchwork II

“What’s your name, pretty maid?” said the Elfin-knight.

The princess’ eye turned steely. “My name's lost, as are my people.”

“I must call you something.”

“I’m a clockmaker, call me that.”

“Clockmaker.” He rolled the sound over and under his tongue. “Very well.”

He presented her to his mount, sea foam white with horn of ivory and a dished face.

“You’ll ride behind me on a pillow.” He snapped his fingers and a cushion appeared on the crupper.

The mount’s goat tail lashed.

“My mount doesn’t like you, Clockmaker.”

She snorted. “It’s a unicorn, why would it like me?”