Page 9 of Balance
Then it was over. Even though I’d startled it, the beast was the first to back away, lowering himself back to all fours and turning from me. The silence rustled once more, and then, distantly, the regular sounds of the woods resumed.
I let out the breath I didn’t know I’d been holding and lowered the walking stick back to the ground. The weapon wasn’t exactly like my bo staff, but it would work in a pinch.
And angering a bear was definitely a pinch.
I pressed my hand against my stomach as it rumbled, and I frowned as the bear moved out of sight. This trip was already running longer than expected. Thankfully, I always prepared for the worst. I’d packed an overabundance of ramen noodles, but this wasn’t the best place to boil water. I could clear a spot though.
My hand pressed against my pocket—I still had a good supply of trail mix too. I wouldn’t starve.
But I was in very real danger of falling behind.
There was no time to stop unless necessary—food could wait, and abstaining was a part of the trial. I had to succeed in my mission as soon as possible; that would be the only way I could face Bianca again.
Chapter Four
Bianca
Gift
I ditched dinner—takeout again—and hid in my room the rest of the night. Julian was concerned, of course, but it was difficult to explain.
Hiding in Miles room wasn’t the best long-term plan, because the others wanted to know why I’d insisted on staying. Throughout the course of my mission, I’d cleaned everything. The stains were scrubbed away, the curtains rehung, and pine fresh olive-colored sheets tucked into the bed. I even washed and folded all his laundry, and it lay in neat piles in the corner of his space.
There was nothing left for me to do.
But I didn’t leave empty-handed—Sinful Responsehad found a new home with me.
I would have plenty of time to return the book. For now, though, snuggled on my beanbag chair, under a fluffy blanket, and armed with a thermos of hot chocolate and Pepperidge Farm Milano cookies, I was content.
Still, why did I feel guilty? That was stupid. This wasn’t such a big deal; it wasn’t like the books were a secret chronicling of actual events.
Or at least, I hoped not.
So far, in the absence of any sort of romance, Bernard had spent the majority of time in his treasure room, comparing Caroline’s physical attributes to food: mainly baked goods, fruits, and various cuts of meat. Meanwhile, Caroline—the peasant maiden—pined away in prison for her captor; for some reason, she was already madly in love with the earl that she’d only glimpsed once.
The whole thing was rather illogical. If she’d been brought in as a prisoner, she should have been filled with panic and despair.
So how could she be breathless from the memory of his handsome face, and heated over the memory of the dark, wise glint in his eyes?
Honestly, this whole series was unbelievable. She should at least be a tiny bit concerned over her impending death at the hands of an untried ruler. This story wasn’t even remotely close to historically accurate.
It was entirely accurate, though, to say thatSinful Responsewas, by far, the worst thing I’d ever had the misfortune of reading in my life. Yet I persevered through the tripe… for Miles.
There had to be a hidden message somewhere.
In fact, even the naughty bits held my attention—as Bernard was blessed with quite the imagination. It was difficult to find offense at pastry and meat cuts.
The others thought I was depressed. I heard them whispering about it earlier. But that was far from the truth.
This book was actually helping. In fact, even though it sounded quite crazy, the further I got, the more familiar it felt—as if I was unraveling a long-forgotten mystery about our shared past.
But that was impossible.
Bernard couldn’t hold back anymore. Caroline had been on the earl’s thoughts and racing through his dreams since the moment she’d arrived. It’d been the longest twenty-four hours of the ruler’s life, and the agony he suffered was unbearable.
He’d tried to sate his desire with other activities, but it was impossible as Caroline’s luscious peach bosoms filled his imagination and left little room for anything else. The matters of the state be damned. Once he claimed victory, how would the salt of her skin taste?
These thoughts consumed him, and he’d tried to move on. But even his best whore had been unable to abate his hunger. As her pink-skinned, blond-haired curves bounced over him, and even as he reached completion, all he could think about was Caroline.
