Page 31 of Slippers and Thorns
“No thanks,” he grunted. “I don’t need to explain to Father how you ended up skewered on my blade.”
“You think you could?” Over the edge of his book, Michael saw Justin’s eyes light up. “I’d like to see you try.”
“You’re notthatgood, little brother,” he replied, rolling his eyes. “Especially not when I’m—”
“Too worried and angry to hold back?” Justin suggested when he stopped. Michael glared at him. “So fight me. If you won’t talk to me, come fight me.”
“I’m not worried.”
His annoying little brother raised his eyebrows and widened his eyes but made no verbal reply.
“I’m not,” he reiterated firmly.
Ignoring his brother, he buried his nose in his book. Undeterred, the twerp continued to stand there watching him.
He was still on the same page five minutes later when Justin suddenly crossed the room, picked something up, and threw it at him. Startled, he dropped the book and snagged the rather large object out of the air before it hit him in the face.
“Fight me.”
Looking at his hands, he found he was holding his sheathed sword. Persistent brat.
“Fine.” He shoved out of his chair. “You want to fight? Let’s fight.”
Justin just held the door open and grinned as Michael stormed out.
CHAPTER 14
Ella
E
lla flitted around a corner, barely avoiding the notice of yet another guard. He wasn’t wearing his uniform, but even if she hadn’t recognized him, his bearing would have given him away. There were a few members of the royal guard who could blend into the populace, but most of them couldn’t seem to relax out of the poise that the frequent weapons training, marching, and standing at attention drilled into them.
She took a moment to observe her surroundings. While she had just left a local market behind, it appeared that her flight from the pursuing guards had led her into a seedier neighborhood. The dilapidated houses sat near the narrow road. Unkempt gardens sprouted as many weeds as they did flowers or vegetable plants. A few dirty children played outside, but they stopped and watched uneasily when they spotted her.
“What’re you lookin’ at?” a gravelly voice jeered. Startled, Ella spun to find a man with a gap-toothed smile leering at her. “You look a little too fine to be from around here.”
Ella backed away, her distress over Michael, Lady Charlotte, and the frustration of evading pursuit beginning to transform into fear. Thinking of the guard she had left behind in the market, she considered retreating to him for safety. He would most likely drag her back to the castle, but her excursion was proving to be much less relaxing than she had anticipated, anyway.
“I-I’m sorry,” she stammered. “I think I took a wrong turn. Excuse me.”
He grabbed her wrist as she moved to flee. “William!” she screamed, but a hand clapped over her mouth, cutting off her cry. Before she could see if it had been enough to alert the guard, she was dragged away from the alley and into one of the houses.
As soon as she was released, she twisted to face her attacker. “What do you want with me?” she asked, her voice quivering. “I don’t have any money.”
“Are you sure about that?” he replied, scanning her person. “Seems a little unlikely. With hair that well-kept, surely even a servant has enough to make it worth my while.”
Ella put as much space between them as was possible in the small room. “Truly, I don’t,” she pled. “I didn’t grab anything before I left. Please, let me go!”
The man followed her. “I guess I’ll just have to find out for myself.”
Ella desperately searched for something she could use to fend him off. The habitation was sadly lacking in items she might be able to use as a weapon. Even furniture was out of the question – there was only a single stool, and it was on the other side of the room.
Just as he stretched his hand towards her, there was a loud clang, and he dropped to the ground. Ella’s jaw fell open at the sight of the old woman standing behind him, a cast-iron pan in her hands. “Oops,” the woman said, a mischievous twinkle in her eye.
Ella stared at her. “What…?” She couldn’t seem to gather her thoughts.
“Come along, dearie,” the old woman replied, waving her over. “You look like you could use a good cup of tea.”
