Alek could hardly believe his eyes.
It had been, perhaps, seven years since he had last seen her, but there she was. Many things failed him. He had scars as a testament to the times his wits, his speed, his ability to hold his liquor, had all failed him. There was, however, one facet of himself that he was sure that he could trust. His memory.
His father had brought him to court once or twice. Certainly not as often as, say, his real sons, but often enough. On one of those occasions, he had read a book he had smuggled in. On another, he had fallen asleep. On the third, his father forced him to pay attention. On that day, Princess Fyaira had been there. He couldn't help but laugh. This tavern was dingy even by outer ring standards. He didn't even like this place, which certainly said something about the establishment. As he approached the Princess, one of the serving girls bumped into him. Or rather, one of the "Serving Girls" had bumped into him, based on the seductive look in her eyes and the amount of time her flat palms lingered on his chest.
"You look lonely." She practically purred.
"Yes, very." He said. "And flat broke." She rolled her eyes on stepped to the side allowing him to pass. He hadn't lied. He was flat broke. Though, if his plan worked out like he was hoping, it might not be that way for long. He slid into a chair next to the Princess. Before there could possibly be a reaction, he leaned towards her and whispered.
"Have you heard? They say the youngest Princess escaped the Rebels." He sighed. "I do not envy her right now. Imagine, she's got enemies at every corner. Oh, she's doomed. Unless of course, she can find a brave, handsome, fearless soul to guide her to safety. Of course, such a stranger would doubtlessly need a reward. After all, the Princess has a hefty bounty on her head." He leaned back in his chair with a smug smile. "Or so I've been told."
shylarah
Zoie Hart
