Man of the Palace

Amelia poured the bucket of slop into the troughs as the pigs began to slurp it up greedily. 

“Thanks for all the work, Milly,” Farmer Todd gave her a toothy grin. “Here’s your pay.”

His muddy hand put three pieces of silver in her muddy hand. 

“Thanks, Todd,” she smiled. “I’ll see you tomorrow.”

The wonky man watched her leave the farm and walk down the road back to Dewyhill. 

Ten minutes later, as she found herself on the main road of her little town, she heard news vendors waving around papers, yelling the headlines into the street:

“The Prince’s New Courtier!”

“Prince Arthur is to Marry!”

“Just Another Lover or Our Future Queen?”

Amelia frowned, sneakily taking a paper from a vendor when he was not looking. 

As she hurriedly walked barefoot down the street, she read the paper:

KING PHILIP ARRANGES COURTSHIP FOR PRINCE ARTHUR

Prince Arthur of Euphoria is next in line for the throne. The king and queen plan to tailor him into the perfect king for the next few years. 

‘No king can rule without a queen,’ King Philip III declared yesterday at an exclusive interview. ‘It is one of the many duties as king to make sure my son marries the right woman.’

‘Philip and I were brought together by our parents,’ Queen Margaret said. ‘It is a royal Euphorian tradition. The Queen of Euphoria cannot be some girl with her head lost in the clouds. Dear Arthur deserves the best, and Philip and I have achieved that.’

Charlotte Forbesfield, daughter of the noble Lord Forbesfield, lives in Dewyhill. Today, she was sought after by the King’s spies to find if she was ‘the right woman’ for Prince Arthur.

‘I hardly think the country’s top spies should be used for courtship,’ Henry Kennerwood, the Euphorian Chief of Arms objected. ‘I am not into all that romance rubbish. Spies are valuable assets that can only be used for war, not matchmaking. Still, I am loyal to the Crown and His Majesty, King Philip III. He may do what he wants with my men.’

Despite Kennerwood’s comment, His Majesty still decided to go through with using the country’s spies to gather information about the wealthy aristocrat Charlotte Forbesfield.

‘She seems to be a reasonable girl, so Philip says,’ Margaret said. ‘She has a decent amount of riches, a vast number of staff at her fingertips and owns quite a lot of land. She seems to know how to manage her assets well.’

‘Margaret approved of the girl,’ Philip said at the end of the interview. ‘We will be inviting her to the palace to meet the royal family. If this one does not work out, I am sure there are plenty other wealthy ladies who would love to be the queen consort.’

Lord Forbesfield was notified of the crown’s interest in his daughter. 

‘Marriage would be good for my dear Charlotte,’ he said later that day. ‘His Highness, Prince Arthur is a diligent, well-raised young man. I support any decision made by His and Her Majesty.’

The country of Euphoria supports Prince Arthur and Charlotte Forbesfield and wishes them many years of happiness and success.

“No way!” Amelia shook her head. She could not believe all the rubbish in this story. 

Prince Arthur and that Charlotte Forbesfield! She thought. How silly! 

Lord Forbesfield is the one who manages her assets, not her.

She gets all the credit for work she never does. 

How can someone so idiotic be so fortunate?

Her head snapped around when the voice of the news vendor bellowed down the street behind her, “Stop, thief! You didn’t pay for that paper!”

Amelia’s heart skipped a beat as she began to bolt down the street, ignoring the sharp cobblestones cutting deep into the soles of her feet.

The fat news vendor chased behind her, his heavy steps echoing down the road.

Startled townsfolk dove out of the way of the ragged girl and pudgy man ran through the bustling crowds of the ever-busy street. 

Amelia took a far lead out front her pursuer, turning her head to see him far behind. 

She flashed a sly grin. 

Suddenly, something hit her head like a bullet and she fell over.

Amelia groaned, sitting up and rubbing her head. 

Her eyes met his.

She had run into a young, handsome man, probably in his early twenties, with blonde hair and deep brown eyes.

“I’m so sorry!” She cried as he stood up. “That was my fault, I wasn’t watching my way.”

Without a word, he helped her up onto her feet with a neutral expression. 

She turned her head in panic to see the news vendor closing the gap, approaching at a rapid pace. 

The man gave the quickest glance at her pursuer before taking her wrist, not saying anything as he lead her down the street an unbelievable speed.

Amelia did not question him, only letting him take her down the road away from the angry news vendor. 

She glanced at the fat man briefly before her silent helper suddenly whisked her around the corner and into a filthy alley, pulling her against the wall. 

The saw the fat news vendor waddle past, yelling, “I’ll find you!”

Amelia and the young man remained where they were. 

She could not stop her heart beating and panted breathlessly. 

“Thank you,” she whispered. 

“Why was that civilian chasing you?” He murmured quietly. 

She was slightly surprised at his masculine yet kind voice. “He thinks I stole one of his papers.”

“Did you?” He glanced at her with his brown eyes. 

“No,” she lied. 

He lowered his chin slightly. “I see.”

Amelia took this moment to observe him. 

The young man was more than a good head taller her. She could not help admiring his impressively muscular figure. 

He wore heavy layers of black armour decorated with swirls of gold, with a beautiful sword sheathed at his hip. A golden medallion with a round, gleaming ruby was pinned to his collar and shiny insignia of a wolf on a shield droned his chestplate. 

The crest of the Renault monarchy, Amelia thought. This man works for the royal family. 

He looks too young for such a role.

“He will be lurking these streets until he finds you,” he said. “If you reach the fourth avenue, you will be safe.”

How does someone from the palace know these streets so well?

“Thank you again,” she said. “And sorry for knocking you over.”

“You are forgiven,” he nodded, still emotionless.

His hand opened before her, revealing a two pieces of gold. 

Her eyes widened at it. 

“If he catches you,” he said, putting the money in her hand. “To pay for the paper.”

“But I told you, I already paid for it,” she frowned. 

He smiled slightly, making her chest tighten up. “Whatever you say.” 

Turning away, he left her in the alley, heading down the street at a brisk pace. 

She watched him walk away thoughtfully, leaning against the corner of the alley. 

“Hey, is that the paper thief?” A voice in the distance called. 

She suddenly stood up and disappeared down a side street.