A New View

First Run-Ins

"I'm sorry," said the boy who ran into me. In a noticeably different accent. "I should have been looking where I was going."

"It's alright," I say carefully to use my practiced accent, I would need to use it in public from now. I helped the boy up. He was not much younger than me. I was fourteen, and he looked thirteen, maybe fourteen. He was definitely shorter than me with longish dark blond hair. His eyes were leaf green but I could barely see them through his hair. "I was distracted by the sights"

"They're pretty, umm, dirty," he said, taking what I said the wrong way. I meant well, I was mesmerized. While reading the book I longed to see everything in person. "What's your name?"

"Phillipa," I say, deciding to stick with the name. "Yours?"

"Sage," he says. My mouth dropped open and my thoughts raced. Could this really be him? Could it be the same sage I read about in Jennifer A Nielson's books? "I know it's a stupid name."

"Oh, no," I say "I don't mind the name I."

"It's okay," said Sage "I've got to go, maybe I'll see you around. After all, it's a small town"

"Alright, sage" I nearly choke out the name. Mainly because I could not believe this was real, but the pain in my side said otherwise. Also because I knew better if that was the same sage from the false prince.

"Bye," he said. Then he turned down the street and left.

"See you soon" I whispered slyly and with what I only could assume was an evil grin on my face.

I turned down the street in the other direction, looked down, and continued walking in my thoughts. Not long after that, I ran into another man but this time I landed on my rear end.

"Watch where you're going, girl do you know who I am," said the man. He had dark brown eyes which glared at me, his lips were pressed in a tight frown barely visible behind his neatly-trimmed brown beard. I shake my head in answer. "Well, I am a nobleman named Bevin Connor." This time my surprise was not as overwhelming and I already had a plan for when I ran into him, figuratively.

"Realy," I said excitedly. "I was actually going to head to your home sir Conor. My family is going through a hard time and my mother asked me to get a job as a servant. I went to many other noble's homes and was declined. I was hoping that you would let me be your servant. My sister is sick and she is only six years old. Please sir Conor." I could tell my story was working and he felt some pity for me. Hopefully, it was enough.

"Yes," he said. "I am actually in the business for some new servants. I was hoping for boys but why not a girl? What is your name, and your skills?"

"My name is Phillipa," I said, "And I can do many things including and not limited to baking, cooking, sewing, and cleaning."

"Brilliant," said Conor "I have the perfect spot for you Phillipa. My kitchens will need to work harder for the next few weeks so a few extra hands won't hurt. My vigil will take you to our cart."

I finally noticed the man next to Conor, he was tall, dark-skinned, and nearly bald and could only have been Mott. Mott led us around the corner to a cart with two boys already in it. A man was standing next to the cart. The man was short, about the same height as me, he was a little pale and had a thick crop of bold hair that was tied back at the nape of his neck. He was Cregan. I heard a cough and quickly snapped my neck to the boys in the cart. The one who was coughing looked sickly and pale. He was Latamer, my heart could not help but ache when I saw him. The other boy was larger and tanned. He was Roden. Latamer and Roden had light brown hair, though Latamer's hair was nearer to blond. He had rounder features as well.

"Here let me help you up," said Mott offering me his hand. I thanked him, careful to not use his name, knowing that I would seem suspicious if I did, and stepped into the cart.

"Sir Connor, what is she here for," asked Roden, eyeing me.

"Kitchen help, Roden," said Connor. One name I could use now. "Take a seat Phillipa, I will be back soon."

I deliberately went to sit next to Lattimer, so I could talk with him before tonight. My heart instantly fell at that thought. I am pretty sure that Latamer sensed my sensitive thoughts and asked in a soft voice "My name's Latamer, your Phillipa right."

"Yes," I say

"Philipa, what are you thinking about?"

"The future," I say sadly

"Oh, what about it," he said.

"I don't know," I say lying, I knew exactly what I was thinking about. I was worried that I could never get out of this world. I was worried about being present for murder. And I was worried about being murdered. But I knew to go home I'd have to see this through.

A little while later I noticed Mott standing next to the edge of the street as a boy. Hang on, is that sage running down the street with a chunk of meat in his hands? I almost cried out to him about Mott but had to hold back. Mott tripped Sage and the man chasing him laughed and started to kick Sage in his right side. I almost laugh at the irony, Sage's right side is targeted so much throughout the books. Across from me, I hear Roden stifle a laugh. I quickly turned around and shot him a glare. He was silent after that. Conor quickly intervenes with Sage's punishment. Conor and the man Also Known as the Butcher talked. And the Butcher turned, gave Sage one last kick, and left stomping away. Sage was still hunched on the ground until Connor picked up Sage standing him up. They walked into the building next to us with Mott and Cregan trailing not too far behind.

A little while later Cregan came out with Sage slumped over his shoulder unconscious. He dropped sage rather roughly on the cart. He found some rope, climbed into the cart, and bound sage's hands together. Roden leaned over to Sage, probably to make sure he was breathing.

"Leave that one alone," said Conor, and Roden quickly moved away from Sage. "We have one more stop to make, we will be there later today." Mott took the reins for the horses and left.