Frog Meets Girl

Chapter 27--Gabby Ruins Everything

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You're almost finished. Keep going. *hands you some gatorade and slaps your bum* 

 This chapter is also dedicated to CharleyAccepted. You'd better be ready to start posting your stuff, because this story is almost over. Hope that dissertation thingy is out of the way.

“Aah, Gabriella,” said Niccolo Machiavelli. “There you are. Your father has begun to worry that you were not going to come to your own betrothal ceremony. This is the most important day of your life so far.”

He was waiting for her outside the throne room where the betrothal was to take place.

She’d managed to have the guards let go of her at the corner, so she was alone when she met him at the door.

Will is right. He skulks a lot.

“He had no need to worry that I wouldn’t come. I have important business to discuss with the duke, though it concerns you as well.”

“Ah, yes. The matter of the queen. I wondered if you knew. She is very near your favorite haunt, is she not?”

Her eyes widened in surprise.

“Your father was careful to keep it from me, threatening the servants with death if they said a word, but he’s underestimated me, I’m afraid.”

“And you’ve done nothing?”

“No, of course not.  Why would I do anything before the pact is signed?”

Gabby opened her mouth to reply, but just then Isabella swung around the corner at the end of the hall, pushed through the line of guards, and sprinted to the place where Gabby stood. It was the most unladylike display Gabby had ever seen from her.

“Good afternoon, Isabella. My, my,” said Niccolo, “You look worn out. This must be some important news.”

Isabella didn’t respond to his greeting, only whispered in Gabby’s ear, “I need to speak to you alone.”

“Come now, my dear Isabella. Surely we are all friends. There can be no secrets for long.”

That last sentence was an accurate statement where he was concerned.

Just as Gabby was pulling Isabella toward the opposite end of the hall from the wall of guards, the door to the throne room opened and two guards filed out.

“Wait, here she is,” said the first one as he saw Gabby.

“Thought you’d run off,” said the next one. He reached for Gabby’s arm.

It was still sore from her last escort. She twisted so that she was just out of reach. “I am coming. I need a moment, um, so that, uh, my lady-in-waiting can fix my, um--”

“Hair,” finished Isabella. “The guards messed it up when they brought her downstairs. I need to fix it.”

“Guards?” said the first. He threw the word out like an accusation.

Gabby straightened her posture and stared him down, “That is not an acceptable tone of voice to use with a lady.” As she stared him down, she noticed out of the corner of her eye that where there had previously been a line of guards to keep her from leaving the hall in that direction, they had disappeared.

That was odd.

The first guard chewed hard on the inside of his cheek, biting back a retort that would probably be less appropriate. “Yes, your highness,” he said with a hint of sarcasm trailing like a waft of spice onto the end of his sentence. “I only meant that I was unaware of any guards who had been sent for you. I only just got the order from the king himself to find out where you were and bring you in.”