The Scarlet Assassin

Chapter Thirty-two

"Carter, come out!" Ace shouted, lazily popping a blueberry in her mouth. She sat against a large rock, not seeming to mind the snow.

From the carriage, a voice shouted back, "No! I-I'm not coming out!"

"But I want to see you in your pretty little outfit!"

Sophie, laying on a blanket, said, "He's already embarrassed, Ace. Don't make this harder for him." She snorted a laugh.

"Yes, your highness." Sophie rolled her eyes but ignored her.

"Carter, I'm freezing my ass out here," Sorin said. He was leaning against the carriage.

"I'm not coming out," Carter reiterated.

I was picking at my nails, sitting against the same rock as Ace. "It's probably not as bad as you think, Carter."

"It is!"

"We won't laugh."

"No promises-" I elbowed Ace before she finished. She shot me a glare. 

"It's... it's pretty bad," Carter said, voice muffled. The carriage swayed slightly as he shifted.

"Carter," Sophie said sweetly, propping herself onto her elbows, "just come out. The sooner you show us, the sooner we can get into the village and you can take it off." There was a pause as Carter contemplated this. And once I thought he wasn't going to speak, he said,

"Okay." There was a pause. Slowly, the door to the carriage swung open. A boy looking nothing like a boy stepped out into the light.

Ace began cackling.

The large robe Carter wore was a deep purple and the fur trimmed sleeves looked like it was from a leopard. It had odd green and blue accents around his neck and collar and puffed sleeves. The matching purple trousers went just above his knee, and white stockings ran underneath all the way down to his feet that had small, nobles men boots with pointed toes. The velvet hat he wore had white feathers poking out the back, and his blonde hair curled around the brim.

He looked, I thought, vaguely like a brooding peacock.

"You look- You look-" But Ace couldn't get her sentence out. Clutching her sides, she doubled over in laughter.

Carter's face turned red.

"Um, well, you look like a rich duke if it makes you feel any better," Sorin said, still leaning against the carriage. His face was drawn up in a wince.

"I look like my father," Carter mumbled. "I hate it."

"It's um," Sophie, mouth hung open, stumbled for a word, "dashing," she finally came up with.

"Yeah for a circus performer, maybe," I mumbled. Ace was still cackling.

"I'm glad I'm amusing you," Carter said bitterly.

We were in the woods, less than a day's ride from Stillburgh. This was our last stop before we hit the village gates, so everyone was changing into their proper uniforms. Sorin already had on the elaborate--and probably uncomfortable--soldier uniform.

There was a rustle in the trees and Rafe stepped out onto the path. I had sent him to the nearby creek to wash off his face and hands, so he looked halfway decent and not as if he'd rolled through mud.

"I have to admit-" Rafe stopped when he caught sight of Carter. "Holy fuck. You look like a purple monkey took a shit on you." Carter's face flushed. He played with his sleeve.

"Hey!" Sophie exclaimed. "He... he doesn't look... that... bad."

"Maybe stumbling over more words will make that statement more believable," Sorin mumbled. Sophie flipped him off.