𝐂𝐑𝐀𝐕𝐄𝐃│✔

𝐂𝐇𝐀𝐏𝐓𝐄𝐑 𝟏𝟏

"That is for you to decide, Sir Pisces." And with that, I dismiss his presence when my eyes fall on the freshly baked cream buns and picked apples. Taking two of each, I'm about to run back into the comfort of my room, when a strong grip on my forearm almost causes the apple in my hand to grow a brown stain and roll into the dirt. The apple wouldn't have been the only thing rolling in the dirt, hadn't I held back from snapping at the annoying man holding me back from my anticipated lunch.

"Is that all you're eating?"

"Is there a problem with what I chose?"My eyes remain on the bun, almost tasting the diminishing goodness of warm pastry. Was taking two buns too many? An itching nervousness makes me hesitate at the sight of my meal, and I become increasingly aware of the powdered sugar sticking on my fingers.

"With your build, you should eat more if you want to stay well." He advices seriously, his gaze looming over my height with spiked interest.

'My build?'

"And what meal would fit my build in your standards?"I question, a blush creeping up from the tip of his ears to his cheekbones, eventually giving him a full-face moonlight gleam.

"No! No, I'm not..."

"Not what?"

"What I mean is...All I want to say is that...I heard from Dameon that you're very...uhm...active -"

"Active?" I hold myself back from chuckling at his ridiculous stutter.

"In training! As a soldier I mean! You know wielding swords, ripping off some heads, the usual. So I just thought that you would eat a bit more than that." He ends in a weak voice, his eyes darting between my meal and the floor hesitantly. I almost snap at him for meddling in business that has nothing to do with him, but why ground a child that follows the rules he was taught to imply. So instead, I let my logical mind win over my unstable heart, and ask:

"Who is this 'Dameon' you speak of?" The bastard referred to that same name last time too.

"Fuck, my bad...uhm. Dameon is the first name of the King. But don't tell him I told you, understood?"

"Understood, Adonis."

This time, I allow myself to smile at the surprised snort he lets out. The tendrils of his nose flapper like a nestling's clumsy wings, making the blush on his face go about five shades darker. Would the maids still fawn over him after seeing this side of him, I would pay a hundred gold coins to know the answer.

"To answer your question. Yes, this is enough to still my hunger."

Not that it's any of your concern. I'm once again stopped when I aim at the staircase to my chambers a couple of steps later, and this time I don't bother to hide my frown.

"Where are you going?"

"To my chambers." Isn't that obvious?

"You're not eating with the us? The soldiers are on their lunch break, I usually eat with them. It would be nice for you to get to know them."

"Thank you for the offer, but I want to go over the plans for tomorrow one last time." And this is about it for today's social capacity.

"Come on, it'll be fun!"

"I don't think the soldiers will consider having to eat with me fun rather than unbearably awkward."

"As you wish," he shrugs before letting me go again, "See you at diner?"

"I'll see you at diner. " I pass as au revoir, poking my now mild warm patisserie with my index finger in distress.

It took us three days to come up with a plan for tomorrow. At first, the Generals wanted to take on the rather aggressive approach of barging into the camp. Identical to a confusion of wildebeest trampling the soil beneath to a palpitating earth quake, and kidnap the person in charge of the camp there. This method was soon proven to be ineffective, and so began the random spousing of akin guerrilla tactics. Each one containing some form of kidnapping or massacre, all of which require more people than available. Only with the intervention of the King did they calm down their aimless shouting and cared to listen to General Fabien, who may or may not have based his findings off of the mythical fairy subtly whispering her plans to him because she knew that if she was the one presenting them, they would be rejected before reaching everyone's ears. It seems that my afternoon visit to his bureau broke the ice enough for him to take my proposal seriously into account. For that is the kind of prejudiced world we live in. One where a man's word is trusted atop a woman's truth.