Cinnamon stood nervously in the doorway while Vitus' father frowned at him. The tired-looking middle-aged man sat in his own office, larger and better-appointed than his son's. Cinnamon usually found this room comfortable and welcoming; hot air ducts beneath the flagstone floor always kept the room warm, and it was filled with the familiar scents of musty old documents and sharp, vinegary ink. At the moment, however, Cinnamon did not feel comfortable at all. Vitus’ father was glaring, his usually placid expression replaced by a stern, angry countenance.
“Cinnamon,” the old man barked, “I don't suppose you know the location of my son?”
Cinnamon blanched, and stuttered, “N-no, my lord. Did he not attend luncheon?”
“He did not. Now, where is he? I am sure you must know.”
“I'm not sure, my lord. He – he received a letter from Miss Aemilia, this morning.”
“A letter from Aemilia?”
“Requesting a meeting, my lord. Today, outside of the town.”
“And you did not accompany him?”
“N-no, my lord! Not when he was going to see his fiancée!” not to mention, Cinnamon thought, when he didn't tell me he was going.
“Go get him. Immediately. He has no business being away without informing me where he has gone. And he has no business being unchaperoned with Aemilia in gods' alone know what private place.”
“No, sir,” Cinnamon agreed, quietly.
“Go find him then. And do not return without him.”
“Yes, my lord. But it might be difficult. You know how he is when he meets with Miss Aemilia.”
Vitus' father frowned, angrily. “I mean it, Cinnamon. You will find him, and you will convince him to return. Even if it takes all night. And all day tomorrow. You will not be permitted to enter this home, or any of my other properties, nor meet or speak with anyone of my household, until you bring my son home with you.”
Cinnamon nodded, his mouth growing dry. Who knew how long he'd be stuck out there looking for Vitus?! What if it started to rain? And he couldn't even go ask his mother for a snack first, given the master's orders!
“Yes, my lord,” he said, resisting the urge to sigh.
YOU ARE READING
The Baby and the Battlefield
FantasyA baby? On a battlefield? Marcus is a clerk in the Imperial army. When he finds an abandoned baby on a battlefield, he has no idea what to do with her. His best friend is no help; he thinks Marcus is a sucker for taking the kid in. The slave who end...
