Prince and the Pauper: Curse of Surtr

CHAPTER ONE pt2

~ 1 month later ~

Nestled and hidden in the shadows of an alley, Isaura went over her mental goals for the day. It'd been a rough month but she'd made it by.

From behind a vase where she hid, she knew that today would be a hard one. The guards were everywhere and the crowds were extra thick. She knew not why.

Taking a deep breath, she pulled her tattered cloaks' hood over her hair and peeked over the top of the cracked vase. She watched and waited for the perfect opportune moment - no guards.

Eventually, after a while the crowd thinned and no guards were in sight. Checking that the coast was clear of the Kings' henchman, she readied herself. Checking again a second time just to be sure, she moved out from behind the vase. She joined the flow of the crowd towards the fruit and bread stall.

Today she would be stealing for two. A little girl named Suri, aged seven, had run away from an abusive family in the eastern district. Isaura had found her late one night hiding behind some rotting crates in an alleyway. She was half starved and thirsty.

Now it was one month later to the day and Isaura had grown attached to the little girl. As if she'd been born of her own blood and their bond grew stronger every day. Since meeting Suri, Isaura's priorities have changed and she had a new, stronger drive to survive and live.

Isaura moved with the crowd, her eyes and goal focused on the stall just a few meters away. The guards, so far, were nowhere in sight and the people - both nobles and commoners alike - hadn't noticed a thing. But she still kept cautious, alert and inconspicuous. There was no failing today. Little Suri was waiting in the alleyway. Isaura couldn't afford to be caught.

The stall, now just a short distance away, grew closer. Isaura's fingers twitched at her sides, her golden eyes fixated on the single shining crimson apple. The steaming, freshly baked loaves were right next to the fruit basket in front of the stall.

Checking that the coast was clear she prepared to swiftly snatch the juicy apple from the basket, ask the teller to continue to assist the person beside her while she's 'looking' and take the loaf of bread and calmly walk away.

When she reached the stall, everything went smoothly until the apple. She was pretending to search the other baskets, as planned, when something green moved in the left corner of her eye. The shop teller seemed overly thrilled as he beamed at the person to her left. The teller bowed curtly at the waist and Isaura knew then that the person next to her was of nobility. Urgh.

"Ah, Prince Loki! How may I help you?" said the teller smiling from ear to ear. She froze. Loki...? As in Prince Loki...the notorious God of Lies and Mischief! Her heart leaped to her throat and she couldn't swallow it. This just made things all the harder. Her forehead broke out in a cold sweat and her hands began to tremble. He was known for his sorcery and she would be lying if he didn't intimidate her. Though, personally she'd never met him before. And she didn't ever plan to. She wanted nothing to do with royals. Period.

As the teller tended to his 'highness's' needs, she resumed her 'looking', busying herself with finding the perfect apple for Suri. Every once in a while she would steal glances at the Prince in mild curiosity and listened in on their light conversation. Apparently, Thor's coronation had been postponed due to some issues that Loki expressed as 'duly irresponsible for a future king'. So it was Thor that almost plummeted Asgard into war with Alfheim. Idiot. She rolled her eyes with a light scowl. Hmph.

Asgard would fare better without a delusional, brainless moron as its successor flinging a bloody hammer about his head like a child in a grown man's skin. Asgard needed a ruler who considered all his people with no eye for wrenches and feasts. We needed a smart, tactical successor with a brain who did not crave the thrill of war nor was flippant and hot tempered. Or better yet, Asgard would thrive without pompous royals spoiled with life of luxury. She picked up a flawless red apple and smiled. Perfect. Then she noticed that conversation had gone quiet.