The Prince's Curse

Chapter 5 - Penduline

Aleksander's irritation towards the sun soared as he rode to the nearest village. The heavy, hot rays beat down on his jacket-clothed torso, causing sweat to form all over his body. The road to Penduline, the closest town, was misshapen. It was a simple dirt path that was not covered by any trees. While this prevented roadside robberies, it also increased how displeasurable the trip was. Aleksander had barely begun and now only wanted to go home.

Maybe I am pampered, he mused. Nah, I ate fast food on Thursday. Nothing screams commoner like chicken nuggets and fries.

He considered ditching his jacket altogether before deciding against it. He needed to look put together and so the jacket had to stay.

Great, he thought. Now they won't have to see me coming, they'll be able to smell me.

He almost laughed at how William and his other friends would pester him about being sweaty.

As a boy Aleksander was quite chubby, which caused him to sweat significantly more than his peers. To this day, his close friends would always point out when Aleksander sweated, even if they were drenched more then himself.

Upon seeing the small, healthy looking village in the distance, Aleksander felt a surge of joy. The village had been struggling after a series of droughts and now seemed to be back on its feet. His brother had really taken charge during this time and life went smoothly for Aleksander.

Aleksander's focus then directed itself towards the task at hand.

Catching the thief.

It appeared to be a simple responsibility to the unsuspecting man, but this particular criminal was hardly ever seen. Many only realized they were visited by The Ghost when their valuables went missing. The Kingdom itself didn't have much criminal activity so the presence of such a person was surprising.

He could only hope that someone here could offer reliable information that set a distinguishing characteristic about the thief. He wanted to narrow down from the general population as much as possible, before he started suspecting individual people.

The loud clamoring of the village signified that Aleksander had reached his destination. Thankfully, Jon Jon, his trusty companion, was sweating as profusely as his rider was.

Maybe people would believe the smell came from his horse, rather than his own person.

As if sensing his thoughts, Jon Jon has snorted and flipped his mane, almost in a sassy manner.

"Sorry, buddy. They'll love you, smelly or not" Aleksander cood, patting his mane.

Climbing down from the saddle, Aleksander allowed Jon Jon to roam free, not finding it necessary to tie him to a nearby tree. His horse was loyal to him, as he was to Jon Jon.

Abruptly, Aleksander froze where he stood. There it was again. That sensation he felt when he was at the club, only magnified. His skin tingled, body thrummed. He could still hear the sweet laughter in his ear and feel something brush his hand. His eyes swept his immediate surrounding, but other than meeting the gaze of a few concerned bystanders, there was nothing. Again.

He roughly shook his head. Not this again. He was so involved in the thief's case, it was muddling his thoughts. Yes, he believed. Just an overactive imagination.

He frowned, now feeling like a child.

Better a child than a psycho, which seemed to be what the villagers thought of him. He hasn't moved from his spot in minutes, and their concerned gazes turned alarmed.

Not knowing where to begin, Aleksander approached the first house he saw. It was simple, small and comfortable looking with a brown exterior and small green garden.

He knocked once, then twice.

No response.

Frowning, he turned to leave when the door flew open.

"I am so sorry, your highness." A young mother scurried out, and quickly bowed. Her light blue dress was covered in flour, as was her hair. From his peripheral, Aleksander could see three equally messy children in the background.

"Not a problem at all. Baking troubles?" He gestured towards her.

She blushed, "No, just children troubles."

Shuffling on his feet, Aleksander struggled with bringing up the burglar cases. It wasn't often he came to the village, much less to badger civilians about a loose criminal. Thankfully the woman prompted him.

"What brings you here?"

He smiled, grateful for the opening.

"I'm here to investigate recent burglary cases. I was wondering if you've had any information, anything at all."

While the woman was never fully relaxed during any part of their short conversation, he recognized that she tensed up when he asked this.

"B-burglar cases? Ummm, yes I've heard of them. Yep, lots of burglary. Who knows who it could be. Might be me, might be that fellow over there, might be you. I guess we'll never know". She blabbered.

Suddenly, her eyes grew wide.

"Not that I'd ever accuse you of being a thief, your highness!"

The young son behind her recognized his mother's fear and stepped protectively in front of her. The kid barely reached Aleksander's waist but didn't show a hint of fear. He gave the prince a dark look.

The prince felt suspicious of her response, but laughed it off regardless. It was obvious he wasn't wanted here. He'd also noticed that their eyes had drifted away from him and focused on something behind him.

Inconspicuously turning, he saw nothing but a small shop, an average village scene.

Strange.

Aleksander found it rather difficult to refocus on the questions at hand. He was more concerned about the sensations in his body, particularly his hand.

What was this?

He quickly ended the conversation, and with a tight smile, he headed off.

This time not towards his horse. Not towards the next house. Not even towards anything at all.

Following his instincts, Aleksander went in the direction of the young mother's gaze. Where his own instincts were pulling him.

Slowly, but completely alert, he continued into the small alleyway, and eventually behind the store. It was dark,filthy and narrow, but he didn't see anything. He couldn't even truly explain why he ventured there in the first place. His instincts weren't known for being sharp, something his brother reminded him of often.

Nothing.

Again.

That was until he felt something poking his back. Something very sharp, and very dangerous.

Turning slowly, he finally met the eyes of his thief.