Something With a Prince

Chapter Six: She's Been Listening

Tallethea

"You've got a bug in your hair."

"No. I don't."

"How would you know? Do you have eyes placed in the back of your head?"

I can think of a place to put your head.

The sun had finally abandoned us and after riding a ways in the twilight, Monson and I concluded it would be best to find a place to camp. Part of me wanted to keep riding and make it as far as we could before the dark truly set in, but that would be reckless. Still, the faster we got to the Summer palace the better. The Queen must have had a reason to send us out so late, but it was a hindrance on our timing. Had we taken the kings road the route would have been more direct and only two or three days with proper rest and a steady pace. Though, I dare say it could be done in a day and most of the next morning if you were racing. However, it would take nearly seven days to arrive at the Summer palace by Arlyn's trail due to the backwoods terrain, and that was if everything went smoothly, and we didn't face too much weather. The chances of either of those things happening were slimmer than my chances of getting some peace and quiet.

Monson cleared his throat, bringing his horse closer to mine so we were riding side by side. I found him fidgeting from the side of my eye and took to staring at him curiously. Lansing began to whistle behind us. A portion of Monson's presence brought me a feeling of reassurance, and I hoped there would be a way I could convince him to travel with us the entire way. The other portion I haven't quite figured out yet. Considering he had been talking to Lansing this whole time, indulging his stories and jokes, I felt that was probably the missing piece. Anyone who liked Lansing, was instantly suspicious. But the Scout had a nice way about him, a stoic kind of soul that I appreciated, so I let it go.

Monson leaned in toward me, "Indeed, there is a bug in your hair."

My spine went rigid, eyes slowly widening, "Where?'

His eyes drew a line from my face to an area somewhere near my temple.

My hand flew up to my hair, brushing quickly away at whatever creature was crawling around up there. A shiver raced down my spine as my finger made contact. I yelped and hit my palm across my head, watching as a pale looking beetle dropped off into the dirt. I made sure my horse's hoof was the last thing it saw.

Lansing chuckled from behind me. A low sort of throaty laugh that pricked at the back of my neck. He pushed his horse between Monson's and mine, riding alongside us. After examining my dark braid his eyes gleamed. Lansing tilted his head slightly, " I told you so."

I yanked at the reins, creating space between us as the feeling of his leg passing against mine was unacceptable. Monson remained impartial, though I could detect a little smirk underneath the brush of his bushy beard. His hands rested easy, but his attention belonged to the forest. Every tree, shrub, rabbit, and gap were meticulously attended to and my brain suggested I start taking notes. I could learn a great deal from him by observation, and with a natural propensity to focus on anything other than Lansing Rikkar, I imagine my skills will be more refined than ever by the time we hit the Summer Palace.

"Monson, do you sing?" Lansing asked after a few moments.

He gruffly responded, "No, your highness, I lack the talent."

Lansing hummed in response, "Shame, I was hoping there would be some chance at entertainment as we rode." I didn't need to look to know he was watching me, trying to egg me on. "Thea can sing, but it would take an army of hell's finest demons to make her."

"Perhaps you could observe the forest--" Monson started, but then turned to the two of us, "I thought your name was Tallethea?"

"Oh, it is, but you see I grew up with her being called Thea." Lansing responded in my place, " We were raised together so I know her well enough to be informal."

Don't glare at him. Watch the trees. Be alert. Do your job.

"That expression on her face is also one I know well," He continued his monologue, tone dancing with the hopes of raising me into vexation. If anyone can do it so easily it is him, and him alone. "See how her eyebrows tense but they don't draw, and the left one, it is slightly raised higher than the other?"

"Aye?" Monson replied.

Focus on the smell, are there animals nearby? Where is there an opening, can we make camp without being too exposed? Do you hear water? I insisted my mind stay occupied.

"See how her eyes don't really move, but you know they're watching?" His voice only seemed to grow closer. "And the color, at first you think they're just typical blue, but don't be deceived, friend, the longer she ignores you the darker they get. Do you see that?"

"Aye, Your Highness..."

I could now feel Monson's gaze upon me, and my neck began to creep with heat. So, I took a deep, patient breath. My ears were picking up on every single noise available to me. The way the soil crunches beneath my horse's hooves, the wind rustling the trees, and an early cricket practicing his song. My eyes snagged upon a small clearing a few yards away, surrounded by a thicket. My spirit lifted inside of me. Perfect campground.

"Now this is where observation is tricked, my friend, and trust me, it's not the lack of light. She has been listening to us the whole time and yet, the set of her mouth gives away no clues. No flush reddens her cheeks and believe me, it never will. I've tried. Not even her shoulders, despite their constant tension, will bunch a centimeter more." He paused, "Would you like to know the giveaway? How I know she has been listening, despite her excellent skills of deception?"

"I suppose so." Monson cleared his throat, "Though, with all due respect, Your Highness, I do not believe she has listened in for a single moment. I've seen that look on many soldiers and it's usually a product of focus. I get it myself."

"Ahh, then you've fallen for it." Lansing clicked his tongue and as he pulled his horse nearer to mine so our legs would brush again.

Damn him. I refused to swallow, to even breathe the slightest atom of air. He would get no clues from me. In fact, I believed his entire performance this far to be a steaming pile of horse shit. He was just bored and trying to make some shoddy attempt at entertainment for himself.

"Here it is, look closely now or you might miss it," He lowered his voice to a whisper, and despite our legs passing against each other repeatedly, I could tell he was leaning away from me and closer to Monson. The two of them were staring at me like I was a specimen in a cage. Though part of me was impressed slightly at Lansing's observational skills, the other part of me hated how well he could read my body language, even if it was a joke.

"Behind her ear, tucked closely against the start of her jaw, a splotch of red the size of my thumb. See? She's been listening."

As if on cue, I could feel that exact spot heat up at its exposure. My head pitched in his direction causing the two of them to audibly startle. Monson looked as if he had been caught by a superior and Lansing...he crowned himself victorious with a smile.

I snarled, mostly at the Prince, "If you two are quite done, I have found camp for the night."

With that I pulled off into the brush, stopping only when I had broken into the clearing. I did not wait for them to arrive before dismounting my horse. Night air flooded into my lungs, as if pure distance between the two of us were the only way for oxygen to effectively reach me. By that logic I'd be asphyxiated by morning.