The Princess's Servant

21. The Heist

Long ago, Holden had once tried to steal his brother's tart at a banquet. The evening before, the young heir had snatched the prince's apple bread straight from his fingers, and eaten it in front of him. Holden needed revenge.

The plan had been simple: plant a dead frog where Sebastian — his brother's servant — would find it, and wait for Sebastian to call his brother over to look at it. Then, when the two were distracted, Holden would take the tart off his plate and scarf it down before his brother could notice.

As a six year old, Holden had not considered questions such as: what if Sebastian found the frog before the dessert course? Or what if someone else had found the frog? Or what if Sebs didn't call over his brother? Holden never got to consider these questions because his plan had worked. The servant took sight of the bloated corpse right as their tarts were being served, and he ran over to his prince in a flurry. The heir stood with startled interest, and tried to cover his excitement as he went. The tart was wide open. Holden took fork and finger and lifted it off his plate.

"Holden!" His mother had cried. For an incredibly fleeting moment, the adult's attentions left their conversations and had centered on the prince. His brother's attention had been snagged too, and certainly more securely than that of his father.

"Hey, hands off!" His brother had replied, marching straight back to his seat. He smacked the treat out of Holden's hands and he munched down on it.

"We don't steal," his mother had said. "We ask for what we want."

Holden felt tears well in his eyes. "But... But Thomas didn't ask me when he took my apple bread." He lowered his chin and felt wet tears fall on folded hands.

His mother sighed like petals in the breeze. "Darling, just because he did something wrong, doesn't mean you can do something wrong too," she had said. "Offer your brother an apology please."

Holden sniffled, his shoulders tense. He felt only sorry for himself, but he knew this issue would not go away until he had done what he was told. "I'm sorry," he said to his brother, looking up at him through tear stained eyes.

"Psh," his brother replied. He snatched Holden's tart off his plate and gobbled down the both of them. His mother lowered her gaze and looked to the emperor, who remained silent. She followed suit.

Before attempting his theft, Holden had felt a nervous feeling in the pit of his stomach. It was a feeling like all the people around him could sense his intentions. Like they'd figure him out before he could pull off his scheme. A feeling like he'd be caught. And as he crossed that ocean of grain to reach the forest, Holden felt that feeling again— though this time he felt it times a thousand. If he were caught trying to escape, he could die. And Holden figured that was best case scenario, considering the princess's temperament.

The princess and prince reached the edge of the wood, where the loamy grassy soil shifted into dense shrubbery and forest. This was his first chance, he thought. He could sprint ahead now before the princess could blink and perhaps he'd outrun her arrows. Holden's blood felt like it was coming to a boil. His feet twitched to move.

"Are you ready?" The princess asked, looking to the prince.

Holden flinched again. Had his moment passed? "Yes," he said. I've never been more ready, Holden had wanted to say.

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