The Princess's Servant

83. The Stalker

Content warning. Exact themes listed in the comments.

Stalking is an ugly word. It's a terrible word that describes a terrible thing. Stalking is creepy and immoral and worst of all, gross. So it was a good thing that Sybil was not stalking Holden. She was merely... Following him. Quietly. Around town. While trying to avoid detection. Much like a stalker might, but again — not stalking. Because if she had been stalking him, then that'd mean she'd have to have some sort of obsession with him. And Sybil was definitely not obsessed with Holden.

The golden sunlight kissed the auburn strands of Holden's hair as they peaked out from under his hood. The morning breeze brushed the soft cotton of his shirt and caused it to cling to his thin, muscular frame. Holden reached out a gentle hand for a market-stall persimmon. He grasped it. Sybil's heart leapt and raced at the sight of him. He liked persimmons too? The princess caught herself taking an instinctive step forward. She stopped, let go of a breath, and returned her foot to the shadow of a general goods store. She wasn't obsessed, she told herself. She was just... excited. About persimmons. She liked persimmons. A lot, really. So much so that she wanted to hold persimmons. Wanted to touch persimmons. Wanted to taste them.

Holden twisted his head just a little to the side. When his eye caught sight of bright, blonde hair, he let his chin drop and an annoyed grunt rolled in his throat. "I can see you following me." He spoke the words out of the corner of his hood.

Sybil's already fluttering heart beat ten times faster. She'd tried her best to conceal herself; to keep her distance. She knew her light curls stuck out from the crowd like a white sheep among brown, but the cloak she wore should have been enough to cover it. Perhaps he'd seen her eyes?

"Was I that obvious?"

A sardonic tone. Movement from the edge of her vision. Sybil watched as Sebastian crossed the cobblestone in front of her and strode up to the young prince. She couldn't believe it. Luck hadn't been much on her side these last few days, so perhaps that tide was finally turning. Then again, just as there were blessing in disguise, Sybil knew there were also masked curses. And so she resolved to stay still and silent until she could see how this all played out. 

"Please." The word sounded exasperated. Holden dropped a coin in the shop keeper's hand. "You're the only blonde-haired blue-eyed creep I know."

That earned a chuckle from Sebastian. "'The only,' huh?"

The prince shot the servant a glare but had nothing more to say. He pocketed his fruit.

At the same time, Sebs pocketed his hands. "Say... speaking of creeps. What are you up to, anyways? You've got that stupid 'I'm not the prince hood' on that you always wear when you're trying to blend in with the poors."

He tried to ignore the servant's dissecting gaze as he browsed the small cakes. "I'm... I'm headed to the mountain," he said. "I have some things I need to process."

The blonde-haired servant leaned in closer and grinned. Holden leaned away. "Oh yeah?" He asked. "Like what?"

Holden scowled and placed another coin on the shopkeeper's table. "Goodbye, Sebastian." A punctuated remark. He turned from the servant and started towards a farther stall.

Sebastian cupped a hand by his mouth as the prince strode onward. "Like how you assaulted your wife on her wedding night?!" He yelled. "Is that what you need to process?!"

Holden (and Sybil) bristled at the accusation, but the prince knew it was far better to ignore the servant than to bite what he baited. Brushing off the blow of embarrassment, he pulled his hood a little further over his head and continued on his way.