Wicked Games Academy

CHAPTER 28

We left for town the next day, and Jonathan gave us more requests, such as what color the curtains should be, what types of tablecloth to match. Jonathan said he would come for us because we were going to need him to pay up, and he didn't trust me with banknotes.

Now that I think of it, if only he had given it to me—maybe I would decide to run away with Clive, to a new land. We could live off the money and rent an attic or stay in an inn and then find jobs. I could work in a coffee shop or restaurant. Clive was good at talking but somehow I couldn't imagine him working. He was smart, though.

When we got out of the carriage I asked Jonathan if we could go look around town. He grimaced and handed me a small leather wallet with some money in it. He had another wallet, which father only ever entrusted to Jonathan. It had our proud family crest on it, stitched one by one and so carefully, with bright blues and browns.

"Vagrant—you could buy something for yourself, too," Jonathan called out after we turned.

"Don't worry," Clive turned to him. "I've been making money in the academy. Thank you for the thought, sir."

We walked and I had forgotten about the money the Headmaster sent us in envelopes. We had a good amount but coppers weren't actually of much used compared to the banknotes Goldenvale now used.

Our kingdom held great pride in the past kings and their regal faces were inked on printed paper along beautiful script in such a way the banknote read as a prayer.

...thou shall not harm your fellow man, as the Goldenvale rulers never have, and through this graciousness we shall love them. Cheers to the Kingdom of Gold, and all fellow countries that subside to Goldenvale's King..."

I had grew up reciting similar passages and realized Clive might've never saw our banknotes. Would he wish to, or feel humiliated for asking for coppers?

Maybe his coppers could buy an expensive book or decent wallet, we had a lot of coppers, but it would be strange for him to pay with coppers one by ones. We wandered around and Clive elbowed me in his coat, pointing at a certain shop.

We went in and he looked in awe at the rolls of fabric they had. It was a dressmaker's, but before I could explain he was walking around, feeling the fabric.

"These are for clothing," I whispered.

"If only I saw such beautiful things before. These vibrant colors, changing under the light, and these soft designs like embroidery. Look at that, such thing and sheer fabric." Clive's face looked more sad than what he was saying.

"Why do you look so sad? It's only fabric," I plainly stated.

"Do you not think of your mother, Nathan? I barely remember my mother, but I know I used to drink a lot of water once, because she was always making sure I had water and where the puddles formed."

I couldn't speak. I looked down in shame and touched a blue roll of fabric. I missed mother, too. I missed her so much I had forced myself to forget her, forced my life to be about knighthood.

If mother were alive, would she be distant like father, or would she be happy I fell in love, and tell me to cherish him?

"Let's move on," Clive said abruptly.

"You're right, is there anything you want in particular?"

"No, I was thinking maybe candy for my friends."

"Candy?" I was stunned.

Clive was still a child at heart, like a child getting pocket money for the first time and using it for something small but sweet.