The Knight's Eyes

16: GREEN

KIT POV

He lifted the wrapped muffin the size of his hands to his nose and deeply inhaled. That long whiff isolated the sweetest ingredients so he could easily picture the crushed nuts, and the loads of sugar, and cinnamon Chef Hamn had mixed. Water gathered in his mouth.

"Mm this smells so good."

Chef Hamn chuckled placing a hand against his flat stomach, "Thank you, Kit. I want you to enjoy it okay?"

Kit raised an eyebrow and grinned, "I sure will."

"Good. Now tag along and don't get into any mischief."

"Never," he said in the deepest voice he could muster at his age of eleven.

He clasped the muffin tight and dashed from the palace's mass kitchen, presently less busy than usual due to summer coming in two days.

As he walked down multiple halls, passing servants, office workers, guards, and others privileged enough to freely roam the palace, Kit recalled the last two days. Visiting Walta had ended as he hoped with warnings to stay clear of the royal family. Then there were her encouragements to go and see the soon-to-be queen Hansel. What would he gain from doing so? He had refrained from asking any more questions in case Walta suddenly changed her mind. The thought of being a palace spy made his heart feel bubbly.

Yesterday, he had planned to sneak into the palace dungeons to see Hansel only his master needed his help. Organizing and recalculating budget slips from those wealthy souls who were too lazy to do it themselves, took most of the day. Then of course, when he had relayed Walta's response to his promising letter of protection, Master Citrus rushed him out the door to help her board up her windows. The entire day, Kit never thought to tell him about the princess and her anger shriek. Actually, the old coinsman never noticed his bandaged hand to ask what had happened.

The scratch had healed, however, into a rough red line across the back of his hand. Every time he'd touch the flesh around it, it was like poking himself with a needle. During the last two nights, his hand ached and throbbed, turning his skin a soft pink. Just looking at the scratch now free of its bandages made him scold and curse the princess under his breath. Whenever it'd break into an explosion of itches, he'd nibble on his bottom lip and gently rub the sensitive skin.

For the past few hours since breakfast, the hideous scratch continued to throb. How could something so small possess so much pain? It reminded him of those times when he'd tear off a nail into the sensitive skin and it'd bleed and sting for a while. Except, there was no sting when the princess scratched him. It was more like the blade of a knife scraping across the thin outer layer of skin. The results only called for a constant, aggravating throb.

He raised the muffin to his nose again and sucked in its delicious smell to calm his rattled nerves aching for revenge.

Stay away from them, Walta said with such strictness that reminded him of his mother.

He had nodded and declared to be watchful and very careful while acting as Walta's inside man in the palace.

She would enjoy this. He smiled smelling the muffin again, wrapped professionally in a light gold and ivory blue paper.

He quickened his pace as he crossed into the western section of the palace towards his destination. Less people roamed this section mainly because it was where the royal family dwelled. If summer wasn't coming, there'd be a guard at each hallway. Now, Kit walked freely with determination screaming from his feet at every step.

The aroma of the muffin in his hand swiftly was conquered by the smell of wild daisies. He slowed his pace and scanned the area for any signs of presence before turning down a narrow hall with green walls. Sitting along the floor were big pots of daisies of all sorts of colors. Nothing hung on the walls except one painting of someone once important at the very end.