Stolen Kingdom

II

It is as if time stands still when those bright eyes meet mine. Familiar forest green that strikes a cold fear down my spine when I picture his face on a "WANTED" poster. It is the face of the owner I hardly knew yet can recognize so easily. He is the man who broke so many rules, tarnished a completely well reputation, and cowered into hiding. The man who no one has seen for many years now stands before me with an actual smirk on his face.

"Princess," he says, almost mockingly.

Phillip, poor Phillip, staggers to his feet in attempts to attack the intruder. But the criminal is too fast for him. He whips around and grips Phillip's chin, angling his face upwards whilst pressing his thumb into the base of his neck, right where his shoulders meet. I watch in astonishment as Phillip's eyes flutter shut and he crumbles to the floor once more. I stare in horror at the man when he turns back to me.

"It is only a trick I learned. Do not fret, he is merely asleep," he tells me, his amusement never leaving his eyes.

I gather a bit of my wits and narrow my eyes. "What business do you want with me?"

His smirk widens to a grin, lopsided and goofy. "Oh, don't flatter yourself. I am not here for you, but for what you have." His eyes scan the gold scattered across the floor.

My eyes roll on their own. "Men," I grumble, pushing to my feet. He offers his hand but I ignore it. "Take all of it if you must. It means nothing to me."

He studies me a moment, something in his eyes I can't depict.

Oddly, my cheeks flush and I huff, averting my gaze. "Do hurry up. More guards will come for me soon. The buffoons--who I assume are yours--will only keep them busy for so long."

He's still smiling, but he finally tears his stare from me and gets on his hands and knees, shuffling the gold coins into a pile before scooping them into the box. He stands tall once more, the box resting in the crook of his elbow against his chest. He stares at me again.

"Well? Go on. Leave," I usher, immensely uncomfortable.

He tilts his head slightly to the side. "You know my identity," he remarks. Another strike of fear pierces through me. What if he decides I am untrustworthy of remaining silent? There are a few ways to insure my silence, and I want no part in any of them. I instinctively take a step back.

This, of course, makes him chuckle. So careless. Does he not know the incredible danger he's put himself in? I cannot imagine he has enough time for casual conversation.

"You won't tell," he says. Not a question, not a threat. Blatant truth. Or blind faith.

I raise my chin. "Won't I?"

He has the audacity to shrug. "You do not know me personally, but I remember enough about you to believe that you will keep quiet."

"And what makes you so convinced?"

But he is climbing out the window from where he flew in, and disappears.

***

The next couple days at the palace are horrendous. As if I didn't have any privacy before, now I can hardly go to sleep at night without hearing princes outside my door arguing over who I may pick. Since the outlaw group broke into the castle itself, it was said they are a high threat and might ambush any royalty that leaves. So, Father allowed each suitor to a room of his own in our grand home for safety measures. Needless to say, the amount of times a man has "conveniently" done an act of kindness in my presence is laughable. Whether it's merely thanking a servant or being polite to their guards, they always make sure they speak loudly enough for my ears to catch.