The Queen And The Flower

Part 4

I didn’t stick around after the performance, instead taking to the street and running home as fast as my feet would take me. The building was abandoned, but I knew it wouldn’t stay that way. I moved quickly, tearing down the tarps I used for a roof and piling all my clothes back into my box. Soon I had everything packed away and was leaving the building.
I had no clue where I’d go, but I knew I’d find somewhere. Lots of buildings were abandoned around here.
I spent the next week setting up my new home (this one had a roof!) and waiting for news on the Princess’s engagement. But instead of joy, the kingdom was soon plunged into dismay and sorrow, and instead of marriage there came news of death. The king and queen’s death.
I felt my heart flutter when the news was announced in the town square, and I was glad I was sitting, for the world was spinning. I had never given the royal couple much thought, this was a fine kingdom in my eyes, but now I my thoughts went to the princess. The poor thing, alone, newly queen and unmarried. I wondered how she was handling it.
I didn’t have much time to think about it really, as the next day wanted posters with my face and mask went up around town. This, I was bitter about, as I had been looking forwards to doing some street performances. The most curious thing was the size of the reward, as it was far more than I knew I was worth, and the specifications that I was to be brought in alive.
The posters made my life hard. Everyone around here would give an arm for that amount of money, which made stealing my next meal very difficult. I fashioned my clothing to include hoods and stuffed the chest for a larger breast. I wished I could cut my hair, but there wasn’t much shorter I was willing to make it. Besides, my bangs hid my face nicely. I tore down any wanted posters I came by, but they always seemed to reappear the next day.
A week past. The marketplace stayed pleasantly busy, the bread stayed hard and the apples remained shiny. I was reaching for a loaf, certain the baker wasn't looking, when his husband grabbed my wrist.
“Ray! We have ourselves a little thief!” He exclaimed, sounding far too delighted by the situation.
“Pretty little thing,” Ray replied, eyeing the fake lumps on my chest. His husband threw the loaf I had been stealing at his head, making him laugh. “I’m only joking, Dein, relax.”
“You caught me, fair and square. I’ll leave you alone now,” I sighed, keeping my head bowed and trying to slip out of Dien’s grip. His stupid hand was too big and I couldn’t worm out of his grip. It was starting to hurt.
“Show me your face, twerp,” Ray said, reaching for my hood. I jerked away, as far as I could while held by Dien. A crowd was gathering.
“I wouldn’t do that, sir. You may find many more a loaf missing tomorrow, and it won’t just be these stale bricks you have the audacity to charge money for.”
“I oughta cut off yer tongue,” Dien snarled, pulling me forward over the counter. The impact left me winded. My hood was torn away.
I had never minded people staring at me, in fact I often enjoyed the attention of others, especially big crowds like this, with their gasps and murmurings. I never minded people watching and waiting for me to fall, probably because I was always sure I would never fall. However, this time, I wasn’t sure if I wasn’t going to fall. This was a thousand eyes watching my every move, waiting for their opportunity. Waiting for Dien’s grip to slip so one of them could grab me, hand me over to the castle and walk away rich.
I launched myself over the counter and kicked Dein in the face. He finally let go and staggered back. Ray pulled my hood back over my face and got behind me, suffocating me. I pushed him back into the counter, but it didn’t do anything. I was screaming, thrashing anything I could think of to get him off.
Then something smashed into the side of my head, and my body went limp.
When I came to I still couldn’t see, something rough was on my face and something was stuffed in my mouth. I tried to pull it away, but my wrists were tied tightly behind my back. Something patted my hip and Ray spoke.
“Hurry it up, Dien, they’re movin’ around again.”
“Hit ‘em again.”
“They’re wanted alive, you dingus.”
We were traveling down a bumpy road, on a wagon I assumed. I was bound at the ankles as well as the wrists. Didn’t stop me from kicking. The cry of pain it elicited settled the rage swelling in my chest. Ray’s mumbled threats meant nothing to me, but the tightening of my bindings frustrated me. At this rate I was bound to completely lose the circulation in my hands before we even reached the castle.