The Prince’s Boy: 56

[ceciliatan]

(Continuing the weekly serial by Cecilia Tan! Need to start at the beginning? Click here.)

56: Jorin

Sergetten spoke to the royal messenger alone and returned to me in a foul temper.

“Eyes down. No, close them. Don’t you dare look at me. Peek and I shall know, and your punishment shall be severe. On the floor. Hands and knees. Do not move. Don’t even tremble.”

I did as he asked, but I could not stop the sudden hammering of my heart. I tried to draw deep breaths, reassuring myself I had done nothing to draw this ire. I was burning with curiosity over what the messenger must have said, but either he would tell me when he wanted to, or he would not. This was certainly not the time to ask.

I heard him moving back and forth at the work table, opening and closing things, and ruffling the pages of a book. A sulfrous, burnt scent came to me as he set to doing something. Burning the message? Brewing something?

Don’t look, I told myself, though my head had cocked a little at the smell. Don’t look, don’t look.

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