“An intact virtue?”he provided.
“Yes,” I nodded. “Thank you, sir. Not… Not a union, as that would legally be consummated by…” I stopped. “I’m sorry, could you say virtue again?”
He didn’t.
“It’s just that… Fine, I’ll confess. I’m having trouble locating your region, sir. Where did you say your seat was?”
“I didn’t,” he replied.
I frowned. “Are you going to?” I asked.
His brows danced. “No.”
“And why not?” I asked.
“The apples are near the gate,” he said. “You’re in the back of the plaza. Go that way.”
“May I ask your name?” I asked. He spun me toward the front. “I’m sure I know your family,” I said, turning back.
He sunk his head.
“Is there a reason you’re so insolent?” I replied.
“Yes. Now leave me alone, Your Highness,” he said.
“In a moment. Surely your father is somebody I’ve met?”
“Yes,” he said.
“Then I must apologize; I meet so many aristocrats in the year. I-”
His attention went over my shoulder, undoubtedly to the armor I heard approach us.
“Oh! Finally!” I cheered. “I told you he was in there. How happy. We’ve been found!”
“I’m–”He cleared his throat and offered me the laziest of bows. “I’m afraid I must go,” he said quickly.
“What?” I laughed. “Why? Are you in a hurry?”
“Dreadful,”he said, shuffling a few steps.
“Wait. Your name, sir?” I asked. “To thank your father?”
He shook his head. “My father’s dead.”
“Oh.”
“Good day, Your Highness.”
“Wait!”
He loosed a breath.
“If you’re here for long, I would love to see you again– I mean, we could discuss Orerian things? Or Chalke things that I should be aware of? Like my braid? Yes?”
“Your braid?” he asked.
His shirt’s pattern flexed with his impending exit. My cheeks warmed as it reappointed my attention to his chest.
