Alistair cleared his throat, as the next part was not a character but the story’s exposition.“The prince knew that he must choose his next words carefully. Where he could not be certain, he had heard tales of old crones similar to the hideous beast who stood before him. With her leathery skin. Her beady eyes. Her nose that stuck out like a bent finger from her face. And that wasn’t to mention the scent of her! She could only be the famed Baba Yaga, famous for killing princes much like he was…”
Alistair had not meant to spend the morning reading stories with Hugh. In fact, all he had expected this morning was to check on the young boy and ensure that his recovery was going well. It had been three days now since the fever took him, and while he was coming along in leaps and bounds, he was still frail and confined to bed.
He had come upon Miss Norleigh reading the young boy a story. She was sitting by the head of his bed, and as she read, Hugh read along with his own book; even as sick as he was, he was still dedicated to his lessons.
Alistair’s arrival had Miss Norleigh suggesting that he join them. Next, she suggested that they read the parts as if they were a play. Next, Hugh agreed to this request with the mostenthusiasm he’d shown in three days. And next…well, I couldn’t very well say no, now, could I?
It was more fun than Alistair had expected.
Miss Norleigh took to her role as Baba Yaga with gusto and enthusiasm, even standing and moving around the room as she acted the part out. Alistair did his best, not wishing to let down her performance with his own shoddy one. And Hugh watched and listened and laughed along as if it was the most fun that he’d had in his entire life.
It warmed Alistair’s heart to be involved. He loved that Hugh was enjoying himself so much. He loved that the two of them were growing closer each day, with each conversation, and that the initial awkwardness of their relationship was quickly fading. And he especially loved that Miss Norleigh was a part of it all.
“Well?Miss Norleigh asked in her cruel voice. “I am waiting to hear your excuse. Personally, I rather like the idea of hearing you beg.”
“I have no intention of begging,”Alistair responded as the lost prince.
“Ah, so you choose death. How very original.”
“I thought perhaps we could strike a bargain? My life for… whatever it is that beautiful women like yourself might want?”
Miss Norleigh pretended to look away as if shy. “Did you just say… You lie to me, prince. You are trying to fool me with your devil’s tongue.”
“I do no such thing. I have travelled this world, I have seen beauty far and wide, and nothing comes close to the majesty that stands before me. When I leave here, I might have to rip out my own eyes, knowing that I would never see such beauty again.”
She was only playing a role, but the way that Miss Norleigh looked at Alistair as she read her lines, the flirtatious glimmer in her eyes, made his stomach flutter. He tried not to let it show, wishing to keep the confident façade of the prince, but he squirmed in his chair, nonetheless.
“That is too kind,” she said.
“It is truth,”he responded.
“I was going to kill you, only now, well, I am not in such a mood as that. Maybe later, if I feel like it, but your kind words have bought you a day, oh charming prince.”
“It is a day I will cherish.”
“You might not…” Miss Norleigh flashed her eyes at him and grinned.“Not when you learn what you must do for your supper. You are a prince, and that sword by your side looks mighty sharp. Perfect for killing –"
A knock at the door interrupted their storytelling.
Alistair started at the noise, and he almost forgot where he was and what he was doing. He had been reading from the book, but at every available instance he looked up to find Miss Norleigh’s eyes…
“Your Grace.” Mrs. Fletcher stood in the doorway. “I am sorry to interrupt… whatever this is.”
“Not at all.” Alistair cleared his throat, closed the book, and turned a little too quickly. “Is something the matter, Mrs. Fletcher?”
“No, Your Grace,” the elderly maid assured him. “But you have guests. Two of them, in fact.”
He blinked. “Two? I don’t remember anyone sending word that they were visiting.”
“Unannounced arrivals, Your Grace,” Mrs. Fletcher said. Then, she smirked coyly as if at a joke. “They arrived separately, and their timing is merely a coincidence. Much to their chagrin.”
“What does that mean?”
Her coy smile grew. “You shall see, Your Grace. I left them in your office.”
Alistair sighed and then groaned as he stood. He held the book out for Hugh to take, noticing immediately how disappointed the boy was that he was going. “Mark the spot,” he told Hugh. “And we will finish it later.”
“We will?” Hugh asked hopefully.
