Chapter One
The house smelled of tender meat and cigar smoke, with rich maroon carpet and drapes dripping from every large window. Each table and chair was made of deep mahogany wood, and chandeliers hung from the low ceiling, letting off a dull honey light.
My shadow rippled as I walked past a lumpy, overstuffed sofa, and my bare feet padded silently on the thick carpeting. Boisterous voices laughed and boomed in the room to my left, where bright light spilled out from behind the slightly open door. I strode past it to the farthest door, sitting silently at the end of the end of the room. I carefully turned the knob and slid the door open, moving so slowly that it couldn't creak.
I slipped inside without turning on the light and felt my way over to the far wall. My sensitive fingers brushed over a set of shelves, flitting over each object in turn. My hand closed on a goblet and I lifted it. It was heavy, as it should be if it were solid gold. I slid the cup into my bag, which was already filled with scrap cloth to muffle the sound of the goblet if I needed to set it down or I dropped it. My hands found the empty spot on the shelf where the cup had sat, and I shook a card out of my sleeve to sit in its place.
I followed my hands out the door into the sitting room. I didn't bother to close the door behind me. I walked confidently through the room, into the entrance hall, and outside, without once making a noise. I hitched my bag over my shoulder and strode calmly down the dirt street away from Lord Ross's home.
I followed the familiar network of streets to the old storage hut in the back of the city. I stepped inside, habitually opening the door so that it wouldn't squeak or scrape against the floor.
“Cal!” Fuschia squealed, barreling over to me.
“What!?” I cried, my fingers springing to the knife in my belt.
“Is it true? Is he telling the truth?”
“What?” I repeated, relaxing. “Is what true?”
She stared up at me with wide, gray eyes, her long, white-blond pigtails swinging, her neck length bangs stuck hanging across her forehead. “Tater and Blade told me that rich people eat slugs as delicacies. They said that they were going to catch me one tonight so I could eat like a princess. I didn't believe them, but then Tate came back holding one and--” she stopped to suck in a breath.
“Whoa, slow down there, hon,” I smiled, giving her a one armed hug and fixing her bangs. “Tater tried to make you eat a slug?”
She nodded, pressing a hand to her mouth as her eyes flicked to the boys, cracking up in the corner.
“And Blade didn't do anything to help you?” I asked.
“No, he went along with it!” she said, sounding indignant.
I released Fuschia, handed her my bag, and walked over to the boys, trying to calm their hysterics. “Sebastian. Nick. You know that wasn't funny,” I said seriously, gazing at them.
Tater made a face at the sound of his real name, but it only lasted a second, he was still cackling too much to care. He grinned up at me, his thirteen-year-old face red with laughter under his mess of light brown hair.
“Where is it?” I sighed, holding out my hand.
Tater put his fist over my palm and something slimy dropped into it. I didn't flinch.
“Blade. You should have known better than to let him try to force Fuschia to eat a slug. She'll probably pick her meals apart for weeks, looking for slugs!” I glared at him.
He smiled and shrugged, unsuccessfully trying to shake his blond hair out of his bright blue eyes, still shining with laughter. “You know as well as I do that Tate wouldn't actually make her eat one,” he said.
“That doesn't mean Fuschia knows that,” I snapped.
“It was just a joke Cal,” Tater said, the hilarity of it all seeming to finally wear off. “I didn't mean to make her scared.” He dropped his gaze guiltily.
I chewed on the corner of my lip. “Come here, hon.” I held the slug-occupied hand away from me, and offered my other arm out to Tater. He leaned into my side and I squeezed his shoulders before steering him firmly over to Fuschia.
“Apologize,” I commanded.
“I'm sorry. I shouldn't have done that,” he mumbled, the picture of sincerity.
“It's okay, Tate. As long as you swear--” she broke off her words with a scream and she leapt away from me as if I were on fire.
“What? What is it!?” I cried urgently, swinging around wildly, knife in hand.
“SLUG!” she screeched, pointing in horror at the ground below the hand I held the slug in.
I sighed and put my knife away. “Shhh, I'll get rid of it. In fact why don't we cook it up for Tate's dinner, huh?” I grinned at her as I scooped it up into my hands again. I opened the back door, then threw the slug as far as I could. I showed her my slimy, but empty hands and she smiled faintly.
I heard Tater spluttering with laughter again and I shot him a severe look, but he didn't notice.
* * *
After Tater and Fuschia had gone to sleep in their makeshift beds, constructed of wooden boxes pushed together and piled high with blankets, I had time to get mad at Blade.
“We've been through this before, Blade. You can't gang up on her like that,” I drilled into him. He was walking around, tidying up his own box bed and acting as though he wasn't listening. I was persistent though. I wouldn't stop lecturing him until he at least acknowledged what I was saying.
“You would've thought it was funny, Cal,” he said, turning to face me finally. I noticed that he was still a good foot taller than me.
“I would not-- okay, yes I would have. But Fuschia's a girl.”
“Oh, and what are you then?” he said sarcastically.
I narrowed my eyes. “You know what I mean.”
We stared each other down for a moment, Blade looking like he was about to start throwing punches.
“Why are you so mad?” I asked finally. “Is it that you don't like being scolded by someone younger than you?”
Blade is seventeen, and a year older than me. He never seemed to care about that since I had been the one to pick him up off the streets, but it just occurred to me that he might be suddenly realizing the oddity of it.
He glared at me for a moment, then his face softened and his body released its tension. “No. No, you're a way better leader than I would ever be. And you're a much better thief.” He grinned and punched my shoulder lightly.
I rolled my eyes, but I was smiling.
“Oh! I almost forgot to tell you,” I started, remembering my trip to Lord Ross's house.
“You got the goblet without being seen or heard, and you want me to go give it to Lord Kent?” Blade guessed.
I laughed. “You got it, hon.”
“I'll do it tomorrow morning.” He grinned again and gave me a quick hug before firmly pushing me out of the ring of tall boxes surrounding his bed, that he had dubbed his “bedroom”.
I went to the other side of the store hut behind my own wall of crates, and crawled into bed. I wasn't tired, but I knew I had to sleep. Hopefully I would be getting several new clients tomorrow, a few people have been asking about me these last few days.
I reached down to the floor and took a card off the top of the pile beside my bed, fingering it in the growing dark. I put it close to my face to read the familiar gold words, handwritten in fancy script. I had written these words over and over on hundreds of these little black cards. It was my name. Not Calandria, the name my father gave me, but my own name. It was more of a title really, but it was the first thing that was mine, and no one else's.
I slid my finger lovingly over the gold letters, reading: The Silent Queen.
Chapter Two
“Hey Cal?”
“Yeah?” I called back, pouring myself a cup of water from our pitcher.
“Do we have any breakfast?” Fuschia asked tiredly, wandering over to me with a bleary look in her eyes.
“I expect Blade will bring us back something. He went to collect the money from Lord Kent,” I said, wrapping my arm around her thin shoulders. Fuschia's almost as tall as me, since I'm short for my age. She's exceptionally tall though, even taller than Tater, who's three years older than her.
I handed her my untouched water and she drank it down.
“I'M READY!” Tater shouted, thundering over to us from his “room”. “I'M AWAKE!”
“Okay, okay! I see that!” I laughed, releasing Fuschia and taking the empty cup from her.
“Where's Blade? Don't tell me he left already? He promised I could come if I woke up early enough!” Tater asked, looking around for him.
“He left a little bit after I got up,” I told him.
“Aww, no! I wanted to come see Lord Kent's house! He's supposed to be training me so we can open up a second meeting spot that I would run and we could get double the clients!” he complained.
“Sorry hon. Just missed him. You'll have to stay up all night if you want to be up in time to go with him. He waits until you fall asleep, just so he can sneak out without you,” I grinned teasingly.
He took a swing at me and I dodged it, laughing evilly.
“Are you looking for beating, kid?” I asked playfully.
“You bet I am!” he replied. “You. Me. Wrestling. Right now,” he nodded his head to the door, grinning.
“Later, chump. I've got work to do.” I said, ruffling his hair in the way that I know he hates.
“What! You love wrestling! Pleeeeease?” he begged, sounding disappointed and fixing his hair.
“Not now. I need to go steal some stuff. And you need to do some cleaning that I assigned to you, what, four days ago?” I raised my eyebrows at him.
“Fine. G'luck Cal,” Tater said grudgingly.
“See you both later,” I said, smiling at my family as I grabbed my bag and walked out the door.
As soon as I stepped out of their sight it was like someone blew out a flame. I was no longer Cal. I was the Silent Queen, and I had a mission. I was to steal Princess Paris's cloak for a man to give as a gift to his lady. I wasn't going to do it at first since he can just buy himself a cloak, but he was willing to pay fifty gold pieces for me to get it so who was I to say no?
I pulled my hood up over my face and began running lightly through the familiar roads, my bare feet silent and quick over the dirt and pebbles.
I darted out from behind a building and into the street, registering at the last second that I was right in front of a horse. It reared and whinnied, throwing its rider from its back, and I wove nimbly around its hooves. I spun around and grabbed the horse's reins, swinging freely around its head. “Shhhhh, it's okay, calm down,” I murmured, pulling it down to four legs and stroking its face. “Poor baby, you're gonna be okay.” I patted its glossy chestnut coat and it nuzzled my arm.
“No, really, I'm fine. Thanks for your concern though,” a voice groaned from behind the horse.
I scowled and turned to see who had spoken. The rider was standing up, holding his back with a pained look on his face. He noticed me standing there with the reins and stared imperiously for a moment. I glowered back at him.
He was wearing a fur lined, dark blue cloak over a white silk shirt. His hair was blond and cut perfectly so it would just barely stay out of his eyes. He had the brightest emerald eyes I'd ever seen, and tan skin like me. He looked about my age, but almost as tall as Blade. He had a sort of prideful aura around him, like he was better than rabble like myself.
You're a reckless rider,” I said, immediately disliking him.
He grinned. “And you're a reckless walker.”
I scowled again. “Here,” I offered him the reins. “I hope you'll take better care of your horse now.”
He laughed as he took them from me and stroked his horse's velvet muzzle. “I hope you won't go getting yourself mauled by horses again.”
I was grinding my teeth now as I glared at him, standing there acting so superior to me. I turned to leave but he grabbed my arm.
“Wait,” he said, turning me around again.
“What?” I ground out, practically spitting flames. Who was he to give me orders? “I need to go. I have important things to do. Of course a noble like you wouldn't understand what that means,” I spat.
“Have I seen you before? You look familiar,” he asked.
I shrugged. “I get around,” I replied vaguely.
“Hm.” He didn't look convinced.
“Now can I go, oh great noble one?” I asked sarcastically, jerking my arm away from him.
“Here,” he put a hand into his cloak, then drew out a small bag and tossed it to me. I caught it and it jingled when it hit my hands.
“Buy yourself some new clothes,” he advised, grinning. “A pretty girl like you shouldn't be wearing those tatters.”
I scowled furiously, my face heating. Just because I was wearing a torn tunic, boy pants, and a bloodstained cloak, doesn't mean I don't like my clothes. “I don't need charity,” I snarled, tossing it back to him.
He tossed it to me. I threw it back. He tossed it to me. I chucked it back.
“Jeez, you have quite the arm!” he exclaimed, rubbing his hands. “What's your name?”
I tensed up, my fingers itching to grasp the handle of my knife. “Cal,” I said tersely.
“Cal? Hm. I'm Gabriel,” he held out his hand for me to shake. I didn't take it. He laughed again and I scowled harder. “Now take the money. You need it more than I do,” he tossed it to me.
I caught it and prepared to hit him over the head with it when I shivered. It wasn't a cold day, in fact it was the middle of summer. I shivered again and my spine tingled. My hand flew to my knife, and this time I drew it.
Gabriel's eyes widened in surprise and he stepped back. “I didn't mean-”
“Shh!” I hissed, spinning around and staring into the alley between two houses. The shadows were deep enough that I couldn't see anything, and I slowly started to creep forward.
“Cal?”
“SHHH!”
Gabriel fell silent and I continued to walk slowly toward the alley, every sense on high alert, my mind screaming with alarms.
I heard movement, and the next thing I knew a slim, black robed form scrambled clumsily up onto the roof and sprinted to the back of the building, where they slid off and disappeared from view.
Cursing, I slid my knife back into the sheath and turned my back on the alley.
“Who was that?” Gabriel asked, and I noticed that he had mounted his poor horse.
“No idea,” I replied.
“Ah.” He nodded calmly as if he and I were sharing a nice conversation about the king's remodeled courtyard.
We both started to walk away, then I realized that I was still holding his bag of money. I pivoted and threw it as hard as I could. It hit him squarely in the back of his retreating head.
I laughed mirthlessly, then started to sprint.
“We've found a fourth accomplice.”
“What?”
“She was talking to him on the street. They were arguing over money.”
“Who was he?”
“You'll never believe this-- it was Prince Gabriel.”
“WHAT! That's not possible! He's King Evan's son isn't he? Evan's kingdom isn't even near Spaerick. Frizz, if you're lying...”
“I saw them though! I couldn't see the Queen's face, I was behind her, but the prince was smiling the whole time.”
“You say they were arguing over money?”
“Yes, I think the prince must've stolen something on her orders. He was giving her money but she wouldn't take it.”
“How do you know she didn't steal something for him and he was just paying her back?”
“Because she only gives clients their item if they can pay her, and she didn't hand him anything.”
“Hm.”
“It's confusing for me, too.”
“That's not it, I was just wondering how he will fit into our plan.”
“Oh. Well. Yes, that might cause a problem.”
“We'll just have to make sure no one finds the prisoners once we have them.”
“Yes, I suppose so.”
“Errrr, this is going to complicate things. Everyone will look for him. He's not just a street rat like the other three.”
“We could just let him be.”
“No. No, we couldn't. He's a clever boy, just like king Evan. He'll find them and break them out while we're helping the Queen.”
“Oh. I suppose he would. You're so smart, I never think of--”
“Shut up.”
I walked swiftly through the castle hall, looking curiously at the carefully spaced paintings hung on the walls. Each one was of a different king that had lived in this castle, and they all looked a lot like King Bridge, the current king. At the very end of the hall was Bridge's picture, followed by a frame with the name Prince Starner carved into the bottom. Starner was his first born son, so if he lived longer than his father, he would become king. It made me feel kind of bad for Prince Miles, and even worse for Princess Paris. Women couldn't be the high ruler in Bridge's kingdom, Spaerick. I thought that Queen Eganna's queendom, Ephail, was much better off since it was in a woman's hands.
I grinned as I stalked the hall, searching for the stairs. Princess Paris's room was at the top of the highest tower, and she says it's to keep her safe in anyone attacks. I say that she's read too many fairytales.
At the very end of the hall was a spiral staircase and I followed it up, passing several floors at first, then after a while I realized I must be in the tower since there weren't any other rooms leading off the stairs. I finally reached a door at the very top of the stairs, with princess painted elegantly onto the wood. I put my ear against the door and listened for movement. I couldn't hear anything. I turned and blew out the torch closest to the door and the staircase darkened, making it easier to see if any light was coming from behind the closed door. A normal, gray sunlight was shining slightly between the cracks around the edges of the door, but no candles or chandeliers were flickering in the princess's room.
I very carefully turned the doorknob and pushed the door open just a crack, just enough for me to peek inside. Her room was empty.
I opened the door the rest of the way and walked inside, and over to her wardrobe. Inside I found an abundance of puffy dresses in a rainbow of color... but no cloak. I swore, realizing that the only place it could be was on the princess's shoulders.
Suddenly my ears picked up sound from the staircase. Light footsteps were hurrying up the steps, and by the sound of the them it was a young girl, probably the princess herself. I ran to the door, silently closed it, then raced to the bed and dove underneath it, glad that there were enough fluffy blankets hanging to the floor to hide me.
The door banged open and the bed sank down as she sat, sighing. I lifted the blankets ever so slightly and saw pink high heels stationed in front of me.
I heard a click of a clasp being loosened, then the lavender, rabbit fur cloak landed on the floor in front of the shoes. My fingers longed to reach out and grab it, but I knew I couldn't. Not yet.
I had to figure out how to get her to leave in a hurry, without pausing to grab her cloak. I thought for a moment, listening to the bed creak as Paris lay back into her mountain of pillows.
I absently brushed a spider off my arm, staring intently at the cloak, so close, but so, so far.
That's it! I squinted in the dark until I spotted the spider again, grumpily scuttling away from me. I put my fingers in front of it and allowed it to cautiously crawl up onto my hand.
I pushed the blankets out of my way, and reached my hand out to those pink clad feet. I dumped the spider right on her bare toes, then retreated back under the bed.
Five... Four... Three... Two...
“EEUUUGHHH!!” Paris screeched, springing to her feet, dancing around trying to shake the spider off. As soon as it leg go of her foot, she shot out the door, slamming it behind her as though the devil were after her.
I laughed and crawled out from under the bed, grabbing the cloak and folding it neatly into my bag. I slipped a small black card form my sleeve and dropped it where the cloak had been, the familiar golden letters shining up at me. I knew I had about three minutes to get out, before she brought someone up her to scour her room for spiders and found her cloak was missing.
I flew down the stairs as fast as my legs could carry me, and got out of the stairwell at the first door I found. I sprinted silently, on my still bare feet, down the next staircase I spotted, all the way to the first floor. At the bottom I walked casually past servants, guards, and visiting citizens to the courtyard. It was in the process of being redecorated, so workers were all over. I lost myself among the throng of busy people, just in case someone thought I was suspicious, and somehow found my way to the front gates. I pulled my hood low over my eyes, snatched a tool from a carpenter's wagon being hailed through by the guards, and walked purposefully through the gate, looking for all the world like a worker just finishing a hard days work. In a way, I actually was.
I smirked under my hood as I walked out past the bored soldiers and onto the street. I walked calmly around the first house, then broke into a flat out sprint all the way to the other side of the city.
I tucked the tool into my belt and prepared my third theft of the day. I stepped out from behind a house and went to the other side of the street, the newspaper shop. I went to the table of display papers and picked one up, pretending to be deciding whether I wanted to buy it. I wasn't actually reading it, I was watching the familiar window in front of me.
About thirty scribes were sitting silently in the shop, each sitting at their own desk. They all had newspapers in front of them, and were handwriting each article.
I glanced over at the vendor, a boy about Tater's age, and winced when his narrowed eyes met mine. I buried my face in the paper again.
Finally a few people came up beside me, picked up a paper and went over to pay the boy. I folded the paper in half and tucked it into the sleeve of my cloak. I walked casually down the street, all the way home.
Chapter Three
Blade, Tater, and Fuschia were all waiting for me when I got back. I smiled tiredly at them and tossed the paper onto the “table” (a box with four smaller boxes around it).
Blade wordlessly held out a chunk of bread and I took it gratefully, just realizing how hungry I was.
“Did everything go alright?” Fuschia asked.
“Yeah. I had a few complications, but it all worked out okay in the end,” I said, gnawing viciously at the bread.
“Cal, that's disgusting!” Blade laughed.
I slowed down and began taking small bites, glaring pointedly at him. He grinned and gave me a thumbs up.
“Can we wrestle now?” Tater asked suddenly.
I swallowed the last piece of bread. “Sure. Just as long as you don't get mad when I beat you,” I teased.
We both stood up and went out the back door to a small space of clear grass between the city and the forest rimming the southern half of the city.
“First one down loses,” I said.
“No way! It'll be over in two seconds!”
I grinned. “First one down three times loses,” I offered.
“Alright, alright.”
We both discarded our knives to the ground and got ready. Blade and Fuschia were both sitting by door to watch us and I waved at them to count.
“Three, two, one, go!” Fuschia shouted.
Tater flung himself on me, trying to muscle me to the ground. My hand found his arm and I ducked beneath it, twisting it up behind him as I came back up. I knocked his knees forward with my own knees and he buckled to the ground.
I let him up and he rubbed his shoulder, glaring at me.
I grinned. “You were the one who wanted to wrestle, let's not forget that,” I reminded him.
“Round two!” Fuschia announced.
I knocked him down just as easily the next two times, and even gave him three more tries after that, which I won.
“Alright, that's it. My turn. It's time to teach this girl a lesson, eh Tate?” Blade called, standing up and brushing himself down.
“Oh really? It's ON!” I replied, getting ready again.
He faced me, smirking slightly, and I smiled cockily.
“GO!” Fuschia yelled.
I moved first this time, since I knew that he knew that I knew better than to attack first. You might want to read that again, more slowly.
I dove down and barreled straight into his shins. He flipped over my back, yelling in surprise. I tried to stand up, but he had grabbed onto my arm, holding me down with his weight. We grappled like that for a moment, before he managed to roll himself to a crouch and stand up. Unfortunately for him, that also allowed me to stand up. I sprang away from him and we circled each other like cats.
“Go Blade!” Tater called.
Blade's eyes flashed over to Tate, for the barest moment, but the next thing he knew he was on the ground with me sitting triumphantly on his chest.
“Best two out of three?” he wheezed.
“Not a chance,” I laughed and rolled off him, laying tiredly in the grass. “Phew, beating you guys up is tiring!”
“I let you win,” Blade said, nudging me with his elbow.
“I let you last longer than Tate, so you wouldn't be embarrassed,” I countered.
We both laughed, still breathing hard.
Then a shiver went down my spine. I sprang to my feet, eyes flashing, not nearly as tired as I was only a moment ago. Blade stood up beside me and I could tell he had felt it to.
Someone was watching us.
I crept silently over to the side of the warehouse and peeked around it. No one was there. The feeling was already going away and I knew whoever had been had already left. I walked back over to my family, feeling the weariness returning.
“Nothing,” I said, shrugging. Blade frowned.
“Cal? What just happened?” Fuschia asked, huddling against me.
I hugged her. “I just felt weird, you know, that feeling that someone is staring at you?”
“Oh. Okay.”
Little kids are so easy to comfort.
“She's definitely the one we want.”
“And what makes you suddenly so sure? You sounded skeptical before now.”
“I saw her fight today. She wrestled the older one.”
“And?”
“She's a monster. She ate him alive, and they were just playing.”
“Good. Could she beat you?”
“I don't know. She could beat Frizz easily, but that's not too hard. I could tell she wasn't really trying very hard so I don't know what her best is. All I know is that as soon as the fight started, she completely changed. Her eyes... they looked like a killer's.”
“Very good. Perhaps she'll do better than I thought.”
“What do you mean? I thought you were the one with complete faith in her.”
“I knew she could steal far better than anyone. But I didn't know if she could hold her own against soldiers. In the occasion that she did actually get caught, she needs to be able to fight her way out.”
“We only get one shot at this, why would it matter if she made it out or not?”
“Because. They'll torture information out of her.”
“Not with her friends at stake.”
“If she's being tortured, she won't be in her right mind. She won't be able to think straight.”
“Mm.”
“You think she's strong enough to withstand torture?”
“We'll see.”
“I certainly hope not.”
I plopped down onto a crate tiredly, picking up the paper from off the table. I flipped it open and began to read, not really expecting to find anything worth reading.
Lady Fay's diamond earrings were stolen... thanks to me. a shop owner was convicted for vandalizing the baker's front door. A new library is opening in the east side of the city. The king's courtyard is almost finished. Prince Gabriel is visiting from Garill, King Evan's kingdom. An iron mine collected a record breaking amount yesterday.... Wait.
I flipped back a page and reread the other article. Prince Gabriel.
Oh, pigs.
I probably gave him a bruise the size of my hand on the back of his head, with his own bag of money.
Oh, pigs.
“Blade?”
“Yeah?”
“Um. Did you know that Prince Gabriel was visiting Spaerick?”
“No. Why?”
“Just wondering,” I said innocently, my mind beginning to go numb.
“What?” he came over and looked at the paper in my hands. He frowned. “Why are you so pale?”
“Oh, nothing, it's just that I... THREW A SACK OF GOLD AT HIS HEAD!” I shrieked.
“What?! Why in the world did you do that?”
“Because. He's a jerk,” I replied.
Blade gave me a flat look. “So you threw money at him?”
I scowled. “No! He tried to give me money, and I said I didn't want it and he refused to take it back so then I threw it at him,” I explained.
“Let me get this straight, he tried to give you a sack of money... so you chucked it at his head?”
I threw a punch at him but he ducked it, laughing.
“I told you, he was a jerk. He told me I needed the money to buy new clothes because....” I stopped, my cheeks heating again.
“Because... they were torn?” Blade prompted.
“Something like that,” I mumbled.
“Come on, tell me!”
I shot him a withering look. “He said... he said a girl like me shouldn't be wearing these clothes,” I relented, wincing as I said it.
Blade burst out laughing, doubling over to hold his gut.
“Stop it!” I protested, swatting his back.
“I'm- I'm sorry!” he choked out, practically falling out of his chair, he was laughing so hard.
“Let's see if I've got this. He gave you money, then he told you that you were pretty and should be wearing a dress, and then you hit him with his own money?” he cracked up all over again and I glowered at him.
“It sounds worse when you say it like that,” I grumbled.
He shook his head, trying to suck in air. “He complimented you so you attacked him!”
I stood, grabbed the newspaper, and stomped into my room.
“Oh, come on Cal!” Blade called after me, trying to master his voice. “Cal!”
I lay down grumpily on my bed, pulling my newspaper open and beginning to read.
Fuschia appeared at the entrance to my room, a tired look on her face. “What's going on?”
“Nothing, hon. Go back to bed. Blade and I were just arguing,” I told her quietly.
“Then why is Blade laughing his head off?”
I didn't answer. “Go back to bed. You need a good night's sleep.” I watched her leave and listened to her footsteps as she walked back to her bed. I dropped the newspaper off the side of my bed and pulled my blanket up, squeezing my eyes shut. My last thought before I fell asleep was that Blade and Prince Gabriel are both idiots.
