The man held up the glowing sphere, all smug superiority. “See? You are the missing princess. You must be returned to your family and position. You have no choice.”
May wanted to smack him with Mama’s frying pan. Instead, she crossed her arms and retorted. “I have plenty of choices. I can scream, and fight, and tell everyone you’re kidnapping me, and then if you get me to the palace, I can scream, or not talk, or never stop talking, or not eat, or eat like a pig, or dress only in whatever people think is vulgar, or run naked through the hallways, or lock myself in a room and never come out.”
She thickened her village-girl accent, enjoying his wince. Stupid nobleman, thinking he could swagger in here, claim she was royalty, when everyone knew she was Bran and Jane’s girl, even if some whispered about her first appearing around the village as a robust, well-developed bairn with no sign of Jane ever have been expecting.
She was May Orcharder, and even if some stupid sphere glowed, that was who she was, not some fancy, flouncy, useless-on-a-farm princess.
***
Lord Hesselbrough stared at the young woman glaring at him from across the cottage’s battered kitchen table. It was probably their dining table, and worktable too. What a place for the heir to the kingdom to grow up.
Looking at her though, looking properly, as clearly no one else had in the past twenty years, the stamps of her parents – the ones who birthed her – where everywhere. She had the queen’s cascade of golden hair, and her blue eyes, a disconcerting counterpoint to the king’s narrow slice of a nose and, most worryingly, that stubborn jaw, currently set into a perfect copy of His Majesty’s most obdurate expression.
There was only one person who was capable of overcoming that jut, in the king at least. His Lordship needed reinforcements.
He stood. “I see you’re a little emotional over this news, and no doubt frightened at the prospect of such a material change in your circumstances.”
Her glower deepened. “Listen to you, with your fancy words. Speak like a real person, would ya?”
Elocution lessons needed to be at, or at least near, the top of the list, the girl would doubtless be terrifyingly ignorant. He took a deep breath. “You may remain here, for now. But I council you to use this time to prepare for your new role in life, this is merely a short delay.”
The DNA of Stories 