Total pages in book: 104
Estimated words: 96695 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 483(@200wpm)___ 387(@250wpm)___ 322(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 96695 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 483(@200wpm)___ 387(@250wpm)___ 322(@300wpm)
Or…would he simply crumble like the cookie in his hand?
Ten
After a couple of weeks, Hugo’s life settled into a normal routine of dinner parties, riding in the park, and trying to keep up with the random household repairs. Jessamine naturally had thrown a fit about Dorian working in a bookshop but seemed to quiet suddenly when he brought home his first bonus for selling books he’d repaired. Apparently, his magical skill had made his books quite collectable, and business was now booming at Mr. Cuthbert’s bookshop.
His younger brother’s success had made Hugo eager to try his hand at Mrs. Weatherly’s glassblowing emporium, but Jessamine remained adamant that he focus on finding a husband rather than employment.
Meanwhile, Augustine had also proved handy at bringing in money through odd jobs and selling fish or rabbits he’d hunted. For now, Hugo was content not to look too closely at Augustine’s money-making skills. It was the only way Hugo could sleep at night.
The one good thing about keeping busy was that he’d pushed Prince Everand and his handsome face from his mind.
Mostly.
Hugo tightened the grip on the rifle in his hands as he stepped over a fallen log. “Why the hell am I the one out here hunting the fox?” he muttered under his breath as he shoved another branch out of his face.
This was most certainly a job better suited for Augustine. Yet, his brother had vanished after breakfast, shouting about some errand as he escaped the house, leaving the task of hunting the fox who’d been terrorizing their chickens to Hugo.
After yet another chicken had disappeared, leaving behind nothing more than a scattering of bloody feathers, he knew he couldn’t put off the task a moment longer. There was no point in getting more chickens if they didn’t fix their fox problem first. They didn’t have the money to keep feeding a fox.
He and Augustine had discussed it more than once, and they were certain a fox must have a burrow somewhat close to the house.
The problem was that Hugo had done little hunting over the years. It wasn’t a sport he enjoyed. The socializing and the riding were great. He wasn’t a fan of the shooting, so it wasn’t something he excelled at.
In the end, he told himself that it would likely be enough to just scare the fox away. It would start looking for food somewhere other than their chicken coop. At least, that was what he hoped.
As much as he hated that this task fell on his shoulder, he couldn’t complain too much. The sun was shining, and the trees were heavy with thick green leaves. It was a perfect spring day, and he was enjoying being away from the hustle and bustle of the world. There was no pressure to be witty and make the most engaging small talk while daydreaming about sneaking out of the parlor through the closest window.
While Hugo might have forgotten about the prince, his mind still wandered to the masked stranger who’d spun the straw into gold. He’d seemed to be a carefree figure who didn’t have the weight of the world on his shoulders. He could travel about the kingdom and pursue any adventure he wished.
But why did he wear the mask?
And what had he been doing in the royal palace? It couldn’t be for any good reason. At least it had worked out for Hugo.
He was so lost in thought, he almost missed the rising cacophony of thunderous horses racing toward him until it was almost too late.
He was in the middle of a large meadow bathed in golden sunlight when almost a dozen riders broke from the shadows of the tree line. Hugo lifted his gun out of instinct to protect himself despite being outnumbered. His heart hammered painfully in his chest, and his hands trembled as swords and guns leveled on him. The riders circled him.
“Who-who are you?” he stammered even as his brain registered the men wearing the uniform of the royal guard.
“Drop your weapon and lift your hands above your head or be killed on the spot!” a soldier barked in a gruff voice.
Hugo tossed his rifle onto the soft new grass and placed his hands on his head.
“What are you doing in the woods?” the soldier demanded.
“I-I-I’m fox hunting.”
“Fox hunting, hmm?” a very familiar voice purred. Hugo’s cheeks heated, and his heart flip-flopped. He watched as two of the soldiers maneuvered their mounts, making way for another rider to come forward.
Prince Everand approached on a chestnut horse, looking devastatingly handsome in a black uniform with bright-silver buttons that caught the late-morning sun. Even his teasing smirk couldn’t detract from his handsomeness.
“Your Highness.” Hugo exhaled, his brain reduced to useless mush.
“And have you now located your fox?”
A choking noise escaped Hugo at such blatant flirting, but the prince’s grin didn’t waver for a second.