Royal Thievery
1257 Words
“Annicke, stop!” Weston panted. “It isn’t fair! Bring it back!” But ahead of him, Annicke only giggled and sped up, holding Weston’s diary close to her chest like a treasure. “You’re faster than me,” Weston grumbled as he dashed through the halls after his imp of a sister.
Annicke turned a corner and very nearly crashed into an Omega. “Sorry,” she murmured, not stopping. The Omega, an older wolf carrying a stack of linens so high it nearly obscured his vision, tried to bow to the young Princess. The linens went toppling.
“Ack!” Weston turned the same corner, his foot landing on a fallen bedspread and coming out from under him. He slipped and crashed, landing hard on his back.
“My Prince, sir, are you okay?” The Omega asked in a panicked voice, his eyes widening. “I am so sorry, sir, please, stay there, I’ll get a Healer.”
“No need!” Weston replied. He sprung to his feet with the energy of a young pup. “I’m sorry about the mess,” he added, glancing around at the now dirtied linens on the floor. “Are you okay?”
“Yes,” the Omega replied with a little crinkling smile that lit up his eyes. “I apologize again.”
“Don’t worry about it!” Weston said. He was already moving away. Once he was clear of the mess of linens, he shot off again.
As he ran down the corridor, he realized he had lost track of where his twin sister had gone. But he knew her better than he knew himself. He had a hunch she was headed toward the orchard, which was located on the expansive castle grounds.
He ran past the rich tapestries and the countless guards who all scrambled to bow.
“Have you seen my sister?” he called out. One of the guards pointed the way down a hallway which would, indeed, lead him to the orchards. So he redoubled his efforts, running faster toward the entryway through which he could access the grounds.
“Thank you,” he added over his shoulder at the guard, without slowing down.
The guards at the entrance barely had time to swing open the doors for him before he was tumbling through, glancing around in the bright autumn sunlight. He smiled when he saw Annicke’s distant form, nearly at the orchard. He took off running after her, even once she disappeared into the thick of the trees and was unsure of where she had gone.
He took a second to lean up against a tree trunk when he reached them, panting slightly.
“Annicke,” he called out. “Come onnn,” he elongated the word. “Please give it back.”
Annicke didn’t answer, but Weston heard a giggle from further into the orchard. He grinned a little in spite of himself, pushed himself upright, and tread into the trees.
“Annicke,” he called, hoping she would make a noise and reveal herself again. “Come out!”
“No,” came her voice.
Weston’s head snapped up when he realized it sounded as though she had climbed a tree. “Not fair!” He shouted. Wolves didn’t like to climb trees, usually, but Annicke loved it.
“Why not?” she said, another giggle accompanying the words. “You can get up here if you want to!”
He laughed and turned right, following her voice. “I’m going to get you back, Annicke!”
“You don’t know where I keep my diary, Weston.”
“I can find it.”
“Good luck.”
Weston stopped at the base of a tree and looked up. There Annicke was, grinning down at him, his diary still unopened and clutched in her hand as she waved it over his head. “You are so annoying,” he told her.
“It isn’t my fault that you hid it under your bed where anyone could find it,” she teased him. “You should be more creative.”
“Why would anyone want to read my silly diary, though?”
“I don’t know, stealing kingdom secrets?”
Weston laughed. “Oh, yes, at eight, and as the second born son not expected to inherit the throne, I know so many of those.”
“I guess I’ll have to read it to find out!”
Weston sighed. “Go ahead,” he said, defeated. He sat himself down at the base of the tree. “I’ll wait.”
“It isn’t as fun if you don’t care,” Annicke pouted. “Why don’t you come up here and try to steal it back?”
“Because I’m tired!” Weston replied, pouting slightly. “I chased you all the way out here. Also, you knocked into that Omega and made him spill the bed linens everywhere. I slipped on one! It hurt. So you owe me an apology.”
“Oops,” Annicke said. Her voice still had a light lilt of teasing to it. “But was the Omega okay?”
“Yes, but you could have stopped and asked him yourself,” Weston pointed out. “Mother would have been disappointed in you.”
Annicke’s voice lost the joking tone as she said, “well… you’re right. That was rude of me. I’ll find him and apologize.”
“You’re not getting down from here until I get my diary back, Annicke.” Weston replied, looking up at her.
A second later, with a heavy thump, the book landed next to him in the dirt.
“Hey!” He shouted as he picked it up. “Be careful!”
“There’s nothing interesting in there anyway,” she said, swinging down on the branches before jumping to the ground, landing lightly on her feet. Annicke had always been almost catlike in her reflexes, like the little ones who would sometimes wander the city streets in search of food, able to jump and twist through crowds and out of the way of carriages seemingly like magic. “Except that you are worried about Wyatt. Me too,” she looked serious for a second, sitting down next to her twin. She reached into her bag, which was slung over one shoulder, and pulled out two hearty looking rolls and a flask full of juice.
Weston took the roll that she held out to him, biting into it and chewing thoughtfully. “He seems sad recently.”
“Yes, to me too, and I spoke to him a few days ago in the library. He had a lot on his mind, but I don’t think I understood any of it.”
“Maybe we could cheer him up?” Weston suggested.
“How?” Annicke asked, taking a sip of her juice.
“We could… take a trip into the city!” Weston said, suddenly excited. “To the market! He has always liked to people watch there!”
“What a great idea,” Annicke said. “I’m going to go tell him now!”
She stood up and zipped off, shoving her roll and her flagon of juice back into her bag as she ran.
“Excellent,” Weston said. “Wait!” he suddenly exclaimed, jumping to his feet and running after Annicke. “It was my idea! You can’t steal it!”
Annicke just laughed over her shoulder and sped up.
- Writer
