[b]Part 1[/b]
"Shit!"
Michael crumpled the telegram into a ball and threw it into the water. He was standing barefoot at the beach, his pants folded up to his calves to keep them from getting wet. Since it was pretty hot, he had put on his shirt without doing any of the buttons, and the material flapped against his body when the breeze blew on it.
"Stupid prick," he muttered. "Where does he think he gets off doing this to me? I'm his best friend!"
Max sent him a curt message. When he woke up this morning, the sound of the palm trees swaying outside was so beautiful he almost smiled. But Max made sure he won't get at least an hour of happiness in this exile. He was handed a telegram from the king.
[I]Ready to agree yet STOP We are waiting STOP You will not last STOP Your king[/I]
Michael uttered a string of curses again, swearing about Max's limp. hair. and his tiny. conscience. That made him curse more.
"As if the beach wasn't dirty enough. You have to spew that garbage here?"
Michael whirled around so quickly he'd have fainted had he been Princess Isabel. "Who on earth are you and what are you doing on a private beach?" he demanded.
"My my," the young woman in front of him replied. "What an attitude!"
"Just answer the question before I get you hauled off the property," he managed bitingly. She was beautiful! Not in the usual way really. At first glance one would think she wasn't attractive. His friend back home, Liz, was generally accepted as a great beauty. This girl's attractiveness wasn't like that. She was stunning in a very different way.
She wasn't statuesque like Isabel. No, this girl is much smaller. But she's not petite like Liz either. Her height and built was, against his own. just. right. She didn't have Liz's straight shiny brown hair or Tess' bobbing curls either. Her long golden hair, contrasted to those two, made Liz's look depressing and Tess' too alert.
"For your information, mister," she spat out, making Michael wince. This lady was gonna get it. Mister? Him! He wasn't mister. He was General. Prince. Highness. Commander. "You are being a jerk." His ears started ringing in warning. "You crossed the line from your private property to this very public property two feet away!"
Michael snarled in response and started stomping back two feet. "Just get off my case, witch."
"Witch?!" she screeched. "Do you know I can sue you for that?" she demanded, arms akimbo. Her sarong shifted up at that movement and exposed more skin of her legs.
"I doubt that the courts will jail me for calling you a witch."
The young woman stalked towards him and stopped where she had indicated the property line lay. She bore little holes in his chest with her finger drilling. "Just who do you think you are?"
"I'm this." He pointed to the sky, incensed at the intruder. "And you're this." He indicated the ground. "Got that?" The girl merely fumed in front of him, and he turned his back on her.
[I]Stupid Maxwell. Stupid Maxwell. Of all the places he can exile him at, he had to pick the beach with the irritating neighbor woman with freakishly lovely legs and aggravating angel voice and annoyingly haunting green green eyes. Stupid Maxwell[/I]
"Someone save me!" he groaned.
"Shit!"
Michael crumpled the telegram into a ball and threw it into the water. He was standing barefoot at the beach, his pants folded up to his calves to keep them from getting wet. Since it was pretty hot, he had put on his shirt without doing any of the buttons, and the material flapped against his body when the breeze blew on it.
"Stupid prick," he muttered. "Where does he think he gets off doing this to me? I'm his best friend!"
Max sent him a curt message. When he woke up this morning, the sound of the palm trees swaying outside was so beautiful he almost smiled. But Max made sure he won't get at least an hour of happiness in this exile. He was handed a telegram from the king.
[I]Ready to agree yet STOP We are waiting STOP You will not last STOP Your king[/I]
Michael uttered a string of curses again, swearing about Max's limp. hair. and his tiny. conscience. That made him curse more.
"As if the beach wasn't dirty enough. You have to spew that garbage here?"
Michael whirled around so quickly he'd have fainted had he been Princess Isabel. "Who on earth are you and what are you doing on a private beach?" he demanded.
"My my," the young woman in front of him replied. "What an attitude!"
"Just answer the question before I get you hauled off the property," he managed bitingly. She was beautiful! Not in the usual way really. At first glance one would think she wasn't attractive. His friend back home, Liz, was generally accepted as a great beauty. This girl's attractiveness wasn't like that. She was stunning in a very different way.
She wasn't statuesque like Isabel. No, this girl is much smaller. But she's not petite like Liz either. Her height and built was, against his own. just. right. She didn't have Liz's straight shiny brown hair or Tess' bobbing curls either. Her long golden hair, contrasted to those two, made Liz's look depressing and Tess' too alert.
"For your information, mister," she spat out, making Michael wince. This lady was gonna get it. Mister? Him! He wasn't mister. He was General. Prince. Highness. Commander. "You are being a jerk." His ears started ringing in warning. "You crossed the line from your private property to this very public property two feet away!"
Michael snarled in response and started stomping back two feet. "Just get off my case, witch."
"Witch?!" she screeched. "Do you know I can sue you for that?" she demanded, arms akimbo. Her sarong shifted up at that movement and exposed more skin of her legs.
"I doubt that the courts will jail me for calling you a witch."
The young woman stalked towards him and stopped where she had indicated the property line lay. She bore little holes in his chest with her finger drilling. "Just who do you think you are?"
"I'm this." He pointed to the sky, incensed at the intruder. "And you're this." He indicated the ground. "Got that?" The girl merely fumed in front of him, and he turned his back on her.
[I]Stupid Maxwell. Stupid Maxwell. Of all the places he can exile him at, he had to pick the beach with the irritating neighbor woman with freakishly lovely legs and aggravating angel voice and annoyingly haunting green green eyes. Stupid Maxwell[/I]
"Someone save me!" he groaned.
