Chapter 2

Friends in Low Places


Ben had to hand it to her, this girl was a pretty good shot. He took the opportunity to sneak a look or two at Mara as she fired at the hollow men down below. There was something unbelievably sexy about a woman shooting a rifle, and the way Mara handled it, it was quite distracting to the young captain.

"Hold the gates!"

Voices from the ground pulled him out of his fantasy, and he looked down to see his men pushing themselves against the gate to keep the hollow men from coming in. Before he could jump down to help them, the gates gave way, and hollow men poured through the opening like water through a broken dam. Ben continued to shoot from the ramparts, taking down multiple hollow men easily with single shots, but it seemed useless. As soon as he took one down, another was there to fill its place.

A rush of color pushed past Ben and he turned to see Mara leap from the ramparts.

"What are you doing!?" He yelled, but she was already in the air, and she landed lightly on her feet in the middle of the onslaught. She unsheathed the gigantic sword that she carried on her back, and began cutting away at the hollow men, taking them down by the dozens with beautiful flourishes. As she fought, the marks Ben noticed earlier began to glow blue like the sword, and she shone among the chaos of the battle.

Ben nearly forgot he was fighting when he saw the blue light she emitted.

It can't be…

The distraction she presented nearly cost Ben his head when a Hollow man swung a rusty sword at his neck, and he deflected the attack with the butt of his gun before extinguishing the light that fueled the monster.

A Hero?

Ben had been raised on stories about the old Hero King of Albion, and the glowing will lines that shone upon his skin when engaged in battle. It was supposedly a side effect of the magic Heroes were capable of using, and the more Ben glanced at the woman's sword as she fought, the more he began to believe that there was magic embedded in its forging. But Heroes were believed to be extinct after the late king's death, and it was thought that Heroes were linked through blood ties. Therefore, if this girl was a Hero…

He forced himself to abandon the thought and focused on the battle before him. The added benefit of Walter and this mysterious warrior-woman called Mara put ease on the worn soldiers, and they were able to cut down the horde of Hollow men with more ease than the days before.

The dog was not useless in the fighting. As Mara sent the hollow men to the ground, Aldous would pounce on them and rip their heads from their bodies. Ben strapped his rifle to his back and unsheathed his sword as he rushed down to the ground to help the pair, though he could see they didn't need it. The woman's fighting was effortless, almost like a dance. She slashed gracefully at the monsters and sent them to a second death with flourishes they certainly did not deserve; the way she killed her foes seemed almost beautiful. It was much more elegant than the stiffly formal fighting style the soldiers had been trained in, and it flowed from her as if she was in a trance. Before Ben realized it, the number of adversaries was decreasing. He watched as Mara sprinted toward the last hollow man and without interruption, sprang forward and kicked the monster back, hooking her elbow about it's neck, and with a swift jerk of her arms, snapped the skeleton's head clean off its spine. The soldiers howled with excitement as she stretched her arms, the skull of her victim dropping with a thunk to the ground. Her eyes were blazing, and the blue lines that engulfed her like flames began to subside as she sheathed her sword. She then kneeled to tousle the dog's fur as he jumped excitedly toward her, then led him away to find Walter.

Ben crossed the fort to Major Swift, who was surveying the damage as the the soldiers began to recover from the nightly ambush. "Three men dead, my dear Captain. I expected worse."

"That's three more than I would like," Ben replied. Unfortunately, it was just another three lives wasted in the pointless service of the King, and he couldn't allow himself to upset himself over it. He distracted himself by watching as Swift made his way to Walter and Mara and could not help but listen to their conversation.

"Why didn't you use your magic?" Walter asked to her as she cleaned her sword. Ben jumped when he heard this, and jerked his head over to stare at the girl in confusion. As he studied her, he could see that the markings on the sword that had shone so brightly matched the markings on her neck and rifle. He shook his head, dismissing the thought.

"I didn't need to," she responded as the dog Aldous nudged his nose under her arm searching for attention. Ben smirked and turned his head away, intending to return to his men. Lucky mutt, he thought.

"I'm afraid I must side with Sir Walter on this," Swift added, "I believe my men would be much more eager to side with you if they saw your true power, Princess."

Ben whirled around in shock at the word, and couldn't stop himself from shouting. "Princess!?" The three jolted at his voice and he marched toward the woman, with an unintentionally accusing finger pointed at her. "So you are a Hero after all?"

"Captain!" Swift scolded, but the Princess put up a hand to stop him.

"I had hoped to keep it a secret, Captain Finn, until I knew I could count on your support," she said calmly. Ben realized he was still pointing his finger at her and quickly dropped his hand to his side.

"Your support?" Ben looked from her to Walter, then at Swift. "Support for what?"

The Princess looked him over thoughtfully, and Swift lowered his voice. "It's alright, Princess. Ben is perhaps the most trustworthy man you will meet."

Ben blinked a few times and cleared his throat. "Well, Swiftie, I didn't know you were keeping secrets from me." He raised his voice a bit. "Support for what?"

"A revolution, Captain." The Princess said in a sharp, commanding voice. "To overthrow the tyrannical king. My brother, Logan."

Ben didn't realize his mouth had dropped nearly to his feet. He made a noise that slightly resembled that of a choking cat, and turned his eyes back to Swift. "You knew about this?"

Swift let out a laugh that shook his majestically sculpted mustache and clapped Ben on the shoulder. "Ah, Ben! Of course I wasn't going to keep it from you forever, boy! But it's only been Walter and myself for the past few years, hardly a revolution to tell you about, really."

Ben allowed his mind to wrap around all the things that had just been told to him. A revolution? Good God, a revolution! It was about bloody time, and this warrior princess would overthrow the king. He turned to look at the Princess and he felt his blood suddenly abandon his face. Bugger, that was the princess of Albion. He stumbled through all the things he had said to her and kicked himself. He nearly felt ashamed for all the thoughts he had been having about her, though that guilt faded quickly when he noticed her fiery stare…

"No, no, you bloody idiots!" Swift's sudden outburst brought Ben back to reality and he turned to see the Major marching angrily toward a group of soldiers burying the dead. "Not in the fort, outside! Outside! Don't you remember what happened with Lieutenant Simmons!?"

Walter patted Ben as he followed Swift, and Ben awkwardly turned to the Princess, who had taken a seat on a crate by the fort wall. Aldous was rolled over on his back, shamefully begging for a tummy rub, and the tired woman obliged. Ben could have sworn the dog winked at him.

"So," he ventured, taking a seat next to her, "a princess, huh?"

The Princess sneered. "Do not assume I am anything like my brother. I may be a princess, but I do care for the lower classes, despite what people may think."

Ben looked at her for a long moment, and when he finally mustered the courage to speak, he couldn't keep his voice from sounding like a child in awe. "Are you really a Hero?"

She sighed. "I suppose so. That's what these mean, anyway." She rolled her sleeve up to her elbow, showing him her arm, which was covered in intricate designs flowing down to her knuckles. They were still faintly glowing from the excitement of the fighting. He reached toward her instinctively, then stopped himself. "May I?"

She nodded, and he took her arm in his hands and traced the will lines with his fingers. He held back a chuckle at the distinct difference between them; his rough, calloused hands against her smooth, ivory skin almost seemed comedic. Despite himself, feeling how soft her skin was sent a jolt of excitement through him, and he wondered if she was feeling the same at his touch. He looked up and saw that her eyes, focused on the dog rolling around in the dirt in front of her, were regrettably indifferent.

He turned his gaze back to the will lines, which were now nothing more than a faint embossment on her skin. "Are—" he hesitated, unsure if his curiosity would be considered inappropriate, "Are they all over?"

The Princess, to his surprise, chuckled. "Yes," she whispered. Ben knew she was not meaning to be seductive, but dammit if he didn't want to ravish her at the thought. He shook his head and straightened himself. "So," he said, a little louder than he meant to, "you're quite a fighter, you know that?"

Aldous brought her a bone he found on the body of a Hollow man and set it at her feet. Ben didn't want to admit how adorable it was when she threw it and the dog chased happily after it.

"Walter taught me everything I know," she explained with a smile. "I never realized why he was so adamant about my training, until now."

"Now that you're a runaway Princess?" he teased, and she let out a small laugh at the idea. "Why did you decide to go down the treason path, anyway?"

The smile faded, and Ben wondered if he should have asked the question, though he couldn't figure out why. Was is because Logan was her brother? Why did he care, anyway?

The Princess took a deep breath and stood. "Because the King did something unforgivable. He needs to be punished."

Ben wondered which of Logan's many unspeakable crimes was the one she referred to, and he watched her, mesmerized, as she walked away.


Ben pushed his legs as hard as he could to beat the sunset as he ran up the hill toward his family home. The unimpressive shack that housed the Finn family sat in a group of similar houses, with a crumbling well at the center. As Ben neared the house, he could see the comforting shape of his mother, Eleanor, standing at the well, no doubt gossiping with the other wives while their dead-beat husbands were down at the town pub spending money they did not have. Ben felt a twinge of pain in his chest that he could not explain when he saw her gentle face, and felt an overwhelming urge to throw himself at her and have her comfort him as if he were a child again.

"Mum!" he cried, and she turned toward him in surprise as he toppled over, breathless from his sprint.

"By Avo, Benjamin," she exclaimed, pulling him up to face her. "What has gotten you so worked up?"

"Quentin," he gasped, "where is he?"

Worry flashed across his beautiful mother's face, a look that she sported often having raised four boys. "He—he's in the house. What's happened, Ben? What has he done?"

Ben broke away from her and bolted for the house. "Go stay with Mrs. Ferris for a while, Mum! Don't come to the house, please don't!"

His older brother, Quentin, was sitting at the slab of wood the Finns called a dining table when Ben flew through the door. "Benny! What are you doing, brother? You nearly took the door off its hinges—"

Ben ran to the cupboard in the kitchen and grabbed his gun as his other brothers, Jason and Will, wandered into the room. "Quent, those men are coming here. The ones who you owe money to. They're coming to kill you."

Quentin had no time to react as the door suddenly went flying across the house in a flurry of splinters, and five brawny men with tattoos covering their leathery skin and wreaking of old tobacco filed into the room. They bypassed Ben and the others with their swords drawn, and went straight for Quentin, plunging their weapons deep into his chest; a disturbing gurgling noise erupted from his brother's mouth as blood spilled out of it, and the attackers continued hacking and slashing their way through his body until he was a mangled corpse on the floor.

"NO!" Ben screamed, and turned to Will and Jason. "Help me! Why won't you move?" He aimed at the intruders and fired, letting out cries of anger as his bullets did nothing to stop them. They continued to hack at Quentin's lifeless body, and Ben frantically reached for more bullets in his pocket. He felt something unfamiliar in his fist as he pulled it back out, and looked down to see he had found nothing but peas in his pocket. He looked back at his gun, and saw that it was after all nothing more than his old pea-shooter he had when he was a young boy.

Ben chuckled sadly as the brutes robotically sawed and chopped at his brother's corpse. "I see," he muttered. "It's just a dream." He looked over at where Will and Jason had been standing, and his brothers were nowhere in sight.


"ELLIOT!"

Ben was pulled violently from his sleep at the sound of the Princess' cries, and he found himself back at Fort Mourningwood on his dirty bedroll. He jumped to his feet and saw that Walter was already with the Princess, kneeling beside her cot, gently trying to wake her as she tossed around wildly in her slumber. Some of the soldiers began to stir as well, and Ben gestured with his hand for them to go back to sleep.

Aldous licked Mara's face anxiously when she calmed down, and Walter eased her onto her side so that she might sleep more peacefully. Ben stepped toward him and patted his huge arm, motioning for the him to follow with a nod of his head. Walter followed him to a pile of barrels nearby, and Ben found a somewhat clean tankard to fill with ale for the old knight. He handed it to Walter and poured some for himself.

"Thank you, boy," Walter sighed, sitting in a chair and resting his colossal boots on the table next to him. "Hard to get back to sleep when the cries of a woman awaken you, eh?"

Ben chuckled. Sir Walter had, no doubt, had his fair share of women in his younger days, probably still even now. He was a handsome old bastard, Ben had to admit.

He sighed. "There's truth in that, Wally. But I'm glad to be awake."

"Oh?" The old man eyed him. "Dreaming of your family again?"

Ben smiled despite himself. "Swift tells you everything, doesn't he?"

"Oh yes, my boy. He is my oldest friend, after all. He worries about you, you know."

Ben knew Walter meant well. After having lost his entire family, Ben took to Swift much like the father he didn't have anymore. It was thanks to Swift that Ben had joined the army and found some semblance of purpose in life, after years of wandering the world a ruffian. The not-so-tragic and rather comedic death of Jason, the disappearance of Will, the violent end to Quentin and the resulting grief-ridden passing of his parents would have been enough to send any man into utter despair, but thanks to Major Swift, Ben was able to carry on the Finn name with a sort of dignity that was lost with his delinquent brothers. He really did nothing to help the fact though that his brothers had famously made the name synonymous with "wife-bedder."

His eyes wandered back to the sleeping Princess, and he nodded toward her before taking a swig of ale. "Is she alright?"

Walter cleared his throat and stretched. "Just a nightmare. Poor girl gets them regularly. Though I suppose that's what you get when you have a tyrant king for a brother."

"Hmm," Ben watched as Aldous jumped up onto the Princess' cot, and curled up into a ball at her feet. "Who's Elliot?"

A deep sigh came from across the table, and Ben looked over to see Walter eyeing his ale with a thoughtful, sad gaze. He took a sip and looked over his shoulder toward the Princess. "He was Mara's fiancee."

"…Was?"

"Mhmm. They had been engaged since birth, and she loved him very, very much. He was executed by Logan about four months ago." Walter spat onto the dirt beside him. "He forced Mara to choose between Elliot and some innocent commoners."

Ben lost the feeling in his hands, and the ale he had just swallowed came back as a sour brine in his throat. He remembered hearing about a noble who had been executed in place of a few commoners; he had been ordered to patrol the streets of Bowerstone after the incident prompted widespread protest. He never would have imagined that noble was her fiancee; her earlier words about Logan's unforgivable actions suddenly made more sense to him. And the thought of a man that the princess was in love with…Ben felt a strange pang of jealousy he couldn't explain. He dismissed it as a side effect of whatever infatuation he had found himself victim to due to her incredible attractiveness, nothing more.

"Poor girl," Ben managed, and downed the rest of his ale.

Walter eyed the Captain, and also finished his ale before he stood and stretched, looking out toward the spot where the sun was struggling to rise over the unsightly bog. "You're a good man, Ben."

Ben watched in confusion as Walter walked away, and the soldiers began to rise sleepily from their bedrolls.


Mara cursed loudly when she stepped in the knee deep mud. Aldous hopped around her as she tried to pry herself from the earth's grasp without success.

"BLAST THIS BLOODY BOG!" She screamed with all her might, sending some otherwise peaceful crows into startled flight above them. Ben laughed uncontrollably and extended a hand to help her up.

"That was beautiful alliteration, Princess," Ben said between fits of laughter, wiping tears from his eyes. "And I'm afraid you'll need new pants."

Mara glared at him as he pulled her from the mud. After she righted herself, she trudged past him, exhausted with his company. Walter promised to meet them at the Bowerstone Industrial district that night, and Major Swift volunteered Ben as Mara's escort.

"Damn that Walter, sending me ahead of him. It would have been simpler if I stayed with him at the Fort."

Ben chuckled. "Well, dear Princess, he probably didn't want you to be surrounded by horny soldiers any more than you had to."

Mara snorted. "And he sends me with the horniest soldier of them all as my escort."

"Ouch, Princess, you wound my pride!"

"Please," she said dryly, looking back at him. "I've heard the stories about you, Captain Finn. Your men were entirely too eager to enlighten me to your history. Sergeant Grove, especially."

He let out another chuckle. "Ah, Grove. He does love my stories. He keeps trying to convince me to write a book."

"Oh?" Mara took a stick that Aldous presented to her, and threw it ahead for him to chase. "And do you plan on doing so?"

Ben shrugged. "I don't know, Princess. Do you think people would read it?"

"I would," she replied much more honestly than Ben had expected. "If you have been on as many adventures as the men say you have, minus the parts about your conquest of farmer's wives." Ben blushed in embarrassment. "Besides, It's much more exciting than anything I would have read back at the castle."

"Really?" His shame disappeared and he found himself beaming with pride. "Depending on what stories you've heard already, you may not believe me when I promise that they are all very true."

The princess snorted, and Ben suddenly wondered with a bit of fear which stories about him she had been exposed to. "I look forward to hearing more of them, Captain."

"Princess, how many times must I ask you to call me Ben? 'Captain Finn' is just so formal."

"I think it would be best if we didn't become too familiar."

Ben jogged in front of her and put up an arm to stop her in her tracks. "Ah! I see, you're afraid of getting close to me?" He teased with a smile. "Are you afraid you might fall for my charms, Princess?"

She ducked under his arm and continued forward. "Don't flatter yourself, Captain. It's only common sense. I'd rather not have to witness any more death, especially of those I care about."

He felt a twinge of pain when she said that. That Elliot's death had really done a number on her. He shoved his hands in the pockets of his red uniform vest and sighed. "You're wanting to start a revolution, Princess. People are going to die, and you know that. But you can't help yourself from caring about people. It's human nature."

Mara was silent for the rest of the walk to the village outside the Industrial sewers. They crossed a bridge of wooden planks to a huge opening in the brick wall encompassing the city, emanating a thick, putrid odor from underneath Industrial. Ben coughed obnoxiously before gesturing ahead. "Well, Princess, there it is! The bowels of Bowerstone. Beyond these sewers is the embodiment of industrial prowess. Shall we?"

They reluctantly traversed the sewers until they reached Bowerstone Industrial. As they emerged from the sewers, Mara's breath caught in her throat. She had only ever seen Industrial from the castle gardens, high above the city; she never would have believed the reality of the place to be so dismal. She had had utterly no idea a place like this existed in Bowerstone, and the full scale of her ignorance hit her just as hard as the stench of the streets and the loud hum of machinery. The sunlight fought fruitlessly against the thick smog, and it almost seemed like they had stepped into night. It was overwhelmingly busy here; factory workers scrambled around the district, beggars lined the soggy streets, birds pecked at the decaying bodies of a few unfortunate souls who died right in the center of the cobblestone walkways.

"Poor sod," Ben said as they passed one such body, "Probably died of starvation, or overwork. This is it, Princess. The real reason behind the revolution. These unlucky thousands who just want to feed their families. Ah!" He was distracted by a pub on the other side of the canal they had come to. "The Riveter's Rest. An old classic. Shall we break for a bit? Walter will be a while."

Mara followed Ben over the bridge and into the pub. She sat in a chair across from the captain and watched Aldous outside the front door as he lay down for a nap; Ben motioned for the bar keep. "Louis, two if you don't mind!"

"Aye, lad, two it is," the old man bellowed, and he brought them two tankards of ale. Mara watched with wide eyes as the huge stein was set in front of her, and the aroma of alcohol seeped into her nostrils. Ben stared at her as she contemplated it. "You don't drink, Princess?"
Mara shrugged. "I drank wine with dinner every night, but never ale." Ben took a large sip and watched excitedly as Mara lifted the tankard to her lips. He roared with laughter when she jumped back at the bitter taste, making a face he was sure she didn't want him to see.

"Ugh! You drink this willingly?"

Ben happily took another swig. "Indeed, Princess. It grows on you. The more you drink it, the better it tastes."

Mara looked distrustingly at him, but took another sip anyway. She found herself joining in his laughter at the way the taste contorted her face.


"You're kidding!" Mara threw her head back with laughter. "And the pirates just let you on the ship?"

Ben nodded, downing a large gulp of ale. "They did indeed. I don't know if it was on a drunken whim, or part of a drunken bet, but drunkenness definitely had something to do with it. I wandered onto the frigate and they decided to keep me as part of the crew."

Mara leaned her elbow on the table and rested her head delicately on her fingers. "Are you going to put that in your book?"

Ben tried not to be distracted by how unbelievably tempting her loose fitting tunic was as she sat in that position. "Do you think I should? That was one of the best times of my life, I'll admit. Though it didn't prove to be the most reliable source of income, so I was forced to abandon it."

The Princess smiled. Ben leaned back in his chair and watched her intently for a moment before speaking. "Now that I've told you some more of my adventures, how about you tell me something about yourself?"

"Oh?" Mara took another small sip of ale. "What would you like to know?"

He shrugged. "Well, a lot of things, Princess. It's not every day you get to press a noble for personal information." A certain deviant thought flashed across his mind and he shook his head to rid himself of the idea. He had to remember that this lady was a princess, not a common bar girl who's skirt he was trying to get under. His red face did not go unnoticed, however, and Mara leaned over the table to study him with feigned suspicion. "You seem to have thought of something, Captain. What is it?"

Ben was genuinely curious, but he was sincerely enjoying this woman's company and had no desire to make her despise him again. "It's nothing, Princess," he said with a smile. "Just a…thought. Hardly appropriate for present company."

"'Hardly appropriate' you say?" She laughed musically. "Well now you've peaked my curiosity, Captain! Now you have to tell me!"

"I refuse. I've already made a good impression on you, I cannot risk it."

"Oh, is that all it is?" Mara waved her hand, as if waving the thought aside. "I promise not to hate you, if that's what you're afraid of! Besides, I'm rather enjoyingyour company, Captain. I don't hate easily."

The Princess was incredibly affable once her guard was down, as Ben was coming to realize. He smiled mischievously, and looked around before leaning forward to keep his voice strictly between them. "Are you a virgin?"

To Ben's glorious surprise, Mara threw her head back and let out a roaring fit of laughter, nearly falling backwards out of her chair. The pub was crowded and loud, but her laughter seemed louder than all the voices in the building. Ben tried to stifle his own surprised laughter as she leaned forward on her elbows to steady herself, and wiped tears from her eyes. "Is that all?" She gasped, "I thought you were going to ask something worse!"

"Something worse?" he chuckled in amazement, "What's worse than asking a princess if she's a virgin?"

Mara's smile did not fade with her laughter. "I suppose you're right. I guess I was expecting you to ask me if I was a man, or if I was half balverine or something. Something utterly ridiculous."

Ben chuckled. "Answer my question, then, if it isn't so ridiculous."

Her smile widened and she leaned forward, though she looked away from him. "If you must know, Captain Finn, no, I am not."

Ben's jaw dropped and he let out an oddly victorious guffaw. "Are you serious?"

The Princess blushed deeply and smiled shyly. "Why do I seem to trust you?"

"Honestly, I do not know."

Mara turned and looked out the window next to them at the busy streets of Bowerstone Industrial, and her smile suddenly faded as a sad thought visibly flashed across her face. A long moment passed and Ben looked down to study his disappearing ale before her voice reached him again, quiet and thoughtful. "It was only once, with… I'm sure Walter's informed you about my fiance."

Ben looked back up at her and cleared his throat. "Right, um, Elliot, was it?"

The sadness in the Princess' eyes pierced his chest as she turned back to look at him. "He…he was my best friend ever since we were children. I loved him…so much."

The young captain was unable to find words of comfort. He had comforted many a crying woman before, but his intentions then had been very different. This was possibly the first time he genuinely wanted to comfort someone without any questionable motives, and he had no idea how.

"What hurts the most," she continued slowly, as if she was just finding the idea as soon as the words were coming to her lips, "is that I cannot bring myself to hate him."

"…Him? Do you mean Logan?"

She clenched her hands into fists and brought them to her forehead, as if she was furious with herself for what she was saying. "No, I do hate him. I hate him for murdering Elliot… but, at the same time, I love him. He's my brother, I cannot help but love him. The world has not seen him the way I have…and the things people are saying about him—though I know they are all true—they just hurt me. But then I think of Elliot, and I can't—" She choked on her words, and could not find more.

Without thinking, Ben's hand reached out rebelliously to wipe a tear that was rolling down her cheek. She seemed to be frozen in her thoughts, her enormous, glinting eyes seemed to be begging his for some sort of help that he was unsure of. Her brown hair tumbled over her shoulders, framing a beautifully round face usually pale as snow, but now red with fury and sadness. In this moment, she was so captivating, and he had half a mind to kiss her right then and there. As soon as that thought crossed his mind, he tore his hand away before he did anything he might regret. She was a princess, after all. He did his best to regain his normal, indifferent composure, and leaned back in his chair.

He felt bizarrely as if he was naked as he felt her eyes boring into him. "I was wrong about you, Captain."

"Oh?" Ben put his hands behind his head. "How so, Princess?"

She had regained her composure, and her voice had transformed back into her dignified, diplomatic tone. "Well, from the stories I've heard from your men, and from Walter, I had you pegged as a common scoundrel. But now I see why they respect you so much."

Ben furrowed his brow. "Is that what Wally thinks of me?"

She chuckled. "He respects you as a soldier, and as a superb marksman, but he wasn't shy about explaining your prowess with women."

"I'm honored." Ben leaned forward and rested his arms on the table. "Grove is adamant about there being a chapter in my book about that. But, anyway, I'm glad I've made a favorable impression on you, Princess."

She smiled again and rose to her feet. "Walter should be looking for me now." Ben stood to see her out.

"Drinks are on me, Princess."

Mara whistled for Aldous, who jumped happily to his feet and trotted to his mistress. Ben leaned against the doorway as the pair took a few steps onto the cobblestone road before Mara turned around again, and looked at him with a soft expression. "Thank you, Ben."

Unable to muster any words, he watched in giddy awe as she turned away and disappeared into the crowd, hoping to whatever gods would listen to a lousy good-for-nothing like him that he might see her again.