Max was riding along as quickly as the horse would go. In no time at all, he would be in Italy – away from France and his obligations. Of course, he didn't have any money having given it all away earlier that morning, but Max was confident he would be all right.
Thinking back to that morning, Max gingerly felt his forehead. He winced slightly when he touched his bruise. Whoever that girl was, she certainly knew how to throw!
Suddenly, he came upon a caravan of carts. It appeared that it was being raided by gypsies. Women and children were huddled in a group while men were chasing the gypsies. An old man with white hair was valiantly trying to fight one particular gypsy. "Stop!! Give that back!" Instead, the gypsy held on tighter to the large canister and ran off past Max. As Max rode to a stop, all the gypsies looked at him, or rather past him, and ran off.
Max sat up a bit taller on the horse. Imagine that, all of the gypsies running off at the sight of him. 'I had no idea I was that intimidating,' he thought to himself. But then he heard a lot of hoofbeats behind him. 'Oh, no. Don't tell me,' he groaned. He turned around, and sure enough, were the Royal Guards, after him, no doubt.
He started to life the reins for the horse to go when the old man grabbed the bridle. "Please, stop! You must chase after that man!" he pointed to the back of the gypsy who had taken the canister.
Max wanted to – but the Guards were going to catch up to him at any minute. "The Guards will assist you, I cannot. I'm sorry."
However, the old man refused to release the horse. "Please, it is my life," he pleaded.
Max couldn't just turn down this old man, but the Guards were coming closer. His freedom or this old man? He sighed and realized that there really was no debate. "Go!" he urged his horse and chased after the gypsy.
Max kept his eye on the gypsy's back as he rode up the hill after him. Branches and leaves sprung up all around him and Max had a hard time staying on track after the thief. Right before his eyes, the assailant disappeared over the top of a hill from Max's view. "Damn," Max muttered to himself. He forced the horse to go even faster.
At the crest of the hill, Max stopped the horse. He couldn't see that gypsy anywhere. 'Where could he have gone?' Max thought to himself.
"Yahhh!" Max turned in time to see the gypsy come trotting up toward him on a horse. 'Where did he get that?' Max had time to think before he was knocked off. "Ooff," Max groaned as he landed on the ground.
He quickly got back up and said, more to himself, "Oh, you are going to pay dearly for that." As the gypsy rounded toward him again on the horse, Max prepared himself. In a game of chicken, Max stared the gypsy down as he came closer. 'Timing has got to perfect, Max,' he told himself. 'You can do this.'
Just when it seemed as if the horse was going to run right over Max, he jumped to the side and grabbed the gypsy's leg, pulling him off the horse – along with the canister. They both stumbled to the ground but Max recovered first. He gave a quick blow to the man's head and grabbed the canister and tried to bolt. However, he realized he wasn't going to get to far when the gypsy grabbed his foot and caused Max to trip.
Max started kicking at the hands and said through gritted teeth, "Let go." Managing to free himself from the entanglement, Max got up and started running again. With a roar, the gypsy started running after him. "Give that back!"
"It's not yours!" Max retorted indignantly before the gypsy took a flying leap and tackled him. Both of them fell to the ground and blows started coming. The two men fought on stubbornly and they ended rolling and wresting down a steep hill. Max happened to look away from the gypsy for a second and froze when he saw that he was going to go over a cliff.
"Oh my God!" Max shouted out and desperately tried to climb back onto his feet – even with the gypsy still hanging onto his body. Before either of them knew it, they were falling through the air. Both men tried flailing their arms in a pathetic attempt to fly but soon felt the painful entry into the water below.
Max held on tightly to the canister as he struggled back toward the surface. His lungs screamed for air and he gasped as he finally surfaced. He took a few ragged breaths and started swimming for the shore.
~*~*~*~
"This should be what you're looking for," the vendor said in an oily voice. He grinned and Rodmilla winced at the sight of his crooked, yellow teeth. She took the gold brooch from him, careful not to touch his dirty hands. She held the brooch up to Tess's neckline, right under Tess's cleavage. Tess looked at her mother expectantly.
Rodmilla shook her head. This would not capture enough attention to her daughter's chest. "No, too small," she replied haughtily. "I want something bigger."
The vendor chuckled nervously. "But, Baroness, I fear anything larger will cause her to fall over."
'That's what I want the men to do, particularly Prince Max,' Rodmilla thought. Her mind quickly whirled and she said, baiting the shopkeeper, "Very well then. We'll just have to look elsewhere." She then pretended to take Tess's arm, as if to lead her away. The vendor fell for her trap.
"Wait a minute. I just may have something for you after all."
Rodmilla smirked. She then glanced around furtively, making sure that no other nobles where around. It wouldn't do if a countess saw her buying jewelry from the street. It was a good thing she had Maria nearby to warn her if she saw anyone of higher class coming.
~*~*~
"Are they still there?" Liz asked for the tenth time.
"Yes," Alex answered patiently. He paused by a painting of an older woman and studied it for a moment. It was only half-finished but Alex was already pleased with it. This was the first work that his master had allowed him to paint by himself – for a countess no less!
That was where and Liz were – in the studio. Liz had asked Alex for help in getting Maurice back and he knew that there was no way that he could not help her. Liz was behind a screen changing into the dress that they were 'borrowing' for the moment.
"I can't believe we're doing this," Alex complained. "May I remind you that the penalty for pretending to be a courtier is three days in the stocks. Three!"
"I have to save Maurice, Alex," Liz answered firmly. She tried to ignore the butterflies in her stomach as she realized the penalties if she were to be caught.
"And what are they doing?" she asked.
"They're buying a brooch or something," Alex replied as he ground various roots together for a new color. He peered at Rodmilla and Tess with disgust on his face as he turned back around.
"Amazing," Liz stated bitterly. "Rodmilla always claims we have no money to fix up the estate but there is always money to buy new clothes and jewelry." She paused and looked down at herself. She bit her lip for a second and said, "Don't laugh. I'm coming out."
Alex turned around and waited for Liz. When she stepped out, he gasped. He could hardly believe that this was Liz. She was wearing the same dress as the noblewoman in the portrait but it looked so much better on her. This was no longer the same Liz he had known all his life. She looked like a lady.
Liz was embarrassed. This wasn't her. She looked down and self-consciously held her hand up to her chest. "All these yards of silk and I still feel…naked. And the shoes don't fit."
Alex was quick to help his friend. He said firmly and confidently, "Now that won't do. You are a countess and you must hold your head high. You look down to no one."
Liz nodded and tried to feel the part. She lifted her head higher and pretended she was Tess. Alex nodded in approval. "Come on, let's do something with your hair and try to solve the shoe situation."
Liz couldn't help but giggle at Alex's eagerness, allowed herself to put away her nerves, and just be swept away by the experience.
I hope you liked this part! More to come! Feedback please! Great, good, bad, why are you torturing us?