Title: A Thousand Miles
Author: Butter
Chapter: Six [Dressed to Impress]
Author's Note: Hey! It's been a while since my last update but not as long as beforeI've got exams coming up soon so I have an excuse this time! This chapter is a little short compared to last chapter because I have to make the next chapter extra long to fit everything I want to fit in. Look out for chapter seven because it has cool trory action ^.^ Yeah, thanks for all your great reviews, I love the feedback and it's really great motivation for me! Feel free to give any constructive critism and even if you review or not, whoever or wherever you are, I hope you continue reading A Thousand Miles' because it's definitely one of my favourites! And sorry about my cliff hangerbut I love to leave people hanging ^.^
P.S. oh yeah, n TayLiz thanks for pointing that out. Yes, Tristan' was supposed to be Jess' . ooops! Hehehe but you can tell what was on my mind ;)
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Rory swallowed nervously, watching the King pace the room. Out of the five thieves, she was the only one unhurt, not including Charles who still had Marcus' knife pressed against his throat. Jess was sprawled on the ground next to her, clutching his ankle even more tightly as the blood trickled through his fingers. Richard was still knocked out, but Jon seemed to be all right, only receiving a shallow head wound. He was now hovering protectively over Rory, his fists ready, since his sword lay on the ground next to Marcus' feet, useless.
What are we going to do about these vermin, Your Majesty? Marcus asked in a cold, unpleasant voice. Rory shot an angry glance at Marcus for calling her friends vermin, then realised that three years ago she had done the exact same thing. It didn't stop her being angry, though it made her feel a little guilty.
The king opened his mouth as if to speak, but was interrupted by a small, round, fat man dressed in blue and purple striped velvet who had burst into the room, panting. The king looked irritably over at the small man, and the little man glanced at him apologetically.
What is it, Duke? he asked, his voice short and crisp, and his blue-green eyes flashing. The Duke winced.
Sorry, Your Majesty. It's just thatthat the crowning ceremonyit's started. The Duke stuttered, his voice husky out of nervousness.
The king muttered under his breath and the Duke gave him a disapproving glance.
Your Majesty, please,
Sorry, Lancelot, The king said, and Rory was surprised to find a teasing edge in his voice. The King and the Duke were obviously old friends.
Marcus' voice snapped, harsh as a whip. The king's attention was brought to Marcus. What to do with your prisoners?
Rory objected, and the king's attention was immediately brought upon her. She suddenly realised that she still held the crown jewels in the velvet pouch in her hand. Marcus realised it too.
Hand it over, he snarled.
Marcus pressed the knife harder against Charles throat. Charles gave a small moan as the knife cut into his flesh, and Marcus's knife was now stained with drops of red. Rory could see that it was only a small cut, but Charles had never been one for pain.
Hand it over. Marcus repeated, and as Rory met his eyes, she understood his unspoken threat. She held out the velvet pouch. Tristan glanced at Marcus, and, after a nod, took the velvet pouch from Rory, their eyes meeting. He was surprised to find how blue her eyes were, but then shook his head. This was no time for courting.
Quickly looking away, he opened the pouch out of need for something else to do, and made sure that the crown jewels were safe an unharmed. After giving his affirmation to Marcus, Marcus let go of Charles. Charles fell to the floor, whimpering.
Your Majesty The Duke pressed, a little impatiently.
Tristan glanced at Marcus. He knew what he had to do.
I'll be there shortly, Duke. Make a speech or something, you're good at things like that. Tristan waved his hand dismissively. The Duke turned his round self around and strode out the doors, muttering angrily to himself something about unfairness. He hated public speaking, and Tristan knew it.
Tristan said, his tone authorities. He turned to face Rory and her friends. Jon put a protective hand on Rory's shoulder, and this, Rory was grateful for. It gave her courage. You all will stay here, until I return.
Yeah, whatever you say, Your Majesty, Jess muttered, sarcastically. Tristan turned and kicked Jess in the stomach. Jess scrunched up his face in pain, but didn't cry out.
Rory ran forward to Jess, to see if he was all right, pulling away from Jon's iron grip. But as Rory moved passed Tristan, he grabbed her arm. She glared at him, but with his right hand he drew his sword from his hilt, and for a second time felt cold metal against her throat.
You will all stay here, Tristan repeated, glaring directly at Jess. When I return, if I find out that you have run away, or tried to fight any of my guards, or cause any kind of havoc, she will die.
Jess stayed silent, glowering. He had no choice. None of them did. They couldn't risk Rory's life. Tristan removed his sword from Rory's neck, but kept his grip on her arm.
he said, pulling her sharply. Come with me.
Tristan pulled Rory out into the hallway, Marcus following swiftly behind after giving brief instructions to one of the guards. You, you must stay within my sight at all times, do you understand? he said. Stray out of my sight just a little and you shall die.
Rory was so angry now that she was sarcastic. Well, if you're going to threaten my life you might as well ask me for my name.
Tristan glared at her. Fine. What's your name?
Like I'd tell you.
Marcus caught up with the two and coldly slapped Rory across the face before Tristan could respond. That is not the way you talk to your king! he blazed, and continued walking down the hallway. Tristan, holding Rory's arm, followed. Rory didn't really have a choice.
Hurry up! Marcus snapped. Rory hurried.
At the end of the hall there was a small door that Marcus was holding open. Tristan finally let go of Rory's arm and motioned her inside the room. Rory looked at the two suspiciously but, out of options, entered the room cautiously.
You have five minutes. Marcus commanded roughly, and Rory thought that it seemed like Marcus was the King and Tristan was just another servant, but her thought was cut off when Marcus slammed the door on her. Rory heard the turning of a key, and sighed in frustration. Five minutes? To do what?
That's when she started to actually take notice of her surroundings. Turning around so that her back faced the wall, the first thing she saw in front of her was a huge bed with red satin covers. The head of the bed was against one side of the cream-coloured four-walled room. Across from the bed, leaning against another cream-coloured wall, was a huge vanity, the biggest Rory had ever seen, and next to the vanity, a wardrobe. Gingerly opening the wardrobe she saw the most beautiful gown that she had ever laid eyes on in her entire life. It was long, very long, past her ankles Rory estimated, and it was made out of some kind of purple and blue satiny material that swished when she touched it. Sewn into the material were tiny, minute diamonds that followed a sequined pattern. So exact was the needlework that the dress shimmered in the faint light of the room, giving it an unearthly glow. It was so much prettier than her amateur noble clothes that Charles had got, and she couldn't help but try it on. That's when she saw the shoes- made out of crystal and glass, shimmering with such beauty as if competing with the dress. Smiling slightly, she felt a little twinge of guilt at trying on clothes while her fellow thieves, especially Jess, were locked up in a room full of guards. Poor Jon, Richard, Charles, MitchMitch! Rory had forgotten all about Mitch! He must have still been hiding in the room where the crown jewels were! There was hope for escape! Rory felt a rush of adrenaline but calmed herself down. She had to act like Tristan had captured all of her friends with no hope of escape. She had to act like she was at Marcus' mercy. She had to play alongwhich of course, involved her trying on that dress and those shoes.
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Tristan's mouth dropped open as Marcus unlocked the door. The blue-eyed thief looked beautiful in the royal blue silk dress that shone with diamonds as she walked. The dress brought out her eyes and made them even lovelier than before. It was all Tristan could do not to stare. Marcus wasn't impressed though. He barely noticed the change.
Come on, was all he said. We can't leave the guests waiting.
Rory involuntarily followed Marcus, letting Tristan take the rear. After two flights of stairs upward and walking through countless corridors, the three finally arrived in front of a large, red curtain. Rory sensed the smell of food and heard short snippets of conversation through the curtain. There were people there, just going about their normal lives while she was held under threat of knifepoint!
Marcus turned to face Rory. You must be Tristan's courtier at his crowning ceremony. He informed her. Rory must have shown surprise on her face because Tristan stepped in. Don't worry, I'll show you the ropes. He said, smirking. Rory vividly remembered the rope that he had held in his hand when she was looking for a way out of the palace, and suddenly her anger re-erupted like a flame that refused to go out.
There's no way I'm pretending to like you, Rory spat, and Tristan recoiled, automatically defensive. He drew his sword.
Are you sure? he asked, but Rory was tired of all his threats. Under normal circumstances her temper would subside, but it wasn't every day that a King took you and your very best friends as prisoners.
Kill me, then. There's no point in my being alive if it's just so I can stand next to you. She retorted, a little more harshly then intended. Something similar to amusement lit up in Marcus' eyes.
And what about all your thief friends? How will they react when they find out you've died? he snarled.
Rory bit back a response as she thought of Jon, Richard, Charles and Jess. They were all waiting for her, forsaking any plans of escape, risking their own lives for her safety. Would she throw her own life away just like that? Certainly not!
You're right, she said to Marcus, not giving the king a second glance. For some reason she could not name she didn't want to look at him, she didn't want to stare into those blue-green eyes for fear that they might engulf her. He was so probing, so serious, yet so disturbed and obnoxious. Rory might as well not bother.
Gingerly interlinking her left arm with Tristan's right, she waited, her chin held high as Marcus signalled for the curtain to part. It parted, with the sound of trumpets blazing, as the nobles politely clapped. A murmur ran through the crowd, though, when the nobles spotted Rory, wondering who this new, unseen girl was, and whether she was of any importance to the King.
Rory, though, didn't take any notice of the people who were watching her. There was only one she was looking at- Mitch, dressed in black, situated right at the very back of the large banquet hall. He nodded once, inconspicuously, as a sign of respect, and Rory was hopeful. They might escape after all.