Disclaimer: Haha! I'm back! Okay, never mind. I also have not come back to writing my stories as Tammy P. Forgive me, but I have not. We left this story off with Alanna finding out Roger tried to kill her. Now we move on to George.
George sat at his usual seat at the Dancing Dove, but for once, he was not surrounded by the other thieves. He had told them to go home that night, not being in a mood to party. He sipped at his drink.
"How could I be so stupid?" he whispered quietly. He drained the rest of his drink, and called for the bartender to refill it.
A purr echoed up from his lap. Now really, Faithful scorned, washing a black paw with his little pink tongue. His violet eyes glowed in the light from the fire place as he went on, It's only that Gary boys fault, and Roger's, of course.
George chuckled quietly stroking the cat's black head. "You're to damn smart for me Faithful." He murmured. The cat purred with contentment. "But either way, what do we do about Roger?"
Faithful stopped with his paw midway to his mouth. Slowly, he lowered it back onto George's lap, and looked up into the thieves eyes. We? he repeated, his voice tense.
"Yeah, us," George said, nodding.
Nothing, Faithful said wisely, Roger of Conté is Alanna's job, not ours. She chose this life, she can defend it.
George scowled at the cat, taking his large whisky from the bartender and thumping it onto the table-top. "Now wait a minute!" he hissed dangerously. "What kind of a gift from the Goddess are you?"
Faithful rolled striking amethyst eyes at the King of Thieves. I was sent to watch out for her, not to save her life every second of my life! he retorted, irritably.
"Alanna chose this life, yes," George said, his temper rising, "but she didn't choose for Duke Roger to come along and try to kill the Prince!"
Faithful sneezed in what sounded like a cat snort. Excuse me! he growled. But I thought you were deathly jealous of Prince Johnny boy?
George sniffed deeply, picked up his glass of whisky and took a large gulp from it. Slamming it back onto the table he hissed, "What if I am? It's none of your business... Faithful."
Faithful rolled his eyes, the violet catching in the light of the fire and illuminating rather eerily. I am faithful! the cat snapped. That's why I'm here! And it is my business if you're jealous of Prince Johnny boy. I came to protect Alanna, and I have to protect her from brainless lovers too!
"What's that supposed to mean?" George asked, his anger inches from bursting point.
It's supposed to mean, Faithful said sagely, That you are madly in love with my mistress who happens to be fifteen!
"So?" George snapped, lowering his voice and glaring at a man in a dark robe who watched him curiously. "I love Alanna, and she loves me."
She's still too young, Faithful retorted, his violet eyes flashing with anger. And anyway, I'm here about something different.
George rolled his hazel eyes and glared at the ceiling. "Finally, we get somewhere," he muttered towards the ceiling.
Faithful pretended as though he didn't hear this comment. As we speak, or perhaps not, Prince Johnny boy is trying to seduce your love. He was when I left anyway.
George shoved his chair back, knocking Faithful from his lap. The cat tumbled to the ground, landing in a crouched position. Hissing and snarling, Faithful clawed his way up George's leg and demanded to be held.
George grabbed the cat, threw some money on the table forhis drinks, and charged upstairs. "Tell me what you know." he ordered the cat, throwing his door open and searching for his "monk" costume. He yanked the costume on and grabbed the cat off the floor, tucking him into the folds of material.
Grabbing his window, he slid onto the roof, and dropped carefully to the ground. Faithful growled his anger, but stayed tucked tight in the thieves clothes.
George grabbed a bay mare called Fara, out of the stables and slung himself onto her already put on saddle. He wheeled the messenger horse around, and set off full gallop for the palace, anger spurring him on.
"Tell!" George ordered the cat wrapped in the folds of his cloak. He turned Fara down a long and empty back lane, and kept her moving forward.
Jonathan loves her too, Faithful said, his mind voice strained as he was jostled in George's cloak. He has for a long time. Ever since before he knew that she was a girl. He told me that he thought he was mad back then. Then he found out she was a girl. But he forced himself not to think of her like that. Lady Delia came along, and he fell for her charm. But, well... Then he met the real Alanna.
George's face was cold and tight. "She's mine," he snarled.
Faithful sighed. George, he said, his voice strangled by the cloak, If you really love Alanna, then you let her have who she wants.
George gritted his teeth, but had to admit the annoying cat was right. If he really did love her, then he would have to let her have who she wanted, not be with him if she didn't want too.
I know! I promised romance! But next chapter, I promise! Romance in next chapter. I promise! Bye for now!