5. my brother punches a pervert

"Isn't the ocean air so nice today, dear sister?" Isaiah asks so loudly that the surrounding people turn to stare at us.

"Stop callin' me yer sister, I'm yer maid ye dumb twit!" I mutter to no one in particular. Besides, the air smelled horrible today. The repugnant smell of dead fish and animal shit swirled in the air, baked by the ever steaming sun above. Honestly, the only reason I came down to Valoria on Tuesdays was because of my nincompoop brother but then again I had reasons also, such as:

Isaiah did not know anything about how to handle oneself in Valoria. And I had to keep the little shit alive.

I needed a breath of fresh air from court life. Too much pressure and rumours. All. The. Time.

The meat calzones and pastry shops that lined the inner harbour were heavenly.

As of now, we were disguised as a nobleman and his maid. Why was Isaiah a nobleman? Because he didn't know how to act like a peasant, ie. not talking about the latest ball or the latest high-end prostitute you fucked last night. Why was I a maid? Because maids have the freedom of speaking their minds without being given a second glance.

So here we are.

" So tell me, what exactly are we going to do today?"

I shrug. "Whatever, ye want, yer 'ighness."

He grins. "So I can empty all the pastry shops in the inner harbour?"

I send him a lazy glare, trying not to laugh. "Oy!" I playfully punch his arm. "Leave some for us, commoners too!"

We continue to laugh as we pass a group of young soldiers. The moment they see me, catcalls and hollers ensue. " Would you look at that pretty lady!"

"Can we get a smile, princess?"

"Nice tits ya got there! They for me!"

One of them comes up to me, blocking my way. I look up and grit down the need to shudder at him, his eyes were pure black, filled with an animalistic lust and hunger. "Good morning, Miss. I was talking to my friends when you seemed to have caught my eye. May I ask your name?" He tips his hat. Not taking his eyes off my form for a second.

Disgusting... I despise men like this. But, more than that, I was afraid of them. They were like wolves in sheep's clothing. And everything is more terrifying when you don't know, what they really are...

They were manipulative, cunning and secretive. Rapists, serial killers and abusive husbands. The reason women hate men.

"Excuse me. Miss?" His voice is as cold as ice, as he snaps his fingers in my face. I flinch.

Calm down...he's not Will...

I close my eyes and inhale. Breathe...

I regain my composure and smile at him. "I'm sorry, sir. What'd ye say?"

He blinks at me, rage slowly taking over him. Clearly, he is frustrated.

Good. It means I have a valid reason to kick your arse if need be.

Regaining his composure he asks again, "what is your name?"

Ah, yes names. The definition of identity. Isn't it so peculiar, that society lets a simple string of words define our entire being? Isn't that so stupid? After all, a name is just a word.

And words can easily be changed.

"Charlette 'ayes," keep smiling...breathe. Don't panic. Don't run.

His eyes gleam in excitement, "Charlette.... What a beautiful name..." He grins, eyeing my figure again. Igh...

"Oh, yes. And you know what my name is?" Isaiah interrupts, getting bored of the situation. Swiftly, he punches the bastard in the face and breaks his nose. Sir rapist falters and trips on a crate, and flails onto the ground.

God bless my sweet little brother.

I grin as Isaiah grabs my arm and pulls me away. Looking behind me, I make a face at the group of soldiers and their pervert friend.

My brother groans as we take a turn and pass the wall to the inner harbour. "Why does my sister have to be the most beautiful woman alive?" I laugh at his comment as he raises his hands to the sky, "why God? Why? Of all people why me as the brother of... this," he gestures to me and I start laughing even harder. "Do you not understand, how hard it is to protect this one from the disturbing amount of perverts in the world?"

At this, I stop laughing and pat his shoulder, "Cat, ye know ye don't 'ave to protect me, right?"

His eyes soften as he looks at me, a frown replacing the bright smile that, only a few seconds ago had lit up the inner harbour. He sighs and combs his snowy hair back with his hands. "I know I don't have to protect you. Hell, you could kick my ass any day you want. Amy, it's not that I have to protect you..."

Behind us, a wagon filled with fresh vegetables passes. During the war, this place was a trench. A wall between the civilians and the open sea. A precaution. A good precaution. It gave the Aresians countless advantages against the Borelians. It made me smile as I glanced up at Wall Camilla. The last wall between the main harbour and inner harbour. The wall of death, as the veterans and civilians called it. For it was said that many soldiers who crossed that wall never came back alive.

Though, to some. Like my mother and James. It was the wall of victory. Because, after the battle of tides, the final battle of the war, it was also the wall that all the surviving soldiers came back through.

Though it was no longer the soldiers' fort, it still had a lot of meaning to the soldiers and civilians. Statues and memorials dotted the area, many of them had become meeting places for young lovers and whatnot. Perhaps, that's why so many soldiers come here to talk and why so many civilians come here to sell their goods.

Speaking of goods....

"Cake!" I point at my favourite bakery and gesture for Isaiah's wallet. Why his wallet? Because I'm evil.

Good thing, my 'boss' was so 'generous.'

Isaiah blinks at me before relenting. Grinning, he pulls out his wallet, "you stay here, I'll go get the cake."

"Thank you!" I wave at him as he disappears into the crowd.

I turn around and heave a sigh. Finally alone! Thank you, Lord! I skip away and into one of my favourite bread shops in Valoria. The moment I walk in, I smell a whiff of my favourite side-dish. Though, in my opinion, it could easily be a meal on its own.

"Meat buns!" I leap to the counter, where I'm greeted by a familiar chuckle. Luka, the baker's* son and my friend**, comes out of the kitchen with a cloth in his hands.

"Back again, princess***?"

I point a finger at one of the buns through the glass, "three, now."

He laughs, wiping his hands before opening the glass casket and reaching in and grabbing three buns.

Yes, he can do that. He has large hands.....and we all know what they say about boys with large hands.

*evilly laughs internally*

"Why are you grinning at me like that?"

I use my sadist dominatrix laugh. Which just earns me another oblivious look from Luka. Jesus Christ, for the next right-hand man of the city's most notorious mob boss, he is so pure. Has he learned nothing?

I shake my head and take the bag from his hands, passing the cash at the same time. He nods and takes it. "How's yer Dad?"

He sighs and shakes his head. "Thank you, for the doctor but...." He shakes his head again, "he will pass soon and..."

And I will inherit the family...

I frown at him. Poor boy.

Most of the time, unspoken words have much more meaning than spoken ones. In this case, it was not true. Because I already knew. That those words were meaningless. No matter how much Luka tried, the gang would still go to his older brother. Lucas was never born to be the leader of his family. That was Leo's job. Therefore, the words had no meaning. Because they were a sad lie made by a man in denial.

I nod at him before turning around and leaving. The door to the 'bakery' closing behind me with the familiar ding-ding of the bell.

The sun immediately takes revenge for leaving its sight for ten minutes by overwhelming me with its blazing light. A soft spring breeze comes to my rescue and brushes against the nape of my neck. I sigh with contentment as I reach into the paper bag in my hands, grabbing a meat bun and biting into it.

The delicious scent of freshly baked bread and perfectly seasoned beef fills my nose and mouth.

Mmmm...Without a second thought, I chomp down the rest of the bun. Ahh, yes. My version of heaven.

I reach into the bag for my second-helping when a large shadow approaches me from behind. My body stiffens as the shadow gently taps my shoulder, "excuse me, Miss?" a deep masculine voice calls for my attention.

Damn.... It's the pervert again, isn't it? For the love and mercy of the Good Lord, is a broken nose not good enough of a lesson for you?

I turn around to face the dimwitted son of a man-whore and-

I feel my eyes widen as my breath stops half-way up my neck. My heart suddenly starts to pound violently against my ribs.

"Um... Miss? Is something wro-" He stops talking as we make eye contact. Lips parted, eyes widened, I hear him softly suck in his breath. If I wasn't so taken aback by his, being there. I would have said he was attracted to me.

But, I didn't. I was lost. Lost in his beautiful blond dishevelled hair and perfect, violet eyes that stared deep into my soul.

Dear. Sweet. Fucking. Jesus.

It's him.....

It's Anthony.....

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*: His father is many things besides a baker.

**: 'Friend,' among other things.

***: 'Princess' is a very common nickname for our protagonist, as you may have noticed. Truly, it has nothing to do with her title. Most of her not-noble-born friends could never have even guessed that she was noble-born. Let alone their future queen. According to her, people call her that because she 'can act spoiled sometimes'. In reality, they call her this because of her immaculate ability to act like a noble woman even when she is doing the most horrendous things. 'You can take the girl out of the palace, but one cannot take the palace out of the girl.' In a good way.

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*****

Anthony and Amelia: *big stares*

Me: *sighs* They were supposed to tell everyone to vote and comment.

Me: *turns to readers*Can someone please, vote and comment?