Chapter 4

Emmett didn’t know whether to snort in distaste or fall to his knees in awe. The man was beautiful: white, flawless skin, stunning blue eyes, and lips that had been well protected from the abuse of weather and thirst—he walked with the slow, purposeful steps of a man with rank.

The rider looked down at Emmett’s hand, still gripping the sweating man, and lifted a questioning eyebrow. Emmett swallowed hard but did not release. “The boy meant no harm, sir. I will not have him punished for the lack of repair on these streets.”

The man’s second eyebrow glided up to mirror his first. Undaunted, Emmett continued. “Until you give your word, sir.”

When the man began to speak, Emmett was sure the choirs of heaven could not have sounded sweeter. A trained voice, no doubt, to both song and language. “Do tell me, sir. Do you wear the fur that lines your jacket as a show of disrespect to the royal family and their ordinances? Or are you merely ignorant to the laws?”