between them.
"Please, leave him alone." Greta's eyes implored him. But not to spare the boy, instead to spare himself.
He sneered at her. "I'll have to think of your punishment for daring to stop me."
Greta nodded, a shiver rocking her too thin frame where she stood.
"Get in the cart," he snarled, more angry at himself than ever before. He should have protected her better than this. There was so much he should have done, but he couldn't step back in time and fix it. No, he had to move forward, down the path he'd chosen in his cowardice.
"Where is a blanket?" He turned his angry gaze on the stable boy. "A storm is coming, and I will not be caught in it to get a cold."
He watched the boy scramble for a blanket, saw him grabbing two. "Did I ask for two?" He wanted to relieve the bile rising in his throat at the mix of anger and fear in the boy's eyes. "I only need one."
With trembling hands, the boy placed one of the blankets back, his body tense as he put the single blanket in the rear of the cart. Rafe snorted as he climbed into the back of the cart, settling himself on the blanket. "Well, hurry up."
Greta smiled sweetly at the boy, placing a hand on his shoulder. For some reason, Rafe's anger burned hotter at that gesture, but he bit his tongue as Greta climbed up and took the reins that were handed to her. They headed out, the day growing cooler as a strong breeze picked up. Once they were far away from the house, Rafe clambered into the front, settling himself and the basket between them. He gingerly took the reins from Greta and pushed the basket into her lap.
"Eat." She smiled at him, and it broke his heart just a little. The road before them was empty, and the old horse the stable boy had hitched up knew it well, so Rafe was confident in turning his gaze away for a moment and collecting the blanket. He opened it up and wrapped it around Greta's shoulders, grinning at her chiding look.
"You didn't have to terrify the boy," Greta said around a mouthful of cheese.
Rafe snorted, his grip on the reins tightening. "Appearances, my dear step-sister, are very important."
She sighed before stuffing a chunk of bread in her mouth. There was silence between them as the horse's hooves tromped the dry earth.
"The rain will be good," Rafe said, trying to break the strain that had settled on them.
Greta hummed, taking a loud bite of an apple. "Almost six months."
"Yes." Rafe wasn't sure if she referred to his birthday or the ball, but his answer fit both.
"Maybe you'll catch the eye of the prince. You will be twenty-three by then." She said it nonchalantly, but Rafe detected an underlying longing.
Rafe laughed. "No, no princes for me. You, on the other hand…" Rafe looked at her. "You're beautiful, and any man, prince or pauper, would be lucky to have you."
Greta laughed, the sound soft as she relaxed. She looked at Rafe, her light hazel eyes bright with happiness. "Thank you, Rafe. Brother." She leaned over and gave him a kiss on the cheek. A cruel action she would never know it to be. "But I won't have any chance of attending a ball, let alone a royal one. No." She held up her hand before he could speak. "It would take some form of magic, and that only exists in storybooks we are too old to read."
"If you say so," Rafe said with a shrug, but already his mind was churning. If he could save his sister, there was no reason he couldn't save his step-sister. He had six months to plan.
Chapter Two
By the time they reached the marketplace, Rafe was back in the backseat, the blanket spread beneath him and an apple in his mouth as he threw an orange peel over the side of the cart. Several of the villagers glared at him, casting sympathetic looks Greta's way while she steered the cart toward the edge of the first row of shops.
Appearances , Rafe reminded himself as he climbed from the back of the cart, were everything .
"Do you have the list?" he asked, then took a loud bite of apple, crunching obnoxiously.
"Yes." Greta
"Please, leave him alone." Greta's eyes implored him. But not to spare the boy, instead to spare himself.
He sneered at her. "I'll have to think of your punishment for daring to stop me."
Greta nodded, a shiver rocking her too thin frame where she stood.
"Get in the cart," he snarled, more angry at himself than ever before. He should have protected her better than this. There was so much he should have done, but he couldn't step back in time and fix it. No, he had to move forward, down the path he'd chosen in his cowardice.
"Where is a blanket?" He turned his angry gaze on the stable boy. "A storm is coming, and I will not be caught in it to get a cold."
He watched the boy scramble for a blanket, saw him grabbing two. "Did I ask for two?" He wanted to relieve the bile rising in his throat at the mix of anger and fear in the boy's eyes. "I only need one."
With trembling hands, the boy placed one of the blankets back, his body tense as he put the single blanket in the rear of the cart. Rafe snorted as he climbed into the back of the cart, settling himself on the blanket. "Well, hurry up."
Greta smiled sweetly at the boy, placing a hand on his shoulder. For some reason, Rafe's anger burned hotter at that gesture, but he bit his tongue as Greta climbed up and took the reins that were handed to her. They headed out, the day growing cooler as a strong breeze picked up. Once they were far away from the house, Rafe clambered into the front, settling himself and the basket between them. He gingerly took the reins from Greta and pushed the basket into her lap.
"Eat." She smiled at him, and it broke his heart just a little. The road before them was empty, and the old horse the stable boy had hitched up knew it well, so Rafe was confident in turning his gaze away for a moment and collecting the blanket. He opened it up and wrapped it around Greta's shoulders, grinning at her chiding look.
"You didn't have to terrify the boy," Greta said around a mouthful of cheese.
Rafe snorted, his grip on the reins tightening. "Appearances, my dear step-sister, are very important."
She sighed before stuffing a chunk of bread in her mouth. There was silence between them as the horse's hooves tromped the dry earth.
"The rain will be good," Rafe said, trying to break the strain that had settled on them.
Greta hummed, taking a loud bite of an apple. "Almost six months."
"Yes." Rafe wasn't sure if she referred to his birthday or the ball, but his answer fit both.
"Maybe you'll catch the eye of the prince. You will be twenty-three by then." She said it nonchalantly, but Rafe detected an underlying longing.
Rafe laughed. "No, no princes for me. You, on the other hand…" Rafe looked at her. "You're beautiful, and any man, prince or pauper, would be lucky to have you."
Greta laughed, the sound soft as she relaxed. She looked at Rafe, her light hazel eyes bright with happiness. "Thank you, Rafe. Brother." She leaned over and gave him a kiss on the cheek. A cruel action she would never know it to be. "But I won't have any chance of attending a ball, let alone a royal one. No." She held up her hand before he could speak. "It would take some form of magic, and that only exists in storybooks we are too old to read."
"If you say so," Rafe said with a shrug, but already his mind was churning. If he could save his sister, there was no reason he couldn't save his step-sister. He had six months to plan.
Chapter Two
By the time they reached the marketplace, Rafe was back in the backseat, the blanket spread beneath him and an apple in his mouth as he threw an orange peel over the side of the cart. Several of the villagers glared at him, casting sympathetic looks Greta's way while she steered the cart toward the edge of the first row of shops.
Appearances , Rafe reminded himself as he climbed from the back of the cart, were everything .
"Do you have the list?" he asked, then took a loud bite of apple, crunching obnoxiously.
"Yes." Greta
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