“Why do they keep
coming after you?” Kitty whispered, as she wrapped the strange, foreign coat more tightly around her. If she'd had to stumble into another world, she wished it could have at least been a warmer one.
“Because,” the
young man murmured, his eyes searching the dark forest around them, “I am the
king of my people, and if they capture me, they can use me for negotiation
purposes—or, should a certain element have their way, they can kill me to
effect a new reign.”
“You’re a king?” Kitty hissed. “You’re joking!”
“That is nothing I
would joke about,” he answered, in such a way that Kitty got the impression he
wasn’t exactly happy about being a king—if he even were one, that is. While she didn’t expect kings in any world to
run around wearing crowns or sable robes, she did expect something…well, less
university student-ish. Yet all those
men in the camp had greeted him as if he were a rock star, and
the two soldiers who found them in the ditch looked massively relieved to
discover him safe.
Could it be
possible?
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