Total pages in book: 104
Estimated words: 96695 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 483(@200wpm)___ 387(@250wpm)___ 322(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 96695 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 483(@200wpm)___ 387(@250wpm)___ 322(@300wpm)
That was true. And if he could see Everand, he could tell him the truth about the straw and gold. It was the one lie that was still hanging between them. Everand had stated that he trusted him, and Hugo was determined to be truly worthy of it.
“I’ll think about it,” Hugo murmured.
“There is one other thing, though,” Dorian began. His expression turned frightfully serious, and even Augustine looked worried. “What’s this about Wulian scouts? Is King Victor planning to attack Branem? Are we about to go to war?”
Hugo opened his mouth to soothe his brother’s worries, but the words got stuck in his throat. He closed his mouth and swallowed hard before trying a second time. “Honestly, I don’t know. I don’t even know why there is so much animosity between our two kingdoms. However, Prince Everand made it sound as if King Hubert would do everything he could to avoid another war.” Hugo turned his attention to Augustine. “That being said, please be extra cautious when you go into the woods and with whom you speak. It’s likely the king’s men have driven out the scouts that captured us, but there’s always a chance they could return.”
Augustine winked and directed a jaunty salute at him. “Don’t worry. I’ll be careful.”
“Every time you tell me not to worry, all my worries double,” Hugo groaned.
Augustine hurried around the desk and draped an arm across his brother’s slumped shoulders. “That’s because you’re a grumpy old worrywart who takes pleasure in fussing about every little thing. You need to learn to have more fun. I think chasing after a prince will do you a lot of good.”
“What? What? No! I’m not chasing after anyone,” Hugo sputtered.
Augustine cackled and snatched up the pouch of money Hugo had made for their mother. He darted for the door, waving the jingling coins in the air. “I’ll be careful. Besides, I can’t spend these coins in the woods.”
Well, that was true at least.
“Chasing or not, I think you should try to go to the ball and see the prince. You were lucky enough to meet that gold-spinning elf once. Maybe luck will shine on you again and you can marry your prince,” Dorian teased, painting a very tantalizing picture.
Of course, the moment was ruined when his brother stuck out his hand and waggled his fingers. “Just a few coins, please. I would like to stop and get measured for a new pair of leather gloves before I go to work at the bookshop.”
Hugo tried to give his brother a dark look, but it didn’t last more than a moment. Of them all, Dorian was the most deserving of some spending money. He was the only one with an actual job.
“You know, if we’re careful, the money in this chest will more than cover our living expenses for a while. If you wanted to quit working at the bookshop, we can manage,” Hugo offered while counting out the same number of coins he’d pulled together for their mother’s pouch.
Dorian chortled. “Are you crazy? I’m working in a bookshop, taking care of and making beautiful books. Why would I ever want to leave that?”
A grin spread across Hugo’s lips as he dumped the pile of coins into his brother’s hand. Dorian had a point. He was doing what made him happiest. The aristocrats might turn their noses up at him, but Hugo wagered they weren’t half as happy as Dorian was.
“Plus,” Dorian smirked as he clutched the fistful of coins to his chest, “I’m very good at what I do. Even if I never marry, I don’t care. I have my books, and there are plenty of people in Branem who like my books. That’s enough.”
Hugo frowned at Dorian’s back as he strolled out of the study and shut the door behind him. It was wonderful that Dorian was so happy with his books, but the idea of his brother never marrying sliced deep into Hugo’s heart. Dorian was an even bigger romantic than Hugo. He was brilliant, funny, and so very kind. There had to be someone out there who could love a bookworm like him.
Maybe Ev knew of someone.
Fifteen
Hugo glared at the spinning wheel and the giant bundles of straw, the scent tickling his nose and nearly drawing out a sneeze. He heaved a heavy sigh and tried to ignore the way his heart skipped as the metal bolt slid home, locking him away. He should have known that returning to the palace was a mistake. The promise of seeing Prince Everand was a temptation he hadn’t been able to pass up, but he should have.
This time, he didn’t have the chance to see the queen. The moment he’d arrived at the palace, he’d been handed off to another squad of guards—though this group wasn’t as rough as the first set—and they’d escorted him to the same room he’d been locked in weeks ago. No chance to plead his case to the queen. No opportunity to explain that he couldn’t spin the straw into gold.