Loving a Prince Charming - By Danielle Monsch Page 0,35

up her pace over the well-worn path through the forest. To show weakness was to invite further idiocy.

If boys could somehow be locked away between the ages of twelve and twenty, life would be easier.

These two boys were both sixteen, and while they weren’t overt and vile in their nastiness, neither would they allow a chance at an easy target pass them by. “I don’t think rodents understand how we talk,” said Jonan, the one who started it all. The son of the local butcher, he was as flat-faced and flat-headed as his father, with wits to match.

“I agree, mate. That’s why we have rat traps. We make rats do what we want.” That was Nathaniel, nastier overall than his dim-witted friend, due to his greater intelligence and higher social standing thanks to his father’s position on the village council.

Perhaps a direct confrontation might make them give up their campaign of harassment. “Boys, you should get back to the village. I know your parents would not be pleased to see you this far out.”

Or perhaps she was being wishful in her thinking, because without a moment’s hesitation, Nathaniel replied, “What would you know about our parents other than what to serve them? Besides, we’re hungry. Why don’t you share what’s in your basket with us?”

“Yeah, before we decide to take it,” Jonan added.

After committing himself with those words he puffed out his chest and straightened his back, bringing himself to full height and breadth. Only sixteen, but he was well on his way to being one of the largest men in the village.

Acid rose to the back of her throat as tendrils of ice snaked up her spine. The instinctive step back was already completed before the reminder to not show weakness echoed through her head. Twin smiles of new sneering malevolence broke over both their faces and transformed their countenances from naughty children to something hard and cruel and eager to hurt.

They took a step forward. With their entire focus on her, they never sensed the tall, hulking figure that appeared behind them. Within seconds, both boys were hauled up and dangled several feet in the air.

Relieved giddiness coursed through her. A smile she could not prevent – and didn’t want to – spread across her face. “Benton,” she said, the word a mere whisper of sound.

“They were bothering you?” Benton’s voice was a thunderclap, deep and rough, not heard often and invoking a primal fear when it was.

The boys cringed and remained silent. Neither their fathers’ influence nor their own strength could help them here, and like bullies everywhere, they only wanted to fight when their prey was weaker than they were.

Nissa laughed at the sight, her earlier panic almost embarrassing when faced with the now cowed figures. “No, they were just being boys, testing limits like boys do.”

Benton’s thin lips tightened. He seemed to be fighting some inner battle over whether to accept her words or continue on with the boys in ways that would undoubtedly give them nightmares.

Finally he leaned over and whispered into Nathaniel’s ear. Nissa couldn’t hear the words, but Nathaniel went ghost-white and his eyes took up half his face by the time Benton pulled away. Benton finished with, “Understand?”

Nathaniel nodded, the movements large and exaggerated.

Benton dropped them both. The boys collapsed onto the ground. “Make your friend understand. Go home.”

Both ran without looking back.

Nissa crossed her arms over her chest, though she knew the effect she was going for was ruined since she couldn’t shake the smile from her lips. Still, she had to try. “Benton, it wasn’t necessary to scare them.”

“Be glad all I did was scare them.” He took the basket from her before he resumed his way along the path towards his cabin. With a sigh of exasperation – more affectation than true feelings – she followed him.

Their journey was silent, a normal occurrence since Benton was not the most talkative of men. Monks who had taken vows could be said to be more loquacious. It didn’t bother her, not when the silence was threaded with warm and protective overtones, his caring and friendship palpable in the currents of the air.

Besides, it meant she was free to ogle him to her heart’s content. Benton was currently shirtless, and a shirtless Benton was one of her favorite sights in this world.

There were some in the village who would disagree with her, those who were concerned only with looks. Beast. That was his nickname in the village, though no one ever