Mathieu (White Flame Trilogy) - By Paula Flumerfelt Page 0,16

something more productive that bothering innocent bystanders in the street? Yes.” Where that had come from, he wasn’t sure. Probably a rub off of all of Rebekah’s story telling and history lessons; he was pretty sure the woman would have been proud of him.

Jaken was behind him before he even finished speaking, grabbing his roughly by the hair and throwing him to the floor. “You will not speak to our king in that manner.”

Sitting up, Mathieu sighed. “Thank you for proving my point. This is stupid. I won’t be treated this way and I won’t stay here another minute.” Getting to his feet, he retrieved the few things that had spilled out of his bag. “Later.” Kings be damned. As he stood to huff angrily away, the blond man had descended the stairs and was standing just beside him.

“So you finish a fight, claim you don’t start them, and yet I just witnessed your tongue instigating.”

“I don’t have to explain myself to you.” He stood to his full height, as little as it was: around five feet and six inches. It wasn’t much, but he narrowed his eyes too, looking up at the man. “Not to you or your little puppets. I’m going home.” With that, he turned on his heel and marched in the direction of the exit. His footfalls echoed through the room ominously.

“Wait.” The king’s voice wasn’t harsh, more like a plea, calling after him.

Biting his tongue, he turned to the man. “What?” He snapped at the man, hands balled into fists. He was nearing the end of his rope.

“Come sit with me for a moment. I believe we should talk.” The King stood with his body neutral, looking at the Mathieu with a calm, level look. For the first time since getting off the bus, someone was looking at him like he was an equal.

Still, it wasn’t enough for him to return to the arms reach of Jaken. “I don’t think so.”

“I would appreciate it.” The way the King was looking at Mathieu left no room for argument, unlike before.

Swearing under his breath, he followed the King to a sitting room off the throne chambers. Jaken followed them in, standing guard by the door. The officer’s presence made him nervous. “What do you want to talk about?”

“It seems we are both busy people, so I won’t bother with pleasantries. Jaken says you injured two of my men. Quite a feat.” The King sat regally even in an armchair, studying Mathieu.

“And why is that?” He dropped heavily into his own chair, arms crossed over his chest.

Jaken laughed. “Officers are the most well-trained, well-discipled force out there. They’re tested and trained rigorously until they are weapons unto themselves.” He said, a note of pride in his voice.

Now it was his turn to laugh. “Really? Cause I kicked two of their worthless hides in one day. Oh, and I gave them the slip.”

The king laughed softly under his breath at the exchange before drawing Mathieu’s attention back to their conversation. “Have you ever lost a fight?”

“Once or twice when I was younger, but not in a few years.” He leaned back and pulled his bag into his lap. It wasn’t much, but it gave him some sort of barrier against the man’s piercing stare.

“Well isn’t that interesting…” The King tapped his chin with his fingertips. “Are you in the market for a job?”

“A job?”

“Yes. If you’re as good as you claim you are, you’d be ideal to protect my daughter. You could attend functions with her under the guise of being female, while still being crafty enough to protect her.” The King explained rather blandly.

“Uh-huh…” Mathieu said, waiting for the man to continue.

“My daughter is my whole world, and if anything were to happen to her…“ he cleared his throat, “so tell me, would you be interested in the job of protecting my daughter?”

Excitement coursed through Mathieu, but he had to play it cool. Be confident. “I don’t think I’d be interested. It sounds inconvenient.”

The king frowned. “How would that be?”

“Because I’d have to travel to her every day, protect her from unidentified dangers, and deal with a person that for all I know is a twit. And it just sounds like a big hassle brought upon by the pointless worries of an overprotective father.” Mathieu made a show of yawning, hoping he hadn’t pushed too far.

Laughing, the King slapped the table. “You’re probably right about the overprotective part, but that doesn’t change my desire to have someone protect