Mathieu (White Flame Trilogy) - By Paula Flumerfelt Page 0,18

it, Narrie.”

Mathieu rolled his eyes. “I’m not a creeper. My name is Mathieu. The King hired me to protect his daughter.”

“Mathieu, you say? I’m Narrie.” Narrie was a tall, well-endowed woman. Her hair was cut into a short bob and her dark eyes flashed with good humor. “You sure have a task ahead of you.”

Avian was stretched out on her stomach, feet in the air, glasses balanced precariously on her nose, and reading a magazine.

“Yes, I suppose I do. I’ve got a q--” Mathieu started.

“Listen, knave,” Avian hadn’t moved, but her voice had become low, “you are my servant. You do what I say. You won’t step out of line, lest I be forced to punish you. Father says you’re to protect me. Fine. Just stay out of my way. I am your Princess, and you will love me. I’ll love you too.” She didn’t look at him at all while she spoke.

“Oh…kay…?”

“You will sleep through that door.” She pointed to a door just to the left of her bed. “Narrie sleeps through that door,” she pointed to the door on the right of the bed, “and I sleep here. If you need anything, ask her. But don’t get in her way. We have a schedule that must be kept.” Avian ended in a matter of fact way.

Mathieu was staring at the girl on the bed. “How old are you?”

Narrie folded a shirt as she answered the question that was clearly meant for Avian. “That’s a rude question to ask a lady. She’s nineteen. I’m twenty-two. And you’re how old if we’re going to ignore social convention?”

“…Seventeen…” Mathieu said, scratching the back of his head in a sheepish manner.

“Look at the baby!” Narrie grinned and carried the laundry to the dresser, stowing it away. “Now, it’s my job to make sure that everything is running smoothly. This means that if I tell you to jump, you jump and ask to where.”

Mathieu crossed the arms over his chest, raising an eyebrow. “Oh, really?” These bossy women were kind of annoying him now.

“Yes. Really. You will rise promptly at 6 a.m. and will be ready to work by 6:45. You will be fed at exactly 6:45, not a moment later. If you aren’t there, you do without. Avian starts class at 7:15, which you will accompany her to, then you will escort her to her fencing lesson at 11. She has lunch at 11:30, which concludes at noon. You have the half hour off, then you report back to take her to her study period and the rest of her lessons. They start at 12:15 and finish at 4.” Narrie recited as if from a script.

“Oh, goodie.” That seemed like a lot to remember. He hoped he just had to follow the girl. That part would be easy enough.

Narrie smiled. “She has free time for two hours, then dines with her parents. You’ll have that time off to eat, just over an hour, and then you will escort her to the gardens where she relaxes until 10. Bring her back up here and you are free for the night. This is the schedule for five days of the week. The weekends are her free time and you will be at her beck and call to take her anywhere she’d like to go other than this room.”

“So, otherwise, my freedom is gone and I’m on a schedule. Wonderful.” Wrinkling his nose, he sat in a nearby chair with his arms folded. This new job felt like entrapment to him.

“Exactly. I’m glad you understand.” Narrie replied blandly and disappeared into her room.

Avian had turned and was sitting up now, watching him, feet crossed at the ankles. “Aren’t you an interesting creature? Your eyes are purple, and your hair is white. You’re not a Unithian, are you?”

“I don’t--”

“You aren’t.” Avian steamrolled over his feeble denial. “Narrie isn’t either. I know one when I see one. You’re one of the others…from Korinth. Are your parents like you?”

“I don’t have parents.” Mathieu said coolly, looked out the window. He was only able to see the tops of some trees from his vantage point.

The girl cleared her throat awkwardly. “Oh. I didn’t know.”

“You didn’t ask.” He looked around, taking in the room. At the far end was a simple fireplace and two arm chairs facing it, as well as a large rug. The walls were an off white, and the floor a reddish stone. Two different tables were in the room, the small circular one he sat at,