EnglandxReader~Finding Face~Ch 1

Finding Face~Ch 1~

"Stop, thief!" a soldier yelled as you ran past the commoners knocking baskets and people out of the way as you struggled to maintain your distance.

Like hell, I'll stop! you screamed inside your head.

You were trying to make it to the end of the marketplace. That's where you would lose them because the alleys were so tight and the branches so numerous that the soldiers were sure to be confounded.

Sure enough, you slipped past a booth and turned a sharp corner pressing yourself against some boxes. You began to snicker once you saw the soldiers continue running down the alley. With your getaway as smooth as you had expected, you shined your apple and bit into it as you walked away from the scene.

You hadn't even taken your second bite when a foot tripped you as you were exiting the dark alley.

"Shit!" you cried out as you stumbled to the ground dropping your apple.

"Stealing again, ___________?" an all-too familiar voice observed.

"Dammit, Artie!" you spat some dust out of your mouth. "Why do you always get in the way?! You know how hard it was to steal that?!"

The blonde-haired, green-eyed soldier looked down at you as if in contempt. He pursed his lips as you cursed your ill luck.

"You shouldn't be stealing in the first place, ____________," he said lifting you up to your feet. "I shouldn't even be letting you off the hook like this."

"Then why don't you do your job?" you snorted pulling your hand away.

The soldier cracked a smile and scratched his messy blonde hair. "If I did, then this job would be completely boring," he answered.

"I'm sure you could've found a much better job than this one," you said, and you meant it.

Ever since Mr. Bushy Brows joined the ranks of street watch only two months ago, you had been reminded time after time of how skilled he was at his job. His deduction skills were spot-on, and his expertise in swordsmanship, archery, and close-combat fighting proved to be unmatched in his ranks. It came as a complete wonder that he wasn't appointed into the royal guard.

"I chose this job because any others involved having to stand around and do nothing but listen to boring political quarrels," Bushy Brows Artie explained.

He must be referring to the royal guard, you thought to yourself.

You didn't really desire any luxuries, but the thought of being paid much more while having to do less sounded enticing to even the simplest-minded commoner—or thief, as you were.

"If I make this job so entertaining, do you think you could let me go, again?" you grinned slyly.

Your temporary captor was about to open his mouth when someone interrupted him from behind.

"Artie, there you are!" a young man that looked slightly older than Bushy Brows said panting. You studied his attractive features: he had light blonde hair and glassy turquoise eyes.

"What is it, Dyl'?" the soldier asked the man.

"Mum and Da want you back at the—hold on. Who is this?"

Suddenly, your heart raced as you saw the man looking at you. Maybe it was because you had just lost your breakfast or maybe it was the fact that you suddenly realized the man was wearing oddly fancy garbs to be wandering around the marketplace, but whatever the reason was, you were beginning to feel edgy.

"This is ____________, my friend," Artie said.

"Oh, right, whatever," Mr. Sunshine Hair said dismissively. "Anyway, they said that you—wait a moment. Did you just say that this common street urchin is your friend?"

You frowned and threw Mr. Sunshine a dark glare.  You didn't like this guy already whoever the hell he was. What right did he have to say who you were friends with, or not? Okay, maybe it wasn't the best relationship to be having when one was a solider and the other a thief, but still…! How rude of him!

"You heard me right," Artie said. "You were saying?"

Sunshine Prissy Pants sighed and continued. "Mum and Da want you back at the castle. It has something to do with you-know-what."

Artie sighed. "That again? I told them I was happy here."

"Well, Mum and Da aren't," Prissy Pants said. "Now come with me before I get into trouble with Scottie and Cail'."

"Very well, but I'm bringing ____________ along."

Sunshine blinked. "Why would you bring her along?" he asked bewildered. You were bewildered, too.

"I cost ___________ her breakfast so the least I can do is compensate her," Artie answered.

"Artie, if Mum and Da find out you're taking an urchin in the castle, they'll give you a clouting."

"Fine by me," the soldier shrugged.

"Do I have a say in this?" you asked warily.

Prissy Pants looked at you as if you were mad. "No, you don't have a say in this. In case you didn't know, you are addressing royalty, and I expect you to treat us as such."

"'Us?'" you raised your eyebrows. "Don't you mean yourself?"

Sunshine rolled his eyes. "Typical urchins," he grumbled. "They don't have any respect or attention for the royals nowadays." He pointed to himself. "I'm Dylan Kirkland as in 'Dylan Kirkland, third in line to the Kirkland Throne?'"

Your mouth dropped open. No wonder those nicknames Dylan was using sounded so familiar! If this was "Dyl,'" then that meant that "Artie" was actually…

"…and this is Arthur, as in the fourth in line to the throne, but he's not important because he'll never get a chance at being king no matter how hard he tries."

"Shut it, Dyl'," Arti—no, wait—Arthur snapped.

"Now that that's all cleared up, why don't we head back to the castle before people start to get suspicious?" Dylan said looking over him at the curious commoners. "___________ can come along, too," he added.

-----

Stupid, stupid, stupid! you mentally shouted in your head.

How did you not see it before?! During some of the conversations about the Kirkland family you had picked up, you had heard about Arthur and how he was a black sheep among his siblings. You could see why: he was a prince—make that a Kirkland prince. It didn't matter that he was the fourth in line; what mattered was that he was out being a soldier and wasting his time with someone like you while he could be tucked comfortably up in his castle eating biscuits and drinking tea.

The Kirkland Castle was immense and elaborate on the inside as it was on the outside. Large colorful tapestries and flags displayed the pride and power that was the Kirkland family: a golden lion wearing a crown and carrying a sword.

Just looking at the high ceiling made you feel small and meek. It was truly a privilege to be able to so much as enter the palace let alone be invited to eat food served by the Kirklands—okay, one Kirkland.

"I'd say make yourself at home, but judging by your lack of refinement and rancid odor, I'd bet you don't even have one," Dylan remarked coldly.

God, how you wished you could strangle him! This stuck-up prick was Arti—gah!— Arthur's brother?! If you weren't hungry, you wouldn't have minded making a lunge at his throat. Instead, you gave him a false, sarcastic smile.

"Whether or not I have a home does not matter," you said, "but what does matter is that I am grateful that you have invited me here."

"I didn't," Dylan replied. "Artie did."

With that, he left the hall leaving you and Arthur alone.

"I'm sorry about that, ___________," the soldier, now prince, said sheepishly. "My brother can be a little cold at first, but he can be alright when he's not around my brothers or me."

"I find that hard to believe," you said doubtfully.

Arthur chuckled. "Well, it's the truth. Are you hungry?"

As if by cue, your stomach began to growl. You looked away embarrassed and nodded.

"I'll bring something from the kitchen then," Arthur said. "Wait in the grand hall for me, okay? It's just down over there. You can't miss it." He pointed to the end of the corridor.

You went to the grand hall where you assumed people ate in large numbers because of its vast size. With nothing better to do, you took a chair and sat patiently waiting for Arthur to return.

All the while, your mind was filled with so many questions and irksome thoughts: Why did Arthur become a soldier if he was really a prince? Why did he even bother hanging around you? Even when you had first met him, he was lenient on you—to an extent. And why was he—

"Rrrgh…! Stupid Artie! Why the bloody hell am I even here?!" you growled.

You were a thief, an orphan, the lowest form of life in the kingdom even considered below the servants because at least servants had a place they could return to every single day. You were always on the run, never knowing where you next meal would come from or when it would come. In other words, everything you did was purely just to survive.

"Did you say something, ____________?"

You jumped as you saw Arthur standing at the entrance holding a platter of different foods.

"Nothing," you grumbled.

Arthur raised one of his bushy eyebrows and walked over to set the platter down.

"This should be enough to repay you for all of those times I intervened in your thefts," he said.

"…Thanks, Arthur," you said grabbing a loaf of bread and wolfing it down.

"You don't have to call me Arthur," the young prince said. "I prefer you call me Artie. Even my brothers and the soldiers in my flank call me that."

You only grunted and continued to eat with your mouth already full of bread, a few grapes, and some cheese.

"Well, if you'll excuse me, I need to go see what my parents were calling me about," Arthur said. He left you to eat on your own.

You had eaten your full and decided that since there was plenty left over, you would just save it for later. As you were packing the food in your patched-up pockets, you heard voices coming into the hall. You thought to run, but then you heard another group of voices coming in from the other side.

Frantically, you scurried under the table after packing one last loaf of bread. You could tell by the clinking of chain mail and plates that those people were royal guards.

"Did you hear the family is going to make an alliance with the Edelsteins?" one of the guards said.

"Yeah. I heard that they were going to have one of the lesser princesses marry Arthur," another said.

"That makes sense. He's never going to get a chance at the throne with the way his family is running things so he might as well make himself useful."

"I really don't understand why he even bothers to keep that lowly job. His brother even said he could easily become a captain with his skills, but he declined."

"That boy works in mysterious ways…"

Your heart nearly lurched out of your chest when you saw the guards getting closer to the table to take their seats. You scurried further down the table hoping you wouldn't make too much noise, but the guards kept pouring into the hall, and you were going to be running out of space real soon.

As you reached the edge, you found yourself stuck between the exposed edge and the crammed legs of the guards. You decided that your best bet would be to wait for a chance to make a dash for the exit once everyone was seated.

When it looked like the guards were distracted, you made a break for it. You were just about to disappear from view when you suddenly bumped into an unsuspecting guard as he turned the corner.

"Eek!" you cried.

The guard watched as the food you were carrying went flying and spilled on the floor.

"WE HAVE A THIEF HERE!!" the guard roared.

You suddenly found yourself being pursued by the entire hall of guards. Your heart was pounding into your throat, and you could feel the blood rush to your temples as you began to desperately look for a way out of the castle.

--Arthur's POV--

"THERE'S A THIEF IN THE CASTLE!!" one of the guards cried.

"Your 'friend,' perhaps?" Dylan sneered at his younger brother.

"What's this all about now?" Allistor asked quizzically.

"I want to see," Cailean said.

"Bloody hell, ___________..." Arthur groaned under his breath and broke from his brothers and parents. His parents called him to come back, but his brothers followed him much to his annoyance.

--Reader's POV--

You were headed for the doorway when you found that the guards had already blocked it. Cursing your bad luck, you ran deep into the halls with the guards hot on your backs. You didn't know the inner layout of the castle so your only chance at escaping was either to run or hide.

Looking around, you turned a sharp corner and continued down the corridor. You heard the footsteps and voices of the guards fading as you took a moment to catch your breath. Now how were you supposed to get out?

Not wanting to go back the other way, you continued going down the corridor. Much to your misfortune, you heard voices coming again. You quickened your pace and stopped in horror as you came face to face with a solid wall.

"No! No!" you cried pounding at the wall in your frustration.

So this is how your meaningless life was going to end: killed after being accused of thievery even though you weren't stealing this time.

Suddenly, as you were hitting the wall, your fist struck a brick that sank inside the solid edifice. You let out a small scream as the wall began to turn dragging you on the other side.

A secret passage, you thought gratefully. Now to see where it leads.

You heard the guards on the other side groan and head in the other direction. So they didn't now this was here, either.

As you continued going up the stairs that were in the passage, you thought you heard a scream and some shuffling going on. Curious, you began to increase your pacing to see if you could catch what was going on.

You finally came across the exit. The noises stopped so you decided it was safe to open the heavy-looking door. After struggling, you were able to heave it open.

When you stepped outside, you gasped in shock as you saw a pool of blood and three fallen bodies with one of them being a guard. Judging by the other two's clothes, you could tell they must have been either very wealthy or royalty.

The murderer was still here. He was standing over one of the bodies, the body of the guard. He had a large dagger in his hand, and he wasn't about to let you escape alive.

You moved out of the way just in time to see the blade swing down at you cutting some of your hair. You began to head back for the passage, but the murderer obstructed your path by leaping in front of you. Making a low grunt, he grabbed you and pulled the dagger to your throat. You brought your hands up to his as the he struggled to inch the blade closer to your neck.

Suddenly, you heard voices growing louder as they got closer to the hall. You thought if you could hold the murderer long enough, the guards would be able to apprehend him.

But then, unexpectedly, the murderer moved his dagger away and plunged it into his own neck killing him. He had committed suicide.

"Oh no…" you croaked as the lifeless body brought you down. The guards had made their way into the room as you were getting the body off of you carefully removing the knife from your neck.

"What the bloody hell—!"

You turned around to see that the guards had poured inside the room. You froze as the color drained from their faces.

"Murderer!" they cried. "Assassin!"

"I'm not a killer!" you protested, but before you could react, they grabbed you and restrained you to the floor.

You screamed and thrashed trying to break free. Your stomach did turns when you saw Arthur push his way through the guards, his brilliant blonde hair and discerning eyebrows making him stand out over their metal and mail.

"Artie," you began, "I—"

But you never got to finish because something hard struck the side of your head making you black out.

-----

You woke up in a cell. It was cold and dark. Somewhere you could hear the faint dripping of water probably from the moat that was now above you. You shivered. Even though you were used to environments such as this one, you couldn't shake off the feeling that something horrible was going to happen to you.

You were looking for a way out when you heard the clopping of footsteps getting nearer and nearer. You saw Arthur, Dylan, a young man with strawberry blonde hair and light green eyes, and another slightly older man with fiery red hair and green eyes similar to Arthur's and Dylan's.

"So this is the little murderer?" the strawberry blonde asked leaning closer to the bars to get a closer look.

"Aye, that's what they said, anyway," the redhead said with a tone of disgust in his voice.

Dylan turned sharply to his younger brother. "See, Artie? I knew nothing good would come out of befriending a thief—and what do you know? She turns out to be a bloodthirsty killer!"

"Shut it, Dyl'" Arthur said in a low voice.

"You have no right to talk to me or anyone like that now," Dylan said with anger rising in his temper. "Thanks to you, Mum and Da are—"

"What?" you blurted out.

All four heads turned and looked over you. Three of them wore dark expressions clearly visible on their faces. Arthur looked at you with a pained look in his eyes.

The redhead spoke. "You mean ye didn't know?" he growled. "Yer stupid enough not to know that you killed two of our best guards? And what's even worse you—"

"One of them wasn't a guard!" you yelled. "He was the—"

"YOU WILL NOT INTERRUPT THE KING WHEN HE IS SPEAKING!!!" the redhead shouted at the top of his lungs.

Your eyes grew wide with confusion and fear.

"King?" you barely managed to say. "But you aren't the king!"

Even you weren't stupid enough to not know that the king had blonde hair like Arthur.

"He is now," the dusty blonde said. "No thanks to you."

You began to choke. "You mean those two other bodies…"

Arthur strained to breathe and looked at you with his piercing green eyes.

"Those other victims happened to be our mum and da."