The Commander steps away without another glance back, his hands crossed behind his back and his head held high. The crowd watches his every step, glancing between him and Emily, their collective breath held as they wait to see if anything else happens.

  The Commander reaches the line of people, stopping his step before staring at the crowd in front of him, his head swiveling from left to right as he assesses each person within. They shrink back from his gaze, suddenly finding more interesting things to look at.

  “Show’s over. Back to what you were doing.”

  He continues walking, the crowd parting before him like minnows before a shark, disappearing out of sight in a few efficient steps. People start murmuring amongst themselves as he passes, scattering in groups or alone, the excitement already over and the event already becoming gossip that’ll spread throughout the camp in no time.

  The Squire watches for a moment longer, ensuring that the Commander is truly gone, before he looks down at the shorter Archmage in front of him, letting out a relieved sigh.

  “Man… That was terrifying. I thought for sure he was going to have my ass for this.”

  Emily glances at the squire, seeing right through him as the blood pounding in her ears calms down, amazed that she managed to get out of that situation with nothing more than what seems to be a slap on the wrist. He smiles down at her for a moment longer, before his face turns pale and his eyes widen.

  “S-Sorry, Archmage!”

  He takes a clumsy bow that almost smacks Emily in the forehead on the way down.

  “I didn’t mean to speak so disrespectfully in front of you…”

  Emily shakes her head, snapping out of the temporary daze that befell her. She glances down at the back of the Squire’s head, finding a stick lodged into his blonde curls.

  “It’s just you… You kind of look my age.”

  Emily keeps staring at the stick and holds back the urge to pull it out, wondering how the hell he could just… Leave it in there and not notice it at all. I mean, sure, they’re in a forest and sticks and leaves fall down from the canopy all the time. But it’s in his hair. Is he just not very observant?

  The squire scratches his head awkwardly, his fingers just barely missing the stick, the prolonged silence from the Archmage getting to him.

  “I’m still in the middle of my etiquette training, so uh… I don’t know what I’m normally supposed to say. Can I… Stand up now?”

  She runs her fingers through her hair as she contemplates the stick further, until her fingers get stuck fast against something sharp and hard. She pulls the strand away from her head in surprise and brings it in front of her face, her eyes taking a moment to adjust.

  Stuck tight within her own hair is a brown stick just like the Scribe’s, her hair wrapped tight around it and secured with a knot.

  Emily lets out a small chuckle as she tugs the stick free, breaking the knot as she does so.

  “That's all right, you can stand. I also haven't finished my etiquette training… So please, excuse me if I do anything that seems strange.”

  The boy straightens his back once again, smiling pleasantly down at Emily.

  “That's alright. My ma said that I'm quite strange myself.”

  He holds out his hand for Emily to shake, His palms riddled with calluses and old scars. “My name's Bill, like the part of the duck. No last name. I haven't earned one yet.”

  He glances down at his own hand and pulls it back quickly, a sheepish look on his face. He gives Emily another hurried bow, before remembering that she asked him not to and straightens up again. “And your name, ma'am?”

  Emily racks her mind, trying to think up a suitable name. She's never even met a noble before in her life, before Sir Barrion. What kind of names do they even have? Something fancy? Are they all made up? Or are they related to their profession, like Emily's?

  This text was taken from Royal Road. Help the author by reading the original version there.

  Bill's eyebrow raises higher and higher as Emily contemplates this dilemma, making her feel more and more nervous as her brain continuously draws a blank.

  Deciding that she spent a suspiciously long time contemplating this already, she decides to just trust her guts and go with the first thing that comes to mind. Trying to seem haughty and important, she flicks her hair, which whips around her shoulder and smacks her on the other side of her face. Trying not to sputter as the strands stick in her mouth, she looks down her nose at Bill, hoping that he doesn't see the blush creeping up her face.

  “You may call me Emily.” She says, as internally, she screams. Why the hell did she use her real name?!

  “Just Emily, ma’am?” He asks, his brows raised questioningly.

  “That's right. Just Emily.” Quietly, almost under her breath, she adds: “ I'm… I'm undercover.”

  Emily feels her face start fuming, as she turns her face away from Bill, the blush fully taking over and turning her face a crimson red. What lame noble says that they're undercover? Why did she even say that?! He's going to think she's so lame, now. Maybe it'd be better if she just gave herself up now, let them throw her in the interrogation room so they can torture her for information. It’d probably be less painful than the embarrassment she feels right now.

  She risks a glance at Bill, curiosity at his reaction overcoming her embarrassment, and is surprised to see that he is staring at her in absolute rapture, His mouth hanging open wide enough to catch flies. He snaps his mouth shut, glancing from side to side conspiratorially before leaning in towards Emily.

  “You're an undercover noble?!” he whispers loudly, the pure excitement and Glee in his voice easing Emily's embarrassment just a little bit.

  “That's... that's right. I am.”

  “That is so cool.” Bill says. He leans in closer to Emily, cupping a hand to his mouth conspiratorially. “Are you on a secret mission?”

  Emily tries to put on her haughtiest face once again, amazed that this is somehow working and determined not to screw it up again.

  “Sure, you could call it that. So, I'll need you to help me out as best you can, you got that Bill?”

  Bill snaps Emily a crisp salute, determination burning in his eyes.

  "You've got it, ma'am. I'll do my best to serve you. At least, until my knight gets here.”

  “That will do just fine. Now, I believe you're supposed to be getting me situated?”

  Bill halts his salute, taking the rope around Blue's neck in hand and giving it a tug. The ostrich rises on unsteady legs and stands there waiting, much to Emily's surprise.

  “That's right, ma'am. Let me find out what tent will be assigned to you and take care of this girl right here.”

  He steps up closer to Blue, looking up at the ostrich with wonder as he runs his fingers through their feathers.

  “I've never seen an ostrich like this before. she's so… Fluffy."

  He glances down at her feet, his eyes wide.

  "And I ain't ever seen talons that sharp before on them. Is it a war ostrich?”

  Emily shrugs. “I don't know, It's the only ostrich I've ever had. Maybe he’s just special?

  She raises an eyebrow at Bill.

  "Also, he's a boy.”

  Bill looks up at Blue questioningly, his eyes roving over the ostrich. He looks back at Emily, confusion on his face.

  “Are you sure?”

  Emily crosses her arms. “Of course I'm sure, clearly he's a boy.”

  Bill shrugs, unconcerned. “ All right. You know best, ma'am.”

  He gives the rope a sharp tug and Blue turns towards his direction, taking an unsteady step towards Bill.

  “Well, we best be off, The sooner I get your boy Blue In the paddocks, the sooner I can get him fed and cleaned.”

  He taps the side of blue affectionately, a cloud of dust billowing off from the ostrich's feathers. “I'll have him shining before sundown.”

  Emily takes a step, then hisses, the still bleeding wounds in her side burning from the movement. Bill takes a step closer to her, inspecting her ribs with a critical eye before letting out a hiss of sympathy. He glances at Blue’s forearms and the wickedly sharp claws attached to them, still stained red from Emily's blood.

  “How about we take a trip to the medical tent first and get those checked up?”

  Emily nods her head as she clutches at her side, clenching her teeth against the pain.

  “That would be great, thanks. Medical tent first, literally everything else second.”

  “All right, just follow me ma'am, we’ll get you sorted out in no time.”

  Bill glances back up at Blue, reassessing the ostrich from head to toe, taking careful notes of the wickedly sharp claws adorning the tip of each digit, each one curved and designed for optimal tearing and ripping, each one honed to take a life.

  Shaking his head, He turns back around, giving the rope another tug in order to get Blue moving.

  “I've sure as hell never seen an ostrich like this before…”