Prologue

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As if the threat of a thunderstorm looming on the horizon wasn't bad enough, Harper found himself shoved up against the wall of an abandoned house within the slums of the city as the encroaching warning to an abysmal evening boomed overhead. 

"You blasted thief! Give back the coins you stole from our master!" The lad in front of him yelled as he held Harper against the home by his neck. He could have broken away quite easily, as the boy seemed more focused on being loud, than actually holding him with any real strength, but Harper knew that the two others he'd brought along with him would gladly tackle him to the ground if he dared try to escape. 

When the boy, whose name Harper recalled as something close to Gregory or Georgie, finally stopped baying like a hound in heat, Harper shrugged his shoulders and gave him a half-smile. "I do apologize, but I was starving, and as your master is clearly three times my size in spare girth alone, I figured that he could spare a few coins to provide a starving boy with some food." 

The three lads seemed to get even more upset at his words, which was nothing new to Harper. He tended to have quite the tongue on him, or so he'd been told. 

"Listen here, you girly-boy." Always picking on the few small braids in my hair. Harper mused as he was hoisted off his feet, now quite uncomfortable due to his air being slowly cut off. "You will return those coins to me right this moment or I will drag you to the magistrate for theft and laugh quite gleefully as they remove your hands for the offense!" 

Seeing his chance for escape slipping away breath by breath, Harper decided that he had to act at that moment. He quite preferred having two hands, and didn't intend to lose either. Especially not because he'd taken a fat globs three bronze pieces. They had barely been enough to feed him for four days, sparingly. 

Pursing his dry lips, Harper pushed against the house behind him and shoved his feet forward. His kick caught the boy off guard, which was no surprise. Just because you got lucky and found a job with a snobby rich man, doesn't mean that you are any better than me. He thought as he was dropped to the ground. 

In an instant, he saw the boy's two friends lunge for him. Harper hurriedly snatched up his worn gray cap, which had fallen from his head when he'd first hit the wall, and shoved it down onto his messy black hair as he darted off into the bustling street.  

Except, that the street wasn't quite as bustling as it had been moments earlier. There were still a lot of people, but they had all split to either side of the dusty path, leaving a large gap right in the middle where Harper had stopped. 

What's going on? 

The sudden sound of a man yelling broke through Harper's confusion, bringing his attention to the coach that had just been forced to halt because of him. The extremely well groomed white horses that were hitched to it, and their adornments, told him enough about the wealth of their owner. 

Another greedy lord or lady come to flaunt their wealth. 

The driver of the animals yelled again, drawing Harper's gaze up to him. 

"Move yourself, boy! You're in the way." 

The man was clean shaven and dressed well, but he still had a grimy look to him that Harper couldn't explain. Like a beautiful venomous snake waiting patiently in the grass for someone to make the mistake of stepping upon it. 

Tugging his cap down a little further, Harper turned toward the horses, eyeing the pristine white coach they were pulling. Whoever was inside would likely have plenty of money on them, but the risk of being shot was far too high to make the theft worthwhile. 

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