Escape: A Royal Tom Holland Romance

Pie

Tom hadn't slept a wink, so once dawn broke with its bright golden colors seeping through his window, he rose and dressed. He tried his best to look lower class, neglecting to comb his hair as nicely as he normally would and dressing in his more used riding clothes. One of his shirts was littered with grass stains, much to his delight. His mother would never approve of him wearing it out, but how was she to know? He would ride to the cottage, arriving still early in the morning and be home before midday. He still massaged some oils into his skin, wanting to smell nice for Beth. He was careful not to overdo it, for fear she might question his class. The last thing he needed was to be found out.

He gathered all he needed into a satchel, running by the kitchen to snag and apple or two. He then made his way to the stables, hoping to make his way out without anyone important noticing. He wasn't as lucky as he would've hoped.

"And where are we off to so early, Prince Tom?" Harrison asked, ever so cheekily, pleased to see Tom jump.

"A ride, Harrison."

"Where?"

"I don't have to tell you, Haz."

"You forget I'm Captain of the Guard. If you don't tell me where you're going I'm forced to go with you. And it would seem, by your lovely disgruntled disposition, that you don't want my company."

"Ugh, I'm going to the wood and back, alright?" Tom rubbed his forehead, wishing he hadn't given a real indication of where he was going. Harrison could easily track him if he had to.

"Alright, mate. Go on. Don't be too long." Harrison said, continuing to groom his horse, his pride and joy.

Tom galloped off, finally feeling free with the wind whipping through his curls. He weaved his way through the wood, carefully taking note of the path. He smiled fondly at his trail of pebbles he had left the other night, reminiscing on how lost he felt then. He was now sure of his way, which comforted him. At least he was certain of something.

His heart raced as the trees began to thin out as he neared the clearing, the cottage in sight. Daylight brightened up the place even more, and the animals were lively. The windows on the cottage were open and the lace curtains pulled back. On the windowsill sat a luscious, golden pie, still hot and steaming. The laundry blew blissfully in the breeze and the warm sunshine hugged his skin, welcoming him. He leaped off his horse and led the regal steed to the stable. After tying it, he proceeded to the window, giving it a light tippity tap before peering inside. There she was, leaning over the counter, kneading the dough for another pie.

"Back so soon?" She blushed.

He tilted his head slightly leaning into the sill, his eyes gleaming. "How could I stay away? Especially when you can smell these pies from a mile away."

"Come in."

He quickly made his way around to the door, and she met him there. He smiled, noticing the light streaks of flour on her face. He brushed some off her cheek, much to her embarrassment. "Hard at work, I see."

"Always." She retreated back into the kitchen, trying to distract herself from his charm.

"What's the occasion?"

"One is for my brother and his wife, and the other, well, it's for me." She smirked.

"Now, the real question is whether you decided to make a pie for your brother and didn't want to be left out, or you made a pie for yourself and figured you should be polite." He laughed heartily at her feigned offense. She flicked some flour into his face, catching him off guard. He silently challenged her to a duel with wooden spoons, which took them all over the house, ending in a fit of laughter on the bed.