The Dragon Princess by Paris Hansch

Author:Paris Hansch [Hansch, Paris]
Language: eng
Format: epub
ISBN: 9781925981032
Publisher: Origin Publications
Published: 2020-04-04T16:00:00+00:00

16

Chapter Sixteen

Anton

Anton yelped as the hot iron nipped his finger. He let it crash to the floor, narrowly missing his foot. This was ridiculous. Running around like a servant all day had been exhausting. Even with the other soldiers subjected to the same fate, it seemed like the work only continued to pile up, despite their best efforts. He hadn’t realized just how much went into keeping the castle running.

Vivian clicked her tongue at him. “Come now, Milord. It’s going to go cold before you’ve done a single pair.” He suspected that she secretly enjoyed the power that she had over him as his teacher.

Anton sighed, picking up the iron again. Of all the things, too, she’d had him ironing women’s undergarments, frills and all. No one was ever going to see them; why should it matter whether there were wrinkles or not?

“Isn’t there something more useful we could be doing?”

In just two days, that girl had turned the entire castle upside down, halting their war preparations and forcing them to work together. There were several more intruders in the castle now, as well, and he had no doubt that the girl’s friends were going to be just as much trouble as she was.

“Just going on the princess’ orders, Milord. Don’t you want your sister to have nicely pressed delicates?”

Anton gagged, taking a step back. No wonder they were adorned with little bows. A servant wouldn’t keep things like this. Beside them, Ban laughed, his dimples in full view.

“It’s not that bad.”

Anton shot him a glare. Ban had ended up following them around the entire day, all because that other servant girl, Jane, was too meek to be away from Vivian, the head matron. How someone as passive as her had survived under Vivian’s hand, he couldn’t fathom.

“That’s because you’re not ironing…this.” He gestured in front of him, unable to make the words come out of his mouth.

Ban winked, and his smirk remained plastered to his face. He’d always been easygoing like that, nothing ever bothered him.

“Want to switch?” Ban asked, nodding to the shirt in his hands.

Anton made a show of turning his back, finishing the job as quickly as possible; there was no way that he would let Ban get his hands on anything of his sister’s. Not that he cared if he touched anything of hers, but the idiot would likely never shut up about it.

“It—it goes like this,” said Jane, adjusting the cloth.

Ban patted her hand, tucking his hair behind one ear. “Don’t worry, darling. I’ve got this.”

Anton put the iron down. That was it. “Don’t you ever take anything seriously?”

Ban moved to the side, showing him his neatly folded stack of ironed clothes. “Well, while you’ve been whining, I’ve been working.”

Anton bristled, forcing himself not to glance at his own meager pile of one garment.

“I’m only complaining because this entire thing is a ridiculous waste of time. The Lanadese are probably sharpening their axes, getting ready to murder us all, and here we are, folding silk delicates and scrubbing the floors.

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