His Lordship in Exile: A Space Opera Epic (Twilight of the Godchosen Book 2) by TS Snow

Author:TS Snow [Snow, TS]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Published: 2022-01-03T16:00:00+00:00

CHAPTER 18

The Working Wall’s screen was empty, devoid of either open positions or requests for resumes. Even if someone was accepting the latter, Aric wondered what the reaction to a work summary including the diverse occupations Tosshouse doorman…Shepherd…Heir to an Empire…would be. He’d probably be labeled a liar.

As it was, it seemed all the employers in Bel-Ammon were satisfied with their workers or were so solvent they wanted no extras and no one in the city needed a job.

“…except me.” Aric’s sigh was deep with regret as well as exhaustion.

Something struck his shoulder. A wet trickle slid down his arm. Then another and another…

Oh damn.

It began to rain.

It was early in the monsoon season but that didn’t mean the rain couldn’t turn into one of the minor floods usually engulfing the city during that time.

Sure enough, there was a momentary lull in the falling drops, then it was as if someone poured a bucket of water over him. Water gushed from the sky, falling so hard and fast he was nearly knocked off his feet.

Immediately Aric was soaked. Across from the Wall, a shop front had a projecting awning offering protection. He’d barely gotten under, leaning against the store front out of the rain when the door to the shop swung open.

“Here you…get away.” It was the owner, brandishing a small businessman’s baton. “If my customers see an Exile hanging about, they won’t come in.”

“But it’s raining…”

“That’s not my fault. It’s the monsoon season.” He jerked the baton, pointing to the now-flooded street. “Go before I call the garda.”

Reluctantly, Aric obeyed.

By now the rain was coming down so thick and fast the gutters were filled, disgorging water back into the street where it began rising. It was up to his ankles, making it difficult to walk. He slogged through, moving slowly to keep from losing his balance as the stream became a river, flowing swiftly down the street. It reached curb-height, overflowed and covered the walkway.

Ahead, a building with long windows, their sills projecting outward, offered scant protection. Under the nearest was a small window well. It was a temptation to drawl into it but it was already half-filled with water and he was certain if he got in, he’d be unable to get out and might drown if the well completely filled as it looked to be doing. The next window merely hung over the street.

With a quick look around assuring himself no one was about, Aric huddled under it.

Once out of the rain, his wet garments brought an immediate chill sending him shivering. Slinging his kit over his shoulder, he wrapped his arms around his chest.

“I’ve had a hell of a time finding you.”

He whirled, sending water splashing. It spattered the man standing behind him. The falling water had covered the sound of the coach landing at the curb, as well as his wading toward Aric.

“Prince Arimen? What are you doing here?

“Didn’t I say I was looking for you? Pay attention, Exile.” Standing in the downpour somewhat diminished the Prince’s usual good disposition, though he was far from wet.

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