Page 78 of Disenchanted
Attempting to brush the dirt from his uniform, the prince scowled at her. A tense silence fell over the ballroom. Before Florian could say anything, Mercato thrust his way through the crowd, his wizard’s robes flapping. He was flanked by two burly palace Scutcheons.
Mercato pointed at Myrtle and bellowed, “Arrest that young woman!”
Myrtle’s eyes flew open, and she screamed as the two guards surged toward her. Seizing the girl by her arms, they gave her no chance to stand, dragging her across the floor.
“I say!” Fortescue sputtered.
Thrusting him out of the way, I rushed toward Mercato. “Please, stop. Myrtle meant no harm. She didn’t know about the new law. If I could but speak to the king, I—”
“The king has retired for the evening.” The wizard stared haughtily down the length of his long nose at me. “But I am sure His Majesty would agree with me that ignorance is no excuse. The law is the law, and you would do well to stay out of this.”
I turned from him to appeal to Prince Florian. “Your Highness, please.”
The prince waved me away with an irritated gesture. He was too absorbed in trying to bind back his hair to concern himself with Myrtle’s plight.
By this time, the guards had hauled her to her feet and the girl was sobbing. I looked desperately around for another source of royal help to contravene Mercato’s authority. But I had not seen Ryland since he fled from me. The tenderhearted Prince Kendrick might have been persuaded to intervene but there was no sign of him either or any of his brothers. I bit my lip in vexation. Earlier I had been practically tripping over unwanted princes. Now when I needed one, there was none to be found.
Then, better than any prince, I saw Commander Crushington forcing his way through the gawking crowd. I hurled myself at him, pressing my hands against his chest.
I have no idea how distraught I must have looked, but Horatio regarded me with alarm. His hands came up to cover mine. “Ella, what is going on? What’s wrong?”
“It’s Myrtle Hanson,” I gasped.“The foolish girl feigned a swoon in front of Prince Florian. She didn’t know about the new law and Mercato is having her arrested and it isn’t fair. Please, can you not do something?”
Even as I pleaded, I realized I was asking a great deal of Horatio. The commander had his strict code about upholding the king’s laws and I was begging him to set aside his duty. Horatio’s dark grey eyes looked deep into mine for a long moment. A troubled frown creased his brows as his gaze traveled from me toward Myrtle.
The guards would likely have already hauled the weeping girl away, but her sister was also wailing. Ivy clung to Myrtle, trying to yank her free from her captors. One of the guards shoved Ivy roughly to the floor.
I heard the sharp intake of Horatio’s breath. He set me aside and marched forward. “Stop! Release that girl at once.”
He did not shout. He did not have to. His voice carried a ring of authority that caused the entire room to snap to attention. Ashe helped Ivy to her feet, my heart swelled with such relief and pride in him, I could have kissed the man.
I was astonished when the guards did not instantly obey him. I certainly would have. They kept their grip on Myrtle, but they hesitated, looking uncertainly at Mercato.
The wizard flapped toward Horatio, shaking his finger at him. “This is a matter for the Royal Guard, Commander Crushington. It does not fall within your purview.”
“Respectfully, sir, I believe that it does.” Horatio accorded the king’s sorcerer a stiff bow. “Miss Hanson is from Midtown.”
“But she dared to commit her offense right here in His Majesty’s palace.”
Horatio stepped closer as he tried to reason with Mercato. Aside from the snuffling of the Hanson sisters, the entire room was silent, straining to hear and breathlessly awaiting the result of the commander’s bold intervention.
I inched as close as I dared. I could only pick up snippets of Horatio’s low, terse arguments.
“…girl made a mistake… her arrest bound to cause resentment. Surely the king would not wish… ball to be spoiled over such a trivial matter. If I could only speak to…”
Mercato locked his arms across his chest. He was frowning, but he was listening. I believed that Horatio might have prevailed. Unfortunately, word of what was going on must have spread to the farthest corners of the ballroom and reached the ears of Myrtle’s brothers.
The two Hanson boys burst through the crowd. Although they were known to be a bit rowdy, Payton and Toland were usually respectful of authority. But their flushed countenances suggested that they had consumed too much of the king’s cheap wine.
Toland’s voice was slurred as he yelled, “Get shur hands off my sishter, you bashtard!”
“Oh no,” I groaned as Payton, the hot-tempered Hanson brother tackled one of the guards. He wrestled the man to the floor. Toland took a wild swing at the second guard and missed. The Scutcheon let go of Myrtle and socked Toland in the jaw.
Myrtle shrieked. Mercato sputtered with outrage and Horatio swore. He dove at Payton and pulled him off the guard. He pinioned the young man’s arms. Toland, recovering from his blow, came at Horatio from behind.
I cried out a warning. I leapt forward and tried to grab Toland’s arm. He thrust me backward. As I staggered to keep my balance, Horatio released Payton. He felled Toland with one sharp jab.
I gasped as Horatio seized me by the waist and lifted me off my feet. He plunked me down a safe distance away and ordered, “Stay out of this, Ella.”
