Free Curse of the Forbidden Book by Amy Lynn Green Page B

when Jesse was seven years old, a traveling carnival had come to Mir. He remembered being fascinated by the colorful wagon, the fancy saddles on the horses, and the chatter of the bustling crowd who gathered to watch the performers. Everything seemed bigger and brighter, louder and more exciting, with the carnival in town.
    That’s what Jesse thought of as they crossed over the bridge that led to the lawn surrounding the palace. Tents were set up here and there, creating splotches of color against the green grass. Fluttering above them were flags with all kinds of shapes and designs. From somewhere came a lilting, cheerful melody, although Jesse could hardly hear it over all the noise.
    So this is what a tournament is like! Jesse had heard of rich nobles who had the time and money to throw elaborate parties where the main entertainment was watching warriors pretend to fight each other. The idea sounded like nonsense then, but now he began to understand the appeal.
    Prince Corin had gotten them across the drawbridge and past the outer wall. Inside, the governor seemed to have his own walled city, complete with clumps of trees and a bustling main road.
    â€œFollow me,” Prince Corin said, bringing Jesse’s attention back. “I must get you some proper clothes. I cannot have my servants looking so ragged. People are already staring.”
    Jesse knew Prince Corin didn’t realize that people were staring at him, not them. Everything about Prince Corin—his clothes, his appearance, his walk, his voice—announced that he was not from Amarias.
    â€œLook who’s back,” a low voice snarled.
    Jesse turned around. There, standing with his arms crossed, was the closest thing to a human peacock that Jesse had ever seen. Compared to this man, the rich merchants in the town square seemed to be dressed as plainly as priests. His doublet was made of blue silk, with sleeves so large that Jesse though it must be hard for him to squeeze through doorways. His shoes and belt were decorated with large, scrolled buckles, and a floppy purple hat covered much of his forehead.
    His face was twisted into a haughty sneer, all of his features coming to a point at his upturned nose. He eyed Prince Corin with beady eyes, glinting with private laughter.
    The kind of person you want to punch in the face , Jesse decided.
    For his part, Prince Corin just kept walking.
    â€œThought you might have run away, island boy,” the peacock crowed, stepping in behind them. “Too afraid of getting whipped in the swordfight today. Do they even have swords on your little island?”
    Prince Corin turned to Jesse and made a face like he had tasted something foul. Then he turned, face perfectly calm. “Yes,” he said. “I’ve been trained in sword fighting since I was twelve years old.”
    â€œIs that all?” the peacock asked, snorting. “You won’t have a chance. My father had me using a small broadsword as soon as I turned three. All of the nobles in District Two do the same with their sons.”
    â€œHow fortunate for you,” Prince Corin said. “However, my father was of the opinion that young children should not be exposed to violence.”
    â€œListen, island boy,” the peacock sneered, “Lady Taralyn is the wealthiest noblewoman in Amarias, thanks to her greedy father. And she’s beautiful too, from what I hear. Her suitors are the best swordsmenin the land. You don’t have a chance. Why don’t you just go back where you came from?”
    Jesse saw Parvel stiffen beside him. Please, Parvel, don’t do anything foolish , he willed him. A slave talking back to a powerful noble was offense enough to warrant losing a hand.
    â€œPlease remind me of your name, if you would,” Prince Corin said.
    The peacock seemed surprised at Prince Corin’s polite question. “Duke Hale of Glen Court.”
    Prince Corin’s smile reminded Jesse of the