Read Fallen in Love for Free Online Page B
Authors: Lauren Kate
clear Henry didn’t read, either. “What do they say?” he asked. “I thought they were mere ornamentation.” And then, remembering that he’d claimed to have made the hat, he added, “The design was given to me by a passing gentleman.”
“They are the mark of the devil!” Shelby improvised, her voice getting louder as she gained confidence. “The spiky arms are his mark and his brand.”
The crowd gasped and pushed closer. The smell of them made Shelby feel like she couldn’t get a breath.
Henry held the cap away from him. “Is that so? Then why do you want it?”
“Why do you think? I aim to destroy it in the name of all that is holy and right in the world.”
There was a murmur of approval from the crowd.
“I will burn it and rid this world of its evil mark!” She was really getting into this.
A few in the crowd gave feeble cheers.
“I will protect us all from the bane of the cap!”
Henry scratched his head. “It’s just a cap, though, innit?”
Around Shelby, people turned to look at her. “Well, yes, but … my point is that I’ll take it off your hands.”
Tailor looked at the bonnet in her hand, his left eyebrow rising. “That handiwork looks familiar,” he muttered. Then he looked again at Miles’s cap. “An even trade, then?”
Shelby held out the lacy wimple. “An even trade.”
The man nodded and the exchange was made. Miles’s treasured Dodgers cap felt like solid gold in Shelby’s hands, and she couldn’t get back to the tent fast enough. He was going to be so happy! She bounded up the green, past minstrels singing sad and lonely songs, past children in the eternal game of tag, and soon she saw the outline of Miles’s shoulders in the dark.
Only, it wasn’t dark.
Miles had figured out how to make a fire! And he was roasting a forkful of sausages over the open flame. When he looked up at her and smiled, a tiny dimple she’d never noticed before appeared in his left cheek. Shelby felt dizzy. It might have been from running all that way. Or the sudden heat of the fire.
“Hungry?” Miles asked.
She nodded, too nervous about her news of havingreclaimed his cap to find words. She held the hat behind her back, self-conscious about everything. Her posture, the gift, her baggy medieval clothes. But this was Miles; he wouldn’t judge her. Then why did she suddenly feel so jittery?
“Thought you might be. Hey, where’s your bonnet?”
Was there a hint of regret in his voice? Did her hair look ridiculous? Now she didn’t even have the elastic band to pull it back.
She flushed. “I traded it.”
“Oh. For something to give to Luce and Daniel?”
The way the light played off his face, Miles looked like her best friend and also like an entirely new person. Someone, she realized, she would very much like to get to know.
“Yeah.” Shelby felt weird, standing over him with her crazy lion’s mane. Why didn’t she have hair like Luce, hair that was smooth and shiny and sexy and stuff? Hair that boys liked. Miles had liked Luce’s hair. He was still staring at Shelby. “What?”
“No big deal. Sit down. There’s cider, and some bread.”
Shelby dropped onto the grass next to Miles, careful to hide his cap in the folds of her dress. She wanted to give it to him at the right moment, like after her stomach stopped growling. He slid a sizzling sausage onto a thick, crusty slice of bread and handed her a dented tin cup of cider. They clinked cups, locked eyes.
“Where’d you get all this stuff?”
“You think you’re the only one who can barter? I had to say goodbye to two good shoelaces for that sandwich, lady, so eat up.”
As Shelby took a bite and sipped her drink, she was glad to see that Miles wasn’t staring at her hair. He was gazing at the expanse of tents leading up to the city, at the smoke of a hundred campfires commingling in the air. She felt warmer and happier than she had in a very long time.
Finishing his sandwich before Shelby had even
“They are the mark of the devil!” Shelby improvised, her voice getting louder as she gained confidence. “The spiky arms are his mark and his brand.”
The crowd gasped and pushed closer. The smell of them made Shelby feel like she couldn’t get a breath.
Henry held the cap away from him. “Is that so? Then why do you want it?”
“Why do you think? I aim to destroy it in the name of all that is holy and right in the world.”
There was a murmur of approval from the crowd.
“I will burn it and rid this world of its evil mark!” She was really getting into this.
A few in the crowd gave feeble cheers.
“I will protect us all from the bane of the cap!”
Henry scratched his head. “It’s just a cap, though, innit?”
Around Shelby, people turned to look at her. “Well, yes, but … my point is that I’ll take it off your hands.”
Tailor looked at the bonnet in her hand, his left eyebrow rising. “That handiwork looks familiar,” he muttered. Then he looked again at Miles’s cap. “An even trade, then?”
Shelby held out the lacy wimple. “An even trade.”
The man nodded and the exchange was made. Miles’s treasured Dodgers cap felt like solid gold in Shelby’s hands, and she couldn’t get back to the tent fast enough. He was going to be so happy! She bounded up the green, past minstrels singing sad and lonely songs, past children in the eternal game of tag, and soon she saw the outline of Miles’s shoulders in the dark.
Only, it wasn’t dark.
Miles had figured out how to make a fire! And he was roasting a forkful of sausages over the open flame. When he looked up at her and smiled, a tiny dimple she’d never noticed before appeared in his left cheek. Shelby felt dizzy. It might have been from running all that way. Or the sudden heat of the fire.
“Hungry?” Miles asked.
She nodded, too nervous about her news of havingreclaimed his cap to find words. She held the hat behind her back, self-conscious about everything. Her posture, the gift, her baggy medieval clothes. But this was Miles; he wouldn’t judge her. Then why did she suddenly feel so jittery?
“Thought you might be. Hey, where’s your bonnet?”
Was there a hint of regret in his voice? Did her hair look ridiculous? Now she didn’t even have the elastic band to pull it back.
She flushed. “I traded it.”
“Oh. For something to give to Luce and Daniel?”
The way the light played off his face, Miles looked like her best friend and also like an entirely new person. Someone, she realized, she would very much like to get to know.
“Yeah.” Shelby felt weird, standing over him with her crazy lion’s mane. Why didn’t she have hair like Luce, hair that was smooth and shiny and sexy and stuff? Hair that boys liked. Miles had liked Luce’s hair. He was still staring at Shelby. “What?”
“No big deal. Sit down. There’s cider, and some bread.”
Shelby dropped onto the grass next to Miles, careful to hide his cap in the folds of her dress. She wanted to give it to him at the right moment, like after her stomach stopped growling. He slid a sizzling sausage onto a thick, crusty slice of bread and handed her a dented tin cup of cider. They clinked cups, locked eyes.
“Where’d you get all this stuff?”
“You think you’re the only one who can barter? I had to say goodbye to two good shoelaces for that sandwich, lady, so eat up.”
As Shelby took a bite and sipped her drink, she was glad to see that Miles wasn’t staring at her hair. He was gazing at the expanse of tents leading up to the city, at the smoke of a hundred campfires commingling in the air. She felt warmer and happier than she had in a very long time.
Finishing his sandwich before Shelby had even