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The closer he drew to the crowd, the more curious he became. He heard whispers of “disrespectful brat” and “poor little girl” as he made his way toward a tight clump of people who were looking down at something.
At twelve years old, Gideon was already six feet tall, so he had no problem looking over everyone’s heads. The scene in front of him caused him to stop short. His heart twisted, and he knew he’d never forget the sight before him. Evangelina Wellingsley, Princesse of Ile de la Lune, had wrapped a chain around the giant tree trunk and had handcuffed herself to the chain.
At only eight years old, the princesse probably didn’t weigh more than forty-five pounds. Yet she stood fierce and defiant, bravely daring the three large men in front of her holding saws and hatchets to touch her beloved tree. Though there were unshed tears in her eyes and her little chin trembled, she refused to move.
He could only imagine how terrified she must be, standing up to men who likely looked like giants to her. Even to him, they looked threatening and evil with their grim faces. But the mutinous look in the princess’s brilliant blue eyes and the defiant expression on her face said she didn’t care how terrifying they looked, she was not moving.
His body tense, Gideon watched the faces of the men. Surely there was no way they would risk the king’s wrath by touching her or even speaking harshly. But they were so large, so menacing, he imagined even the bravest of men might back down from them. But not the princess.
One of them, the tallest and biggest, took a step toward the little girl and shouted, “Move!”
“No!” she shouted back.
The man who’d yelled glanced back at his co-workers, as if looking for support. One of the palace guards stepped in front of him and growled, “Move back.”
The man stepped back, and Gideon felt a wave of relief. Finally, someone was coming to her defense. The guard then turned back to the princess and stood in front of her, so close that he towered over her. Gideon couldn’t see the man’s face, but instead of looking protective, he appeared just as intimidating. Perhaps even more so than the men with saws and axes.
Gideon’s gaze went to the faces of the people in the crowd. Some looked worried, a few looked angry, but it appeared that no one was going to do anything to help the princess.
With three younger siblings, Gideon had always taken his responsibility of protecting them seriously. His parents had instilled in him the need to shield the vulnerable. Just because he was a skinny kid without a weapon would not stop him from doing the right thing.
Maneuvering through the crowd was easy. Nobody paid attention to a tall, scrawny kid worming his way to the front. They were too focused on the drama before them.
The closer he got, the angrier he became. Why was no one sticking up for her? Though he doubted anyone would be foolish enough to actually hurt her, he knew that mobs could act in irrational ways. He had no real idea what he was going to do, but she was an eight-year-old child. If this were his sister or brothers, nothing would stop him from defending them.
He was only a few feet away from her when a giant hand grabbed him and swung him around. “Stay out of this, garcon.”
Gideon stared up at the meanest-eyed man he’d ever seen. Bald, with a long, narrow nose and thin lips, the guard reeked of arrogance and evil. Though he was likely fifty pounds lighter, Gideon knew what to do. Both his mother and father had told him that if anyone ever touched him in a threatening or inappropriate way, he had the right to defend himself. He knocked the man’s hand off his shoulder and then, using his fist, punched the man in the groin.
Gideon didn’t wait around to see his reaction. He ran forward and stood beside the trembling princess. He didn’t speak to her, didn’t touch her, but she knew he was there. And if anyone tried to harm her, he would make sure they paid for it.
She spared him a glance, and he noticed that up close, she looked even younger. Though she didn’t say anything to him, he saw a flare of appreciation in her blue eyes before she turned back to the threatening crowd and resumed her mutinous expression.
Whispers swept through the crowd, and several seconds passed before he understood their meaning. The king had arrived.
As if on cue, the cruel-looking guard who’d grabbed Gideon earlier took several steps in front of the group and yelled, “Get back! Get back!”
Even at twelve years old, Gideon recognized a phony when he saw one. The brute had done nothing to protect the princess, but now that the king had arrived, he would try to look the hero.
Gideon glanced at the princess to see if she was relieved that her father had arrived or was even more scared. When he heard her whisper, “Papa,” in a hopeful tone, he knew she would be all right.
“Gideon?”
Jerked out of the past, it took him a few seconds to realize Eve had spoken his name more than once.
“What?”
“That was you? You were the boy who came to stand beside me?”
“You remember?”
“Of course I remember. You were the only one who stood up for me.”
Once the king had arrived, things had happened quickly. The entire crowd had been dispersed in a matter of seconds, which had included him. He’d been pushed away and managed only one last glimpse of the princess. She’d been looking up at her father and nodding as he’d touched her shoulder. From the tender expression on the king’s face, Gideon had known the princess would be fine.
“I told my father about you,” she whispered. “That a tall, skinny boy stood beside me and tried to protect me. He said he asked around, but no one claimed to have seen you. I think he decided I was so traumatized by the event, I made you up.”
“Were you traumatized?”
