Still smiling from talking with Arman, Jack settled onto an empty public bench and unwrapped his hot snack. A fragrant steam rose, carrying the scents of sweet honey, aromatic spices, and tender, juicy lamb. He inhaled, letting the warmth and comfort sink in. The sun was bright, and the day warm and pleasant; one of those rare moments when everything felt right. Content, he held the wrap before him, opened his mouth wide, excitement bubbling in his chest, only to be interrupted by two small tugs on his sleeve.

  There was a young girl with a dirty face, tied-up matted hair, and sorrowful, puppy-dog eyes. She was standing beside him. It was the orphan girl. She stared at the heavenly wrap in Jack’s hand.

  Jack glanced from the wrap to the girl and then back to the wrap. Offering an annoyed smile, he nodded towards the empty space beside him on the bench.

  The orphan rushed to sit down, like the space would disappear if she didn’t claim it.

  Jack sighed, without meeting her eyes, he tapped her arm and offered her the open wrap.

  Drooling, she moved closer, leaning into him, and waited for Jack to unwrap his remaining snack. She wiped her mouth with the back of her hand while she waited.

  For the next few minutes, the pair sat in companionable silence, enjoying their meal. The only sounds were the gentle bubbling of a nearby fountain, the distant chatter of birds, and the soft, contented groans of two young souls delighting in Arman’s divine creations.

  Jack watched the orphan lick and chew clean the wrapping from her meal. If she chews any harder, she’ll eat it. Glancing at his own wrapper, which still had a small amount of grease and flavourings, he licked his lips and considered copying the girl.

  He was still a little hungry and considered revisiting Arman. I’ve got 4 silvers… His gaze shifted to the girl, who was now eyeing his unlicked wrapper. If I buy another wrap, I’ll have to get her another one as well.

  Jack took in the state of the orphan. Her face was dirty, her hair matted, and one of her boots looked like it had been marinated in a sewer for months. Her clothes were filthy with traces of old blood and only the Gods knew what else. What happened to you? He wondered. Poor kid.

  She was still eyeing his wrapper.

  “Have you no family in the city?” he asked.

  She looked down at her chewed wrapper and shook her head.

  Jack frowned. “No family… that’s rough.” He remembered how alone he felt after his family was killed by Greaves. Merciar was a great Kingdom, but great at caring for the less fortunate, it was not.

  This tale has been pilfered from Royal Road. If found on Amazon, kindly file a report.

  The orphan continued to eye his wrapper. He handed it to her. “Who looks after you?” He already knew the answer.

  She shrugged while pulling open the unlicked wrapper, searching for any remaining crumbs.

  Jack forced a smile and shook his head, knowing he was going to regret his next action. “Follow me…” he said, “my younger sister should have some old clothes you can have.” He stood and began walking towards his home.

  The girl hesitated but then jumped down from the bench and ran to walk beside him. They walked towards Jack’s home in silence.

  A few streets from home, they skirted close to the two inquisitors exiting a property, behind them their guards were escorting a young man and woman who looked distressed. The young man had a bloody nose and the woman was crying. One of the guards was carrying a toddler who was also crying, another guard was carrying what looked like a box of books.

  Jack took a deep breath and continued on his way. What did they do wrong?

  A little while later, Jack unlocked the door to his home and entered, the orphan close behind. The house was quiet.

  “Mom?” Jack called.

  There was no reply.

  “Mom, are you home?” he called again, still receiving no reply.

  They headed towards the kitchen. The room was warm and inviting, even though the oven wasn’t on.

  Mom must be out ordering supplies, Jack thought. His mother cooked food for multiple merchants in Lundun and went through quite a lot of meat and vegetables.

  Jack pointed to the kitchen table. “Take a seat,” he said to the orphan girl he’d brought home. “My mom’s out… I’ll find you some old clothes.” As the girl took a seat, he leaned his new bow and quiver against one of the chairs and wondered where Polly’s old clothes might be stored.

  He assumed they’d be in her room. She won’t mind if I take a few old items for a good cause. He started to leave the kitchen but detoured to the stove, where his mom almost always had something cooking.

  Jack grabbed a clean bowl and filled it with what he assumed was stew. “Still hot enough to eat. Hmm… smells really good.” It seemed she’d left the kitchen less than an hour ago. He placed the bowl of warm stew in front of the girl. “Here you go. Enjoy.”

  Her eyes widened at the sight of the food before looking up at Jack for confirmation, to which he nodded. She grabbed the bowl, drinking it like lumpy soup.

  Jack chuckled. “Slow down.” He passed her a clean spoon. “My mom’s a great cook. She used to work at one of those fancy restaurants that only serve nobles. Take your time to appreciate it.” He glanced at the time. “She should be home soon… unless she’s lost in another one of her errands.”

  As the girl wolfed down the stew with the hunger of a stray dog, Jack searched Polly’s room for old clothes. After rifling through her wardrobe and finding nothing small enough for the orphan to wear, he stood in the centre of the room, frowning. “Where would she keep her old clothes?”

  He wasn’t even sure if her old clothes were still in the house. When he outgrew his own, they just disappeared, replaced as if by magic. He’d never thought about where they went, or who made that happen.

  Jack spotted the flashy prince’s costume and remembered he still had the prince’s valet uniform stuffed in his pack. “Better put that back before I forget.” He gave it a good shake to flatten out the wrinkles and returned it to where he’d found it, then resumed his hunt for his sister’s old clothes.

  As he looked under the bed for the second time, the front door creaked open. “That must be Mom.” After one last glance around for potential hiding places for old clothes, he grabbed his pack and headed back to the kitchen.

  Then came a scream.