Chapter Text
He's been following this group through the bustling market for sometime close to half past an hour now. The way they never stray far from another, coin purses clearly visible at the waist, and paying inflated prices without bothering to haggle. They're obviously from the upper ward, probably come to upturn their noses at the cheap wares, and marvel at the operations of the lower ward. A many come down to giggle about silly beggars, or how ghastly the hygiene of the streets were once returned home. Mouth falling to a sneer, the lower wards or copper district it was mockingly dubbed due to the metal being cheap making it common for ceremonial jewelry amongst them to be made of it.
This group at least attempted to blend with lower common dress. The usual colours of the higher wards swapped for the duller, more earthy scheme of the copper district. Moss green, golden wheat, cobalt noticeably sun stripped to a now cerulean, and black. Black as an unlit night when even the stars and moon still shy from the kingdom. They would have fit in seamlessly by their garb if not for the purity of it. Perhaps not silk, but obviously of a quality not seen on the dusty, dirty streets of the copper wards. Any jewelry seemed to have been left behind or hidden from view by their heavy outfits of fine cloth and soft leather that draped from head to toe.
Their attempt to blend he hoped played to his advantage. Hoping that the effort put forth to covering whatever their identities may be, be enough to discourage drawing attention to themselves. Nervously rolling his copper ear stud between thumb and forefinger he slips his body behind a nearby crate cart to maintain sight without drawing attention. He watches carefully as Black pays for the tomes handing them off to Gold, then replacing his coin pouch. As they take their leave is when he moves. Bypassing Gold, and worn cobalt he continues till Black is at his side, right hand sliding feather light to Blacks waist belt lifting his pouch. Nearly free he goes to place his goods into the folds of his worn leather vest when moss green darts into sight. Hand stilling his holding the purse, other with a tri dagger to his belly.
Alerted, their party quickly turned creating a half circle around him. "You dare!?" Moss green manages to roar, surprisingly loud for someone of his stature. Looking around to each member of the party he notices their shawls are drawn tight, striking shades of blue eyes and tufts of midnight hair are the only features visible. Cursing his luck he goes to turn his wrist to break their hold is when Gold rushes him, hooking both arms under his, hands firm behind his head. Gold brings the hard of his knee to the softs of his forcing him to the ground, bringing him eye level to Moss green's dagger.
Shouting erupts from within the crowd of the market, he notices as it carries towards them city guards he thinks as they force themselves into their scene. Gold releases his hold as armored men take each wrist, the right bent further till it yields releasing the lifted purse. A boot to the back of his head thrust him face first to the ground. Sun heated dirt is kicked up, stinging his eyes, clouding his nose and throat choking him.
"Y've really done it now Copperhead!" sneers the guard above him.
The boot grinds his face further into the dirt.
The sound of metal being unsheathed can be heard from his right.
"For the act of thievery against the crown the punishment of public execution will be carried out immediately!" a guards booming voice echoes through the silent market. Silent? When did that happen? The crown? No he had only ever done petty crimes, swiping then fencing only enough to live and support, and only ever from the Copper and Silver wards! He's never even seen past the gates of the Nuummite district let alone seen the actual palace!
"No! Please, you cant! I have someone that--" He says, hoarsely pleading while trying to struggle out of their hold only to have the boot press down hard, and earning another to the elbow on his right, bending it to a painful position. Tears freely flowing now, all struggle leaving him. A string a pleads for mercy tumbling from his lips as footsteps draw near.
"Enough of this." A gruff voice interrupts, stilling the guards. A terse "Father" is said presumably from Moss green.
"Enough, raise him." The rough command gets both boots removed from head and arm. Only to be replaced with a hand fisting his hair, dragging him back to his knees. Just now taking note of just how massive Black truly is as the guard bends his neck to present him. Through tears from is stinging eyes he can make out the now exposed face of who he tried to rob from. I truly am an idiot he thinks as horror floods his body, recognition dawning him.
The king of the realm stands before him.
The Bastard, The Ward, and The One True Heir accompany him.
"State your name. I would like to know the name of the boy that managed to pilfer my purse from my body." The roughness never leaving his voice as he peers down at him. Shaking his head as an attempt to remove the tears and firey locks from his eyes before before starring into the kings frost hardened eyes, voice hoarse as he utters,
"Roy Harper your Highness."