The King's Daughters Read Online Free PDF Page A

dandy."
    "Shhh," I blew.
    Rising from his curtsey, the newcomer sashayed toward us.
    "You!" Lars sneered. "I should've known."
    "Delighted to see you too, Lars."
    "How dare you use my name. I have not permitted you such familiarity."
    "I am deeply hurt, Lars. And I who thought we were close friends."
    Lars snorted. "We were never friends."
    The dandy twirled a lock of his long wavy hair. "Now I'm confused. You certainly behaved in a friendly manner when you came to see me two nights ago."
    Lars's friends gasped. As for Lars, he turned bright red. "I've never! You're a liar!"
    "Are you denying having met with me? The night's guards can confirm your presence at my door. Oh, and so can Countess Ivana. She was in my adjacent boudoir at the time. Surely you will not call her a liar too?"
    "I was there for a piece of garment—for the ball. The coming ball. For that purpose alone."
    The dandy placed a finger on his dimpled chin. "Strange. Somehow I remember it differently."
    "I spoke the truth, you know it!" Lars said defensively.
    "You spoke, I'll agree to that. As for the truth . . . were you not caught in a lie moments ago?"
    "Sir! You've insulted me. I demand reparation."
    To my astonishment, the dandy uttered an excited shriek while jumping with joy. "Marvelous! I just love a good fight."
    I turned my attention to Lars; he was just as dumbfounded by the dandy's reaction as I was. A peek at Lars's friends told me that they too shared our feelings.
    "I will not spare you," Lars warned the dandy. "This is a true combat. Choose your weapon."
    "I choose my handkerchief," the dandy said, twirling the lacy piece of fabric in the air.
    His face as red as a brick, Lars stamped his foot down. "A handkerchief isn't a weapon. Choose an adequate one."
    "I beg to differ. In this case, my handkerchief is the adequate weapon."
    "The man is mad," whispered Milo.
    I nodded in agreement.
    "As you wish," said Lars. He pulled his long sword, and without further ceremony charged the dandy. This one stayed in place fanning himself with his handkerchief until Lars was upon him. Then he took a slight step to the left, escaping the sword, and tripping Lars with one of his dainty feet.
    "Oops," he exclaimed, staring apologetically at the sprawled Lars. "You haven't hurt yourself, I hope."
    I had to bite my tongue not to laugh.
    Lars leapt to his feet and swung his sword toward his opponent. In a swift move, the dandy twisted his handkerchief around the blade and pulled, ripping the sword out of Lars's hands. Tucking the sword under his arm, the dandy waved his handkerchief at Lars. "I told you my handkerchief was more than adequate for this battle."
    Heaving with rage, Lars darted a murderous glare at the dandy. "I won't forget this."
    "Oh, neither will I, and nor will your friends assembled here." The dandy produced a brilliant smile. "They'll remember this encounter forever. Detailed accounts of it will be spread throughout the castle and the country for years and years to come . . . I'm quite certain of this."
    Stunned by the devastating repercussions of his defeat, Lars became as still as stone. I watched the blood slowly drain from his face, leaving it a pasty white. Then Lars broke his stillness, and his gaze turned to his friends.
    The young nobles were all fighting back laughter as best they could. Some had their hands clamped over their mouths, while others tried to look elsewhere in the hope it would suppress their mirth—to no avail. A loud chuckle escaped from one of them. A few more young men in the group followed his example, and soon they were all bent over laughing. And when Lars turned around and left, with his back as straight as the castle's tower and his butt as tight as a merchant's purse, the noblemen's laughter reached a deafening crescendo.
    Once they had regained their composure, which was long after Lars had disappeared from sight, the young noblemen congratulated the dandy on his victory. Then following in Lars's steps,