In the utility room, Petronio plunged his hand inside his jacket. Damn and Diana! His trusty knife was currently lying under the mattress in his bedroom. Totally useless! Maybe it would be better to wait for the professionals. He wasn’t sure how to go about tackling a fully grown man, especially one who would be armed with both muscle and an array of heavy wrenches, but he could try. After all, he was well known for his ungentlemanly successes in combat class. He’d use the element of surprise.

He took a deep breath and jumped from his hiding place with a screeching yell. The plumber spun around toward him, an ugly-looking iron wrench poised in midair. But it was a slight brown face with high cheekbones that hovered behind, topped by the customary leather skullcap. And the eyes that stared wide with alarm were a vivid, almost jewel green. This was not the sort of surprise Petronio had intended.

“You!” Petronio shouted.

The face stared back with instant recognition. In Arborium, children from all backgrounds attended nursery and acorn school together until the age of seven; rich and poor mixed together like compost. After that, education cost; only those with means could afford it. The King enjoyed using words such as equality but the reality was far different. Ensconced within his palace walls, the old man had no idea that the compost was rotten to the core.

Once Petronio had moved on and become aware that his former playmate, Ark Malikum, was the son of a sewage worker, he’d wrinkled his nose and quickly joined the other children in looking down on him. Ark had always been skinny and faintly smelly: easy prey. Petronio remembered how his embarrassment at the association had given way to casual threats and intimidation whenever he and his new friends crossed paths with the unfortunate Ark. Their lives had gone in very separate ways, as birth intended — until now.

This momentary shock delayed Petronio for a split second too long.

In that instant, Ark dived for the door, knocking a pile of boxes sideways. Anything he lacked in strength, he made up for in speed. Flight had always been his best way out of trouble and he was nearest the door.

By the time Petronio recovered his senses to scramble over the boxes and lunge out through the open doorway, he was greeted and grabbed by two sets of powerful arms.

“What ’ave we ’ere? A chubby mole in a hole!”

“You’ve got the wrong person!” Petronio shrieked, only too aware of the consequences of this mistake. “Quick, he’s getting away!”

“Oh dear, oh dear, oh dear! Always innocent, aren’t they?” The guards were obviously newly appointed, and what was more, they were smiling a bit too eagerly as the sturdy youth tried to struggle free.