Chapter 27: Lowborn
Vicente bent down and rummaged through the large selection of stones beneath our feet. When he stood up straight, he already had a nice flat pebble in the shape of a guitar pick in his hand.
He gazed into the flowing, calm waters that mirrored the golden glow of the setting sun. Then, he weighed the stone in his palm and, apparently satisfied, threw it in a whip-like motion.
Plip, plip, plip, plip... splash. The stone skipped four times before it dropped and was swallowed by the river. Vicente grinned.
"What you said earlier—did you mean that?" he asked, eyes still fixed on where the pebble had disappeared.
I crouched and searched for my own pebble along the rocky bank. It only took seconds before I found a somewhat flat stone, a bit on the heavier side, but I figured I could make it work with a little added strength.
Mimicking Vicente's motion, I threw the stone. The moment it left my hand, I felt a slight pain in my waist and instantly knew it was a terrible throw. The stone traveled flat through the air, then plunged straight into the water without a single skip. I clucked my tongue and took a breath of the cold air.
"I do," I said to him.
"So, you think a lowborn can rise in status?" he asked, a bit sheepishly. It was strange to see him that way—awkward and unsure—especially since he was usually so smug. That smugness was part of why I'd assumed he came from a wealthy family.
"Is there even such a thing as a lowborn? All men are created equal," I replied.