Excalibur's Seven | ✓ [LGBT]

~ 2 ~

THE PRISONS OF THE castle were wet and dank, with chains so rusted, Eurion wondered how long it had been since they kept a prisoner. They would be easy to break, but she'd have to figure out what she would even do once they'd been snapped. She had to be smart about this, there wouldn't be an easy-in like the gates opening to floods of mages.

She noticed the key dangling on one guard's belt, but by the time the chains were undone he'd be well away from her before she could snatch them from his waist. And even if she succeeded by some miracle, she'd be hunted down before she could get far.

The wall was covered in dust and mold, but Eurion slumped against it anyways. There wouldn't be an easy solution to this, not yet at least. She was good at getting in. She was not so great at getting out.

A sudden cry left her lips as she felt something cutting into her thigh. She looked down to find blood staining her trousers, and she let out a string of curses when she realized what it was.

"'It'd cost an arm and a leg,'" she recalled aloud. She'd stupidly ran her mouth to a faery, rattling on expressions she should've kept to herself. She knew better than to use expressions on the Sídhe. And the faery replied, "as you wish," and bound her with a ribbon she couldn't take off. If she couldn't keep up with her promise, she'd lose two limbs as she rotted away in this cell.

It would take a miracle to get her out.

* * *

As the night fell over Avalon, the mages had all left for their inns, all but one. The druid still had to find out what it was about this prince that made their hair stand on end like the charge before a storm.

They ducked behind a doorway as a group of maids carrying baskets slipped past, and just as they thought they were safe, a nobleman turned the corner. They caught it just in time, though, slipping through the door and closing it silently before the man could see them there.

Their heart pounded in their chest. They could get thrown in jail right along with the thief if they stayed too long, but not if they didn't get caught.

They slid back out of the room, sneaking down to the foyer and hiding beneath a covered table. They cringed at the sight of a rotted mouse decaying by the foot of the table, but let their attention divert back to the task at hand.

They could feel that tingle again as the prince drew near to the throne room. He was not alone, they sensed two others escorting him who remained situated at the door when the prince stepped into the room. Chalice pressed their ear to the wall, straining to hear.

"Your Majesty," he greeted.

The King was quiet for a long moment. When he finally spoke, they only caught bits and pieces. The King was upset with him, clearly. Criticizing him for causing a scene, something about the prince Connor, about the late Queen. Chalice knew nothing of the younger prince, but they knew this treatment was unwarranted and cruel.

It was over only after an agonizing wait. They waited until the guards moved to escort the prince again before they left their hiding place, pressing against the walls as they followed after him. But they could only get so far before even the guards were turned away from the royal quarters. At least now they knew where the prince was.

They followed a maid to the quarters, slipping into the back and finding a spare uniform in a dusty storage room. It fit a little loosely, but it hid the lack of telling curves that all the other maids seemed to have. It would have to do.

A stack of pins and thread caught their eye and they pulled out a few, stuffing them into their front pocket. They emerged from the room, only to land right in front of another maid. They didn't sense her somehow.