The Royal Curse

Twenty - Candlelit Talks

Kace Holland

Many moments of life could make someone question their worth. This... This was one of them for myself. I stared into my glass of wine and hardly touched plate of food, reminding myself of the incident a couple of nights ago.

The table thumped as I tilted my wine, just enough to coat the inside. Maybe there was a murderer in the palace. Maybe I could finally be rid of the vixen in my halls.

Oh, Senna.

I gulped down the remainder of my wine. It tasted like absolutely nothing. No bitterness, no sweetness, no saltiness. Pure water. The door hardly looked right. In fact, it swirled to the side upon closer inspection. It even folded into the yellow marble flooring. Or maybe the flooring folding up?

It looked the same, so who cared? Not me. I pushed my chair with whatever strength I had and braced myself on the table.

I was not weak, not disabled, not unworthy. They will be good enough for me or I will rid of them. Starting with her.

Senna.

Senna, Senna, Senna. If only I hadn't spewed her revolting name out. If only I sent her away sooner. Better now than never, I supposed.

Edging myself along the wall, the curtains of the room moved into my vision. Or maybe I went too close. Fuck, I couldn't walk through the halls like this.

"Prince Kace, the warden would like a word with you," a familiarly deep voice asked, though I was unsure where from.

I swiveled myself toward where I thought the door was, but it somehow grew larger, and I walked straight into it.

"Are you intoxicated?" the man asked.

Glancing at his face, the semblance to Mallor was uncanny. Therefore, he was Mallor. "Indeed, Mallor, I am intoxicated. I am also Prince Kace. Anymore observations?"

"Technically, you being Prince Kace isn't an observation—"

"I cannot handle smart talk right now. Send me to my horse!" I pushed myself off Mallor and off into the corridor, cradling myself under a torch. "Oh, Mallor! I think I forgot my paperwork in the bar—"

"Prince Kace, please stop shouting." Mallor gathered me into his arms, placing a hand behind my head.

Digging my heel into the hard floors, I yanked Mallor off my body. "Listen, listen, Mallor, I have very important papers in the bar. If you just fetch my horse, I will retrieve them and shut down the Kandose ports."

"There are no papers in the bar, Prince Kace. You brought nothing there, and we found you barely functioning in a random hotel room—"

"I am functioning! What, am I a clown?" Attempting to lean forward to prove a point, I managed to somehow do the opposite and lean backward, nearly flambéing my hair. "I am a phoenix! Father cannot kill me, I am already cooked!"

"Saints," Mallor muttered, yanking me so hard I tripped over my delicate feet. He threaded my arm over his shoulders and guided me down a twisty, swirling hall. "Stop dragging your feet."

"I want my horse. Now."

"I'm about to have a horse kick you if you don't quit screaming," Mallor quipped.