4 Princes

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"'Now I will plague and punish thee at thy own house.' The carter was forced at last to leave his cart behind him, and to go home overflowing with rage and vexation."
(Brothers Grimm: The Dog and the Sparrow)

ROOK
TONIGHT IS THE NIGHT of reckoning. I was forced to bring in an actual witness. A witness for crying out loud. I should of just had her killed, but the man I found her with was extremely loyal to my father.

He had also been stationed with me ever since my mystery royal ran the first time and I couldn't find her. I had my suspicions that my father had his suspicions. I couldn't give him any air to his fire.

"You saw her," I stated.

This girl was something dangerous. She wasn't made of porcelain like many of the women I knew. She reminded me of Hera— a fire that burned through water.

"I did," she said, looking nervously from Razoul to me. Razoul had a nasty black eye that I could only assume came from her.

She didn't look like someone who wanted to die, she looked like someone who thought they were going too. I wasn't too fond of killing someone who I wasn't fighting. Chains kept me from honor in my kill. Although, lately it seemed my honor had been slipping. I was lying to my father, disobeying my older siblings, and getting drunk without proper reason.

"Where did she go? Did she tell you anything? Is this her shoe?" I held up the shoe I had found. I sounded desperate, and as much as it wasn't a good look on me, you would think it was by how my father had looked at me. He ran his fingernails over his chin, through his short beard, as he smirked at me.

The girl— she refused to tell me her name— had long black hair. She was wearing a hooded wolf skin cloak, blood still in the fur, but it had ripped and was now in two pieces. Only the wolf's head and part of the back of its neck still lay across her shoulders.

"No, that's not her shoe." She said, certain of that. And this girl didn't seem very certain much.

I took a deep breath and threw the shoe lazily begin my back. It was a flat dancing shoe I had found outside the palace, definitely not the one of my mystery lady, but I wanted to at least pretend like I was trying. "What about the other questions?"

"I already told you! She turned into some kitchen wench with dirty clothes and ugly boring dishwater blonde hair," she responded.

I put held the sides of my forehead in between my thumb and pointer finger. "Only witches have magic. And she already had dirty dishwater blonde hair." I didn't know what that meant but it sounded insulting.

The girl rolled her eyes. "What a gentlemen."

Why did everyone assume a warrior, battle ready, assassin was a gentlemen? Because I was a Prince? I wasn't Adam, I didn't get trained in the niceties. Jack had some lessons but for the most he didn't follow them.

"Go get Jack," my father ordered. "He'll torture it out of her."

"No!" She yelled.

My father eyed her curiously. "No? Are you scared?"

She didn't reply, only looked deep into my fathers eyes. In her gaze, was the answer.

"Good. Razoul, go get Jack." He clapped his hands and Razoul bowed.

"Yes, King Anderson." Razoul smirked nastily at the girl in front of me. He was disgusting. He enjoyed hurting people below him.

The girl tried to jump up but was brought down forcefully by the chains binding her hands behind her.