[COMPLETE] ❝Seven princes stood before me. But which of them is the one I seek?❞
Briar Rosette, a curious girl of the 21st century, was somehow captivated by one of History's greatest mysteries. It was the tale between the Painter and the Musician...
It means that the king falsified his extravagantly dramatic speech.
Briar Rosette wrote the message with a feather pen and tucked it underneath the sack of rice. After the masquerade ball and its shenanigans, the members of the Assemblage proceeded with the Second Act, which was to provide stolen goods from the palace for the people before the rise of dawn. They also gave them weapons to use during the Armageddon; the battle that was between good and evil, the final showdown.
Hans and his group of soldiers weren't around. The village downhill was atypically peaceful without their presence. Still, the maiden didn't assume it as an opportunity to relax. Her classic bow, Aculeus, stayed at her back unused and fit.
“It's silent. How quaint.” Prince Agustus Dane surmised, looking around.
“Father is punishing them as of late.” Prince Tayden Pharrell surprisingly spoke. Although then the maiden's attention altered direction, reeling towards his statement.
Punishing? She shivered. The calmness to his voice must indicate that this wasn't big news, but a natural outcome.
Rosette knew she was an unfortunate the moment the Heir assigned her to join the assassins he purposely paired up during their plan-making at the Round Table. When she saw the two together, she found herself in a paramount, uncomfortable situation. Yes, the village was peaceful, yet there was a storm brewing in her, having her heart pound and her head spin. Even the song of birds sounded like a dreadful dirge to her ears.
According to Prince Nathaniel's amusement, they were the dog, cat, and mouse team. According to Rosette's agitation, they were more than just slapstick comedy. They were a testament of fate.
“Oh dear, it finally speaks.” The ebony-haired prince pointed out, a sly glint from the shift of his gaze. “You rarely talk nowadays.”
“I rarely talk since birth,” countered the fifth-born, glaring as sharp as his twin daggers, “so hold your tongue and get to work. Advance is not fast with only the two of us here. A new group of soldiers might arrive any second now.”
Two. He said.
Was it a mistake? Was it because she was unnoticeable?
Or was it because he didn't want to acknowledge her company?
The maiden knew the obvious answer.
Prince Agustus’ expression darkened. “Take that back, Tayden.”
“Take what back?”
The second-born was about to charge in and wring his brother by the neck when Rosette hurriedly grabbed the edges of his waist-belt, forcing him immobile. Flustered, he whirled his head behind him to peek at her. The maiden was looking down at the ground.
“He's right. Let's not waste time.” She mumbled, letting go.
Prince Agustus watched her spin around and retreat to the other street.
“It has always been you with him, hasn't it?” he heaved a breath, certain that she wouldn't be there to hear it. He said it with a humoristic tone as he hoisted a crate of raw meat to prove that he was fine. But since he couldn't laugh, perhaps he wasn't fine after all.
This task was tiring.
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