Planning The Psychotic Prince's Demise

The next days are spent waiting.

I assigned a group of guards to retrieve the artifact as described by Alloy, making sure they keep their operation as low and undetectable as possible.

There's a slight possibility that my husband has caught on to my endeavors, but he doesn't say a word, either out of disinterest or curiosity for how things will go.

I'm hoping that he hasn't pieced a single thing together. His responsibilities ought to keep him distracted while his wife pokes around places she shouldn't be.

For now, we're stuck in a stalemate. Cold nights, blazing mornings, days spent apart.

Alloy has been following me around wherever I go. Not that it's left with much of a choice. We've concluded that I'm the only human capable of hearing it.

I haven't quite figured out why that is. A good theory would be that I'm hallucinating the conversations.

But then again, it might be magic.

Aurelia has grown quite fond of Alloy, but the cat's attitude remains detached, a bit defiant even.

"Alloy! Stop running away! Let me put this crown on your adorable head!" The blonde exclaims, carrying a bundle of flowers in her hands.

The white daisies are weaved intricately, connected to make a cat-sized crown.

Pretty, but Alloy seems to disagree.

The cat's reactions are reasonable, considering the tutus and headdresses Aurelia tries to make it wear. The pieces are always ridiculously fancy, a bit endearing if not comedic.

"Please don't run, Miss Aurelia." Florian pants out.

Right. These days, the timid prince has taken the initiative to step outdoors and join Aurelia and I on our daily strolls.

A merry band, we are. Scheming princess, cursed cat, bubbly heroine, and sickly prince, roaming around the palace's garden.

Four unlikely companions, moments away from disaster.

Florian's well-being always concerns me. Aurelia doesn't seem to be aware of his ailments and keeps sprinting after Alloy. The poor boy can barely catch up.

"Allow her to chase the cat." I tell Florian, slowing down to his pace. "They'll be back."

He nods, disappointment evident on his face.

A pang of sympathy rises from my chest. It's a shame. The prince never asked to be born weak and frail. Without an ounce of mercy from the universe, he's forced to live with it.

"You're doing a good job, Aurelia considers you a dear friend."

His eyebrows scrunch in frustration. "I wish to be more than a friend."

"I understand." I hear Aurelia's squawking steps away. We're coming closer to the two. "But those developments take time. Build your relationship with her first. You will be grateful for it."

He doesn't say another word.

The sight that greets us can make even the hardest soldiers smile. Alloy, with tired eyes and a grimace, has on a daisy crown as Aurelia cuddles him to her chest—bright and ecstatic.

"He's so pretty, isn't he?" She giggles.

"Have her let me go."

I don't know. Aurelia is having fun. What's the harm in that?

"Don't make me use force." The cat threatens, drawing out its claws. Those purple eyes hold nothing but malice.

Ah. I'd rather not have an injured handmaid.

"Miss Aurelia, you should let it go before you agitate it." Florian suggests, voice soft and cheeks tinted pink.

Aurelia pouts but eventually relents to Florian's concerned musings.

She releases Alloy on the ground. The cat hisses as it leaps away, tearing the flower crown to shreads.

A bit harsh.

"I told you. Force."

"We should head back inside. It's Prince Cyrus' last dinner in the palace. Preparations have to be made." I remind them.

"I forgot about that." Florian sighs. "I don't have the energy to speak to my brothers."

Aurelia, ever so pure hearted, looks at the prince with guilt. She frowns, shoulders sagged. "I apologize, your highness. I did not mean to have you chasing me around."

I can almost feel Florian's skin burst into flames at the young lady's attention. Fortunately, he doesn't have Cyrus' powers, so nothing burns as a result.

"It's alright." He mumbles.

On our way back to the palace, a few guards approach us. There's no question why. Either they've found something in their search for the artifact or, worst case scenario, they've found nothing at all.

"Princess. You've been summoned by Prince Valerius."

I exchange a look with Alloy.

That can't be right. If he has something important to say, then he has every opportunity to bring it up in the bedroom.

It's bit dramatic, really.

Florian and Aurelia don't seem to sense the tension. I ask the two to go ahead, a scenario that has Florian blushing once more.

"He's calling you. Why?"

There's no way I would know. Regardless, we're about to find out.

The two guards lead us to a section of the palace I haven't been to before. They exchange looks of secrecy, wordlessly making conversation.

A brick wall detaches from the rest of the palace, revealing a long, winded passage of stares that spiral downward. No light enters the passageway, apart from a few burning torches. The steps are covered in soot and dust, they're almost as depressing as the walls.

I'm either walking into my death or entering hell. There's no other possibility.

Alloy seems to be thinking the same because the feline keeps quiet, cautiously climbing my shoulders.

I'm not alone, at the very least.

"Princess." A guard motions us forward.

"I refuse." I answer. What girl would be stupid enough not to sense the incoming danger?

Stepping backwards, Alloy ends up falling to its feet when I bump into a hard body. The cat hisses and pales when it sees who stands behind me.

Sharp canines. Silver eyes. "Princess." Valerius.

"What is this?" I demand, visibly on edge. Have I been found out? Is he looking to extract his revenge?

"There's something I think you'd like to see in the palace dungeons."

Remembering the wound on my shoulder, I bite my lip, glaring at the prince. "Is that an order?"

Fighting back would be fruitless. And painful.

Valerius simply smiles. "It can be. Although I'll let you have the choice for now."

"Fine."