The princess, the commoner and the sorcerer

[the sorcerer]

"What do you mean?" the sorcerer roared, his face clenched in fierce anger. 
"I have told you twice now, we found not the lamp when we searched the rooms." said the leader coolly.
"Someone must have heard us," growled the sorcerer. "Incompetent fools! You could have taken him quietly!" The thugs scowled in return and fidgeted with their knives, though not daring to draw. But the sorcerer seemed to have calmed. "Never mind," said he, "I have a plan. But it will require you." And he glared at them for he feared their treachery. "Tonight I will meet with the Sultan, along with other advisors. You are to take out the guards as silently as possible and close the doors once all other advisors have left. I'll see you tonight. Do I make myself clear?" said he darkly, and he swiftly strode away. When the sun began to drop, Balveer made his way to the throne room, a combination of uncertainty, fury and nervousness in every step he took. He was pleased to see that when he arrived at the throne room, the door was flanked by two of his men, and he nodded at them as he crossed into the room. "Urgent news," cried the Sultan, calling all the advisors towards him. "The Sultan of Kash was recently taken hostage." The advisors all gave gasps of horror and muttered amongst themselves save one. Balveer smirked as he took in the irony of it all. But his arrogance gave way to nerves once again as he gripped the cold metal inside his robes. "Do not fear," said the Sultan, speaking over the panic. "For he is well and safe. Yet I fear I too may be kidnapped and we must find ways to increase security." And the meeting truly began. Though the topic of interest was enough to make anyone listen up, it was dreadfully mundane so the sorcerer offered little. Finally, when everything wrapped up, and the advisors had been dismissed, Balveer hung back, watching as the rest filed out. Carefully, he tucked his shaking hands in his robes as the doors softly shut. Unnoticed by the Sultan, he waved his hand and sealed the doors with a locking charm. Then he turned his attention back to the man sitting upon the glittering throne. 'HIS soon to be throne,' thought the sorcerer spitefully. "Your...er...Majesty," said he nervously, tripping on his words. "I have...I....something to ask of you?" The Sultan turned, a kindly expression upon his face. 
"Fire away, dear Balveer." And the Sultan smiled expectantly, awaiting Balveer's words. Suddenly, the sorcerer was behind him, pressing a razor sharp knife to his throat.
 "So how much do you think your life really costs?"