The Beast Within

A King's Game: Chapter Four

I studied the maze before me, searching for a hint of red.

There were no flags to be found, red or otherwise, and the hall was bereft of a guard to ask directions from. I was on my own, but comfortable, for I preferred solitude to any companionship offered by the castle.

Confident I could find my way, I started in the direction I remembered coming from.

Silent doors eyed me as I went, so many I lost count, and every time I tried to open one I found it locked tight. I began to fear I was doomed to roam the castle until I starved and became a forgotten pile of bones and dust.

I spied light around a corner and followed it, stopping before a massive door built from white oak. It was closed, and the light I'd seen was spilling from a hole the size of a mouse that had cracked in the wood and widened over time. I heard voices on the other side, so I peered into the hole to spy their owners, hoping they might oblige me with a way out. I had a limited view of an extravagantly furnished room, filled with brass-armed and velvet-cushioned chairs, swaths of heavy drapes, and a canopy of sheer muslin falling over a bed that could fit a family. A great fire lit the place, casting an almost holy glow on the boy in the bed, who was propped into sitting by several pillows. 

The prince. This was his room.

Amidst the sea of blankets he looked absurdly tiny, like a child's doll left to stand watch. He'd been bathed and redressed in a loose robe, and the expression framed by a mop of wet hair was gloomy.

Standing next to the bed and holding the prince's wrist was the silver-haired physician who had escorted him from the kitchen. He leaned down and pressed his ear against the prince's hand, and after making some sort of odd calculation his face scrunched into disappointment. He released the boy and turned to write on a long parchment, while the prince's eyes remained fixed ahead at something beyond my line of sight.

I was just about to turn away and resume my quest to leave the hall when the physician spoke.

"The medicine worked, my prince. There is a little murmur, but your body is stable."

"No thanks to that dog," the prince spat.

I winced. The boy's thoughts were on me, and they were dark.

"Come now, didn't you enjoy your hour outside?"

"How could I? The sun is too hot and it hurts to walk. And it always ends the same way."

"All the more reason for you to remain cautious in any exercise."

"It was the dog's fault this time."

I couldn't be blamed for his ailment. It wasn't my fault that instead of telling me flowers posed a threat, the prince had made up a story about invisible bugs before happily taking the dangerous plant and shoving it up his nose.

Why had he lied to me, when he knew his life might be at stake?

"I want it beaten," the prince continued. "I want it to suffer the same as me."

"Now, now," the physician said with a cluck of his tongue, "the boy is your father's guest. And you know he didn't truly mean to harm you."

"I don't know that. It's a monster, maybe a spy. Why does Dada allow it to live? He even invites the disgusting thing to dine with us!"

"Don't work yourself up."

"It should be tied up outside on a leash."

"You know why the king keeps his company."