Shadow of the Prince

Good Intentions

The next morning, Beasty was gone. He must have scratched at the door and had one of the guards let him out.

Or he shifted into his human form and walked out on his own two legs.

Eager to ask the guards herself, she hurriedly pulled her stained dress over herself and rushed to the door. Before opening the door, she focused on pulling forth her second face. She thought of smooth, creamy skin, and a less sharp nose. She flittered her hand over her face, and newly confident in her appearance, she flung the door open.

The guards jolted at her sudden appearance.

Gone were Gerralto and Hennisan, and in their place were the guards that stood during the day. The word of her 'bewitchment' must have been passed along, as the guards pointedly avoided her gaze. She leaned forward to try and catch one of their eyes.

"Excuse me, did either of you let the prince's hound out this morning?"

"The hound?" The guard on the left spoke out of the corner of his mouth.

"Yes, the hound. You know, that overly large, black fur-covered creature the size of a bear and the shape of a wolf."

"No, mi'lady," the guard on the right replied.

Dal wanted to ask if they saw a man leave her room in the morning but caught herself before she let the words slip. She would have enough trouble making friends here as a poor girl from Bridgewater Avenue - she didn't need to further draw attention by seeming like she was already inviting suitors to her private room.

Dal sighed and decided that she would investigate the curious case of the hound later tonight when she wasn't potentially running late to meet the Magistrar. She shuffled into the hallway, noting that the soldiers standing guard cast their eyes down from her.

She paused in front of them.

"I'm alright now, no more hex. You can look at me now."

The one on the left raised his head the tiniest fraction and glanced at her. When he caught sight of her face, his face turned a surprising shade of pink.

Did she look that terrible?

"Forgive us, mi'lady. We weren't sure if you were still cursed."

Both soldiers looked to be in their twenties, with the new beginnings of beards on their faces. Their youthful eyes betrayed their armored appearance. Both had identical trimmed brown cuts of hair, similar to Hennisan and Gerralto's styles.

"What are your names? I should know them if you're going to be standing here in front of my room all day, should I not?"

"Brittnea," the guard on the left said first.

"Scotford," the guard on the right finally spoke, cautiously raising his eyes to meet hers. Like the other, he seemed to pinken at seeing her appearance.

"Lovely to meet you both, Brittnea and Scotford."

The two soldiers gave a small half-bow, boyish smiles on their faces. They looked far too young to be soldiers. She wanted to question them further and learn more about the men who stood at her doors, but she had more pressing matters.

"Do either of you happen to know the time of day? I used to live close enough to the belltower to hear the hours change, but I find here I'm lost, and always running dreadfully late."

"It's a half past seven," Brittnea answered.

"Ah, so I am late," Dal sighed, turning on her heel and turning to a trot in the hall. She waved backward in a flourished and flashed what she hoped was a pleasant smile, "have a nice day, lads!"