Shadow of the Prince

Wrong Choices

The next morning, cold wetness along her forehead woke her. Dal sat up abruptly, her eyes flinging wide.

Beasty stared back at her, his large form looming over her as he sat back on his haunches on her bed.

Dal took a deep breath to steady her quickened heartbeat.

"Good morning, Beasty. I didn't know if you would be here, or if you would find your way out like last time."

Beasty snorted, before jumping down from the bed and trotting over to her door. He looked back over his shoulder, almost expectantly.

Dal sighed, flung the blanket from her, and scratched at the itchy dress that she hadn't bothered to take off last night. She fumbled around on the side table, revealing some bread she had snuck to her room a few nights back.

"Here, Beasty. Do you want a snack before you go?"

The black wolf's ears went back, almost aggressively. Dal raised her eyebrows, surprised at the hound's sudden shift in his otherwise pleasant mood. 

He couldn't know that she fed him something in his pie, could he?

"Fine, fine. I'll let you out."

Once gone, Dal shoved the hunk of bread back onto the side table beside the bed, suddenly not hungry, either.

Dal set about readying herself for the day and changing her clothes. She wasn't sure what to wear entirely, but like before she chose a plain dress with leather breaches underneath, and her pair of old, trustworthy boots.

For a moment she wondered if she should choose one of her nicer dresses that the Prince had gotten for her, and then she realized how very silly that thought was.

She didn't need to worry about impressing the hound keeper. Right now, she just needed to worry about staying alive. 

The next time she opened her door, she was surprised to find herself staring back into two wide, blue eyes.

"I didn't realize that you were also clairvoyant," Prince Tullvomm said, and lowered his raised hand. He must have been about to knock when she opened the door.

"I'm not," she rushed to respond, "I was just on my way to the kennels, Prince Tullvomm."

Dal was achingly aware of the guards that stood at her door, listening to their conversation.

"Right. I have something to discuss with you, might I accompany you?"

"Of course, Prince."

She was pleased when she didn't visibly cringe when the Prince tucked her hand into the crook of his arm. He stared at her openly, not seeming to care that the guards could see the raw emotion on his face.

Her potion had really done its work on him.

When they'd made it out of the castle, he finally spoke again.

"How are you doing, Miss Peppercorn?"

"I am well, Prince Tullvomm."

He cast a small glance at her, and she wanted to recoil away. She chastised herself. If she was going to ever accomplish the mission her mother had set out for her, she was going to need to be less prickly towards the Prince. 

"I would be better if I saw you more often," she said, the words feeling thick on her tongue, but sounding surprisingly normal.

The Prince smiled, his blue eyes glittering at her confession. She tried not to hate herself for it.