Chapter 8
Disgust of a princess:
Not a single ruler should have blades in a dungeon.
Or claws.
Are we all nothing but beasts?
“Your Royal Highness, Queen Mikko is requesting your and Princess Trixie’s presence in the dungeon,” The caster guard said and stared at the ground from where he bowed deeply. “Her Royal Highness says it is urgent.”
King Traevon sighed and stood, brushing grass off his breeches. “Please inform her we’ll be there momentarily.” My king waited until the caster guard rushed away before looking at me. “I will help you down there. Do not speak until you are spoken to.”
“I am feeling marginally better.” I groaned and wiped at my face. “I’m not positive I can walk straight, though.”
Father snorted and helped me to stand, tossing my left arm over his shoulder. “Your speech returned to normal fifteen minutes ago. What you say is still subject to interpretation.”
“I am not that bad now.” I leaned heavily on my father, barely able to move my legs as we traipsed inside the castle and down a hall. “I merely said that you could stand to have your crown removed before it permanently becomes imbedded in your head like the original shifter’s was.”
King Traevon chuckled under his breath, leading me to a dark wooden door that looked fairly ominous with the caster guards standing on each side of it…and it glowed purple. “Precisely so, my heir. And to anyone else that would have been a death threat.”
“Oh.” I blinked. “I did not mean it as such. I am truly worried that your skull will have a lasting indention if you wear the crown all the time, despite our healing capabilities. It seems like something the Fae would curse us with.”
My king nodded to the caster guard when he opened the door for us. And we started the long process of climbing down into the dark recesses of the dungeon, taking the steps slowly so I didn’t trip over my own feet. The iron sconces on the rock walls lit our way through the gloom. King Traevon murmured quietly, “Just try to keep your thoughts to yourself right now until your brain is fully functioning again.”
“Quite so.” I sniffed down my nose at him. “I shall endeavor not to threaten the other rulers. It is not the time for them to die right now.”
Father cursed. “Trixie.Mouth shut.”
Scowling at him, I snapped my fangs in his direction.
“Bloody Fairy, I’ll have so many apologies to give after this.” King Traevon tightened his arm around my waist when I wobbled at the bottom of the stairs. “I hope to Fae fuck what she needs is important.”
I hummed a ditty as we trekked down the musty hallways, nodding my head regally to one and all of the caster guards we passed that were watching over cell doors. The guards appeared mighty interested in us as we walked by, apparently not appreciating my fine singing voice, their expressions confounded.
“Trixie, pick a different song.” Father grunted.
I lifted a brow. “Why?”
“The one you are singing is not appropriate.” Emerald eyes just like mine flicked in my direction, humor and mortification alike lighting his gaze. “It is a bit too…carnal.”
My forehead crinkled in thought. “Oh! I know the perfect one.”
So I began anew with a lively ditty.
King Traevon choked on a laugh, but merely muttered, “Fae, help me.”
With no more complaints given, I continued on.
“Here we are,” Father grumbled and maneuvered us into a clean cell on the left. He ground his teeth together and stated with resignation, “Now, I see what the fuss was about.”
“Louies!” I shouted happily and threw my free arm out to the air. “It is so great to see you all.” I beamed at the four gremlins. “I have missed your unforgettable, green faces.”
The Misfits waved grandly. Except for one.
Queen Mikko’s brown-mist eyes stared at me in amusement. “Princess Trixie, I’m glad to see you’re…well.”
I pointed a finger at her. “My father told me I couldn’t threaten anyone right now. I’m trying to obey him. Do not try to trick me.”
