“There’s a hot spring under the Hallows Palace,” he says with wonder.
There is? Now I want to visit it too.
“My sister has always been drawn to the moonlight and stars, more so than the blue skies and chirping birds.”
“I can do dates under the stars.”
“But don’t over script it. She enjoys a small sense of adventure. Oh, and dress less stuffy.”
“What is less stuffy?”
“Not like you are a tempo away from proposing and whisking her off to a ball.”
It must be hard for him to understand, since he’s been conditioned his entire life to walk around like a Prince Charming on the verge of being crowned. That kind of life pressure must be difficult.
Silence stretches and I take the time to peer into each of the darkened cells filled with an array of different creatures. I wonder what they did to be dumped in the dungeon?
I flick a pebble against the bars, the metallic pings echoing around the room. I need to do something to pass the time.
“You want to play a game?” I ask Charming.
He snorts. “Not especially, but I guess it will pass the time.”
“The guy in the far left cell opposite us. The one with the overly dramatic mustache. What’s his crime?”
The guy in question glares at me.
Charming huffs. “Public disturbance for faulty facial hair?”
“Wrong,” the woman in the next cell declares. “He tried to marry a goose. It was a political alliance gone terribly wrong.”
The mustached prisoner groans.“For the last time, it was a swan!”
I wink at him. “That’s what they all say.”
Charming groans. “We are in actual danger, and you’re making jokes?”
I shrug to no one in particular. “It’s my survival technique. What’s yours?”
Charming sighs. “Dramatic monologues give me comfort.” Figures that he prefers the sound of his own voice to anything else. “How did you end up here?” Charming eventually asks. Now I must be dreaming, if he’s asking about something other than himself or how he can win over my sister. Still, I’m not about to spill my tangled mess to him.
“I was on my way to the mirror when a girl ambushed Eron and me. She knocked him out before disappearing through my mirror and took over my body.”
“This imposter is with Gwyneth?”
Do I sense a level of protectiveness? Maybe there’s hope for this prince yet. “That’s right.”
“What’s her name?” he asks.
“Malice.” An ominous chorus of hisses from the other barred caverns makes the hairs on my arms lift. That being said, I’m not here for the vague disapproval of Malice. “If someone has something to say, then they should speak clearly,” I demand.
Shadows pool into the corner of my cell, the inky being emerging like a nightmare. “Did... did someone say Malice?” it rasps, its voice somewhere between a wheeze and a laugh.
I press my back against the cold, unyielding wall as something long and impossibly dark slinks into the faint light of the single torch. It’s like a dragon had a baby with a shadow monster. Its mouth pulls up, revealing gleaming needle-sharp teeth. I swallow and force down the fear trying to gain control of my veins. I remind myself this dragon is tiny compared to Theo and Arthur. Both of which I survived, one of which I kept.
The creature’s golden eyes gleam as it licks its lips.
“You know Malice?” I ask, impressed with how steady my voice sounds.
