She looked Basil over from head to toe—he couldn't be in either category.
“I was once the head of Queen Estella’s personal guard, thank you very much. That said, I know for a fact that was Princess Esther’s magic—and her aura disappeared from the castle. And you sent the palace guards away. What is this about orcs with warts?”
Lucy had been told not to judge a book by its cover. She always did, though. She only looked at books if the cover caught her eye. Basil's book did not match his cover, though it explained why everyone in the palace called him ‘Sir Basil.’
“I told you everything I know.”
“Lucy, we’re on the same side.”
“What side?”
“The princess’s side. I am loyal to her.”
“You’re telling me, if you caught Esther in the act of running away like I did, you would’ve let her go?”
“I would have followed her.”
“What?” Lucy laughed in disbelief, but stopped when she met his eyes. “You’re serious?”
“I promised the late Queen that I would keep the princess safe.”
“Even more reason you would have stopped her.”
“Keeping her safe doesn’t end at her physical well-being.”
“What are you saying?”
“You read so much, yet you’re so dense,” he sighed, rubbing the bridge of his nose. “When the Queen gave her life for her daughter, the King lost his courage. You know the saying, ‘if you love something, set it free?’”
“You’re calling the King a coward?” Lucy asked, awestruck.
“Yes. King Arcturus became too afraid to let his daughter have freedom. Not after she died once—”
“Died?” Lucy cut him off.
“Tale for another time. Moral of the story: the King’s love became suffocating due to fear. He thought he was protecting his daughter, but he was breaking her. I don’t think it could ever be fixed if she stayed in that environment.”
“What? No! Story now! What do you mean died?” Lucy threw a pillow at him. It hit his chest and thudded to the floor louder than expected.
“You need to tell me your story now. We need a plan for when they realize she’s missing. Did you think of that?”
She had not. Which, in hindsight, was probably a problem.
Lucy burst from Esther’s chambers with a shriek that could rival a howler monkey in a turf war. She had gargled salt water beforehand—purely for optimal shriek range.
“The princess is missing!” she cried, lifting her skirts and sprinting down the halls. Falling wasn’t in her plan, but scraped knees added authenticity to the scene.
She skidded to a halt and slammed open the double doors to the King’s study. She’d always wanted to do that. The echo alone was worth at least a six out of ten on the dramatic scale.
“What is the meaning of this?” Prince Lupin demanded, dark circles shadowing his amber eyes. He and the King were poring over documents in the overly decorated study. Did they really need a stuffed lion head staring at them like that?
“Princess Esther is missing!” Lucy dropped to her knees and let the tears flow. She made sure to apply extra mascara and eyeliner for dramatic effect.
“What?” King Arcturus thundered. “She was confirmed in her quarters by none other than you!” He slammed his fist onto the table, sending ink spilling across hopefully unimportant documents.
“It is as you say,” Lucy’s voice cracked. She didn’t have to fake that part—she hadn’t accounted for just how terrifying the king could be. “She was exhausted after her magic lesson—where she successfully dried a towel—and so she turned in for bed after a relaxing rose bath.”
“Yet now she’s missing?” Prince Lupin grabbed her chin, forcing her gaze upward.
