After a restless night, guards escorted me up out of the depths of the dungeon before Lars arrived. I did wonder if I’d ever see him again. He hadn’t been a bad guy. His past might’ve been littered with some shit, but he’d been decent to me and the information he’d provided had been valuable.
I was absolutely self-conscious when I walked into what had to be the damn throne room while in my kilt-covered swim trunks, towel, and the blankets I’d just stolen from the dungeon cot. I felt like a smudge on an otherwise pristine white wall.
Aside from massive white marble columns and floors, ceilings tall enough to make a three-story building in here, and a glittering silver throne at the other end of the room, there were also at least twenty people standing to either side of the dais in some of the finest of old-timey fashion. They made me think of Shakespeare and Queen Elizabeth I. Men and womenboth had ridiculous starched linen collars circling their necks. The women had those things under their skirts that made their hips stick out on either side, and the men had on stockings and heels. Lots of gold and huge jewels, furs, and yes, all of it was encrusted with snow and ice. Was that normal here? Or the result of the curse clinging to everything and everyone?
And then there was the prince. He sat diagonally on his throne, legs crossed, and leaning on an armrest. He had on a skin-tight pair of leggings the same snowy color of his skin, a blousy top that fell off one shoulder, and ankle boots that might’ve been made of ice. The icicles of his hair looked particularly sharp today.
He held a long staff with a large round bauble on the end, all of which seemed to be made of snow and ice. Was it a princely prop meant to intimidate, or something he hit people with when he was displeased? Judging by the frown on his frosty face, it could go either way.
“Your Highness,” I said with a tip of my head. Was I supposed to bow? He wasn’tmyprince after all.
He surveyed me with pale blue eyes, the frown not easing at all. “Ask your questions.”
For a moment, my mind whirled. I had so many questions!
“What is your name?” the man standing closest to the prince asked. He wore navy blue that really showed where the weird frost clung to his clothes.
Ah. The prince hadn’t been talking tome. I was here for an interrogation. Got it.
I settled into my role for the moment. “Milo Hawkins.”
“Mister Hawkins,” he said with a smile, “I am Lord Esteban Badru, one of the prince’s advisors.” He gestured to his right and left like everyone else was also an advisor. I supposed it was a good thing that the prickly little prince wasn’t running things on his own. “We would like to discuss how you came to be here.”
“Yeah, of course.” I pulled the blankets tighter around me, wishing for the millionth time that I’d worn jeans for my hike yesterday.
“Where were you before you found yourself on the prince’s breakfast table?”
I glanced at the prince, but he was studiously inspecting his fingernails. There was a touch of pink to his cheeks. Was he remembering the view up my kilt?
I refocused on Lord Badru. “I was hiking the Porcupine Mountains in Upper Michigan with three friends.”
“Is that some kind of sacred location for humans?”
“Not that I’m aware of, no.”
“And yet there was a ring.”
I squinted at him. “Are rings usually in sacred sites?”
Another man clicked his tongue. “They used to be.”
“Well, sorry, but it was just a ring of wildflowers and big rocks. And now I’m wondering if the rocks weren’t there in an attempt to keep people out.”
The testy dude opened his mouth, but Badru held out a hand to him, and he shut his mouth again.
“Our king made the rings,” Badru said, “so they would have been of natural elements indigenous to the area. That there were mountain rocks and wildflowers both could be significantin some way.”
“But we can’t ask him because he’s been imprisoned.”
“Correct.”
I took advantage and switched our roles. “I wasn’t alone out there. Is it possible that, if I fell through the ring to land here, that my friends might’ve done the same but landed in another court?”
Badru shrugged. “There is no way for us to know.”
“You don’t communicate with the other courts?”
“No one can cross?—”
