Page 63 of Kingdom of Locks

Containing his impatience with difficulty through this careful process, Amell received the scroll with a word of thanks. “And you’ll work on that artifact idea? The one to counteract restraining magic?”

“I will indeed,” Bartholomew assured him gravely.

The afternoon had worn away by the time Amell left the guild, but he didn’t think the market would be cleared out altogether. Enjoying being once again in motion, he walked briskly through the streets, taking it all in with new eyes. Was it only a matter of days since he’d reflected that the bustling city was a place of frustration and restriction? He tried to see it through Honeysuckle’s eyes, imagining how it would look to him if he’d spent his entire life in one room.

Suddenly the marketplace was a wonderland of opportunities, a veritable whirlwind of sensations. The tantalizing smells, the shouts of children running between the legs of the market-goers, the sight of so many vivid colors.

It was beautiful.

Amell was lucky to acquire a cheesecake from a baker’s cart so late in the day, and he didn’t mind paying the higher price he knew was only quoted to the nobility. Some children ran past, laughing, and one accidentally knocked Amell’s leg.

“Sorry, My Lord,” the urchin squeaked out, clearly not recognizing the prince.

“It’s all right,” smiled Amell. He spotted the other children, congregating near the sweets stall next door. “Here.” He handed the merchant several coins. “One for everyone.” He smiled as the children squealed, shoving the treats into their mouths with a speed that suggested no such bounty was secure until eaten.

“And a few for me,” Amell added, handing the merchant another coin. “Wrapped, please.”

Once he’d deposited the parcel in the paper box given him by the baker, he wandered on, collecting anything that caught his eye for Honeysuckle. By the time he returned to the castle, he barely had time to change his raiment before he would be expected at the dining hall. Which suited him just fine. Less time for mind-numbing conversation.

To his surprise, when he left his rooms to head toward dinner, he found Furn waiting for him.

“Furn,” he exclaimed. “I thought I sent you home.”

“You did, Your Highness,” Furn acknowledged. “But I wanted to check whether there was anything else you needed tonight.”

“No, consider it a long overdue night off,” Amell smiled. “I’m hoping to ride for the prison again at first light, though.”

Furn nodded. “I’ll be ready, Your Highness.”

A laugh sounded from around the corner ahead, and they rounded it to see a tall and graceful figure leaning on the arm of a well-dressed young man, and laughing at something he’d just said.

“Tora!” Amell called, genuinely pleased to see his sister. “Did you miss me?” His gaze passed to Tora’s companion in some surprise. “Ah, and Lord…My Lord,” he said hastily, the man’s name escaping him. Amell recognized him as one of the more ridiculous members of his own generation among court. Even for a Fernedellian, the young nobleman dressed with rather astonishing flamboyance. His leggings were bright yellow, and his velvet doublet the color of a ripe plum. It was a somewhat startling combination.

“Your Highness,” the nobleman swept an elegant bow, “I rejoice at your safe return.”

“Uh…thank you,” said Amell blankly.

“You’ve been a truly impeccable companion, My Lord,” Tora said, casting a look up at the nobleman that was uncomfortably reminiscent of the manner of the scheming damsels Amell had been thinking about only that afternoon. “I look forward to further such walks.”

“Not as much as I do, Your Highness,” said the nobleman, a glint in his eye that Amell didn’t quite like. He felt Furn shift beside him as the man lifted Tora’s hand and pressed his lips to it for an unnecessarily long moment.

“Yes, well, thank you, My Lord,” Amell said flatly. “I’ll escort my sister to dinner.”

“Of course, Your Highness,” said the nobleman, bowing again and prancing away down the corridor.

Tora turned to the pair of them, her expression bright and entirely unabashed. “Amell, Furn. I’m so glad to see you back. It’s been dull here without you.”

“Not dull enough, apparently,” Amell said grimly. “Tora, what on earth were you doing with that fool? He was utterly ridiculous.”

“Ah, there’s no accounting for taste, Amell,” said Tora brightly. “And he pays me the most extravagant compliments.”

Her eyes were twinkling in a way Amell knew well, and he frowned at her. “You’re up to something, Tora. What is it?”

She just laughed at him. “I don’t know what you mean.” She turned to Amell’s guard. “How was your journey, Furn? I hope my brother isn’t making you act as his manservant at dinner again.”

“No, Your Highness,” said Furn quietly. “I was merely bidding His Highness goodnight.” He bent in a slightly stiff bow. “And to you as well, of course.” And without another word, he turned on his heel and strode away, toward the castle’s distant entrance.

“Well,” said Amell, staring after him. “That was a little abrupt.” He turned back to his sister, his eyes narrowing. “What was all that nonsense before, Tora? I don’t think I’ve ever seen you flirt before in my life. Why would you choose that idiot?”

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