Page 64 of Kingdom of Locks

She sighed, looking suddenly quite dejected. “You have seen me flirt, Amell. And the fact that you think you haven’t is utterly depressing.” She slipped her hand into his arm, steering them toward the dining hall. “I chose that idiot, as you so politely phrase it, because he’s perfectly safe. His family is all to pieces, and he’s quite ineligible, so Mother won’t get any grand ideas.”

“Were you so desperate to flirt with someone?” Amell demanded.

Tora winced, even as she let out a reluctant laugh. “Must you use the word desperate? Be kind to your old sister, up here on my shelf.”

Amell nudged her, laughing himself. “Now you’re being ridiculous. But I still don’t understand what you’re up to.”

Tora just smiled. “I have my reasons, little brother. Now, I want to hear about your time at the prison.”

They’d reached the dining hall by this time, however, and their conversation was suspended. Amell hadn’t especially been looking forward to the meal—he’d never much enjoyed sitting around talking. But even the private family dinner took on a new light in his eyes. He couldn’t help but reflect that it was pleasant to have three members of his family, instead of being restricted to one companion all the time. King Bern had also returned, as expected, and most of the meal was occupied with his account of the doings at the prison, for the benefit of the queen and princess.

“Amell was involved in the capture of the most recent two fugitives,” he added toward the end of the meal, nodding at his son. “The captain said he acquitted himself well.”

“So it was worth camping out over there all this time,” Tora grinned.

Amell shook his head, still rattled whenever he thought about the incident. “The captain overstated my achievements,” he said. “I was more foolish than heroic. And I almost got Furn killed.”

“Goodness,” said Queen Pietra mildly. “Don’t do that, Amell. I don’t know how we’d replace that man. He has the patience of a saint.”

“What do you mean, Furn almost got killed?” Tora demanded, ignoring her mother’s light words. “Is he all right?”

“Yes, he’s fine,” Amell assured her. “But only because the enchanters got their shielding magic up in time. He dove right in front of me when the prisoners were attacking.”

“I’ll see him commended for exemplary service,” said King Bern, as placid as his wife. He looked up from his plate to see both of his children frowning at him, and raised an eyebrow. “Why do you look so outraged? That is his job, you realize.”

“Yes, that’s what Furn said, too,” Amell acknowledged, troubled. “I’m not sure how I feel about being someone who has people employed to die in my place.”

“Well, you’d best get used to the feeling before ascending the throne,” King Bern said briskly. “I for one think I will retire early tonight. The warden’s quarters, although perfectly acceptable, are not what I would call comfortable.”

“Yes, I’ll do the same,” Amell commented distractedly. “I’m planning to head back at first light.”

The king raised an eyebrow. “So early?”

“I have a task to see through, Father,” said Amell with dignity.

King Bern didn’t quite manage to hide his smile as he rose, and it did nothing for Amell’s confidence. The queen left with her husband, and Amell found himself alone with Tora.

“I can’t believe Furn almost died,” she said repentantly. “And there I was plaguing him earlier with my stupid jokes.”

“What stupid…oh, you mean Lord What’s-His-Name?” Amell said. “I wouldn’t worry about it, Tora. I mean, you were behaving a bit embarrassingly, but I doubt Furn even noticed, let alone felt plagued by it.”

Tora scowled at him, apparently not softened by this reassurance. “If you’re in a disagreeable mood, I think I’ll retire early as well.” And she flounced out of the room, leaving Amell feeling bewildered.

“Sisters,” he muttered, heading for the library before seeking his own rest. It had been some time since he’d read a storybook, but he still remembered perfectly where they were kept. And perhaps in the morning, he’d visit a dawn market and pick up some fresh flowers.

Not honeysuckles. Something rare and beautiful, like the poorly named girl in the tower.

Chapter Fourteen

Aurelia gave the broom one final, vigorous flourish. “There,” she said, satisfied. “It’s the cleanest it’s ever been.”

“Somehow I doubt Prince Amell will notice the floors,” commented Mama Gail from where she sat with her mending.

Aurelia sent her an innocent look. “Who said anything about Prince Amell?”

Her mother didn’t even grace that question with a reply. “How do you feel after a night’s sleep?” she asked instead. “Does your hair feel different? I don’t understand the process, but it seemed to me like Cyfrin pulled a lot of magic into your core last night.”

“Did it seem that way?” Aurelia asked absently. “I didn’t really notice.”

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