Page 2 of The Desert Prince's Jewel
Twin, pale towers loom overhead like desert dunes shadowed by the sun, bisected by windowed terraces. They’re nothing special, like any other drab human hotel. However, the air ismuch chillier than I am used to in the land of Oregon, carrying the scent of a recent rainstorm.
I pull my windbreaker, as the shopkeeper called it, tighter around my trembling body. The rumors swirling around the property are intriguing enough to keep me rooted to the spot. They’re so fascinating, in fact, that I was forced to stop by. Well, if I’m being honest with myself, it’s my last shot.
Father did not react well to my demand to search for the jewel rather than slaughter my sisters and brethren, and the argument that ensued almost caused us to come to blows before his sickly body hacked up blood. Then, he was forced to retire for the night, carried away by the palace guards. After the royal physician checked on him, King Raj had to take a week away from his duties to recover.
Typical. Never minding his health, but always ready to blow up at a moment’s notice. I see more and more where I get my hot-headedness from as I grow older.
It was in the ensuing chaos that I was able to slip away with two of my closest bodyguards to recover the stone. The engagement Party of Crown Prince Frank of Niralen and environmental influencer Kaia Blue was a perfect excuse to gain permission from the council to leave our secluded kingdom, before word traveled to the scholar’s temple of my verbal battle with my father.
If word had traveled faster than I could slither to the scholar’s temple, my permission scroll would’ve been incinerated. The wedding was extravagant, and I easily boarded a commercial plane instead of my private jet afterward, given the fanfare. When I refused to return after Father caught wind of my escape, it wasn’t long before news reached me that I would soon be exiled. Being disowned would follow soon enough, which meant I’d have a literal target on my back.
I either come back to Thar as a hero or as a ghost. I’d prefer to sit on the throne someday, rather than have my bonedust discarded in the desert of my motherland, the fate of all Thar subjects, even traitors to the crown. They just don’t have regal funerals pyres to accompany their passage between realms.
Thinking of my father further sours my foul mood as I pass throngs of hotel guests. The evening slowly gives way to night as a veil of stars blankets Princedelphia, USA.
I can’t muster up the will to feel sorry for him, to mourn the living dead. Father will die if he continues to drown his sorrows, but our bloodline will not perish with him. I refuse to allow the Thar Desert Kingdom to descend into civil war.
But my leads ran cold as I worked my magical and mundane connections across the globe. Even the underlords of the Desert Empire haven’t offered any information of use, and they are well-connected with the criminal elites, able to pull off a heist of this magnitude.
That’s not entirely true,I muse, knowing a particular name has caught my attention.
As I’ve come to learn, Dolus is a thief of some renown, particularly interested in artwork. A shapeshifting little shit if you ask me, but nevertheless, he is capable.
But where is the why? The Viper’s Stone doesn’t seem to fit his M.O. I have no reason to suspect he worked without being the puppet of a wealthy backer, and I can’t think of a soul foolish enough to want it. The first thing the newly anointed crown prince or princess will do is hunt them down.
And my mother’s painting?Madness.At the end of the day, it’s a small, insignificant piece within her vast collection. So this heist feels personal, not a professional hit.The missing painting, in particular, feels like a critical piece of a scrambled puzzle.
Years ago, when I was a teen, a newly crowned prince, and a motherless son, her most famous work had been stolen. Itcaused a sensation, and the criminals were caught and brought to swift justice. In other words, they were killed on the spot, and their deaths were swept under the rug with copious amounts of money.
The whole thing was a blur to me, too overcome by grief and confusion to understand what was happening back then. But now, I’m older, and I hope wiser, and I can’t shake the feeling that the two incidents are connected.
Someone has a grudge against my family, not just an eye for pretty pieces of art worth a lot of money. And they stole that picture while in the museum to show that they could. To disrespect her in her grave a second time.
I clench my fists. This thief has a vendetta. I am ready to end this mysterious blood feud once and for all.
Therefore, I rule Dolus out, but only for now. And at the end of the day, I can’t go around chasing every interesting lead. I am a prince, not a casino, and a self-exiled one at that. My funds are dwindling, and my options are increasingly limited by the day.
So all the leads and dead ends I’ve encountered brought me here to this place, a hotel that harbors something extraordinary despite its ordinary appearance.
I hope to find a motive where there are secrets, since I have a sneaking suspicion that someone of royal blood plotted this coup. Our prospects are dismal, but I hold onto my stubborn hope, which I inherited from my mother.
“Ready, Rohan? Ready, Kunal?” I ask my guards as they flank me, a few feet away from the main entrance now.
They have been with me from the first time I breached my egg, older by five years, trained to die in my stead. Not that I’d ever let these lovable idiots meet their demise without me joining them, fighting and dying side by side.
“We’re ready, my prince,” they say in unison, and I sigh.
“Enough with that while we’re on the run,” I chide.
Rohan rolls his eyes with a smug smile, while Kunal frowns, tugging on his top knot, a nervous tick of his. There’s streaks of gray in his jet-black hair, giving him the appearance of a much older man. I remind myself to locate a pharmacy so he can ingest a calming elixir as soon as I can.
Like me, they’re both disguising their appearance, red and green eyes now a dull brown. Also, like me, some of their true nature still peeks out, like Kunal’s gray hairs, Rohan’s unusually sharp human ears, and my nearly golden eyes. No magic mask is perfect, especially when worn by novices. It’s not exactly in a naga’s nature to hide our true selves in a naga-ruled capital like Nagat, so we struggle to maintain a more human appearance in this human-majority city.
“You’ve never cared about formality,” Rohan whispers, cutting into my thoughts like a dao, practically drooling in the direction of a bitter aroma as he combs his closely cropped black hair with his claws. “’Tis a wonder you’ve survived as long as you have in the court, my…”
I glare at him half-heartedly before motioning for them to follow. We’ll work on dropping ‘my prince’ at a later date. It’s an improvement over your highness, but I wish they’d just call me by my name now that we’re all fugitives.
I incline my head towards the door and beckon them to follow me inside. The crowds thin out as some guests, I assume, who have already checked in, make their way to a 24/7 cafe across the plaza for a late-night caffeine rush. I probably deserve a shot of espresso, but I decide to grab a cup of coffee after figuring out how we’ll pay for the room.
