Page 84 of The Prince and His Stolen Throne
Concerned Parents Embark on a Quest
Cyril fiddled with the mirror’s enchantment, flitting through every reflective surface in his old rival’s lair, until he finally pinpointed the apprentice. The young man looked just as his wife had described: moonlight hair and midnight eyes. He had a delicate, refined appearance that suited a romantic villain. The stories told about him one day would sell millions.
He hadn’t noticed Cyril yet, too busy trying to wrangle imps to stay on task. The last few words of his orders whispered through the mirror, “Remember, you’re supposed to becleaningthe dungeons, which means no snacks.”
The imps groaned and hugged each other as they whined, “ButWiiiildee.”
“No buts. If I find any crumbs, I’m going to bake you both into pies.”
The imps squealed and giggled as they flew away, shoving each other about through the air and exclaiming, “No,you’rean apple pie. I’m obviously cherry!”
The apprentice walked past the mirror and paused, finally noticing the watcher. His hands twitched to his lowered hood, an instinct to hide his face from a potential enemy, before settling at his side. “Good evening.”
Cyril bowed his head in greeting. “It’s good to see each other face to face. Do you know who I am?” The shadows remained dense behind him, hiding his office.
“The Prince of Shadows,” Wilde replied, using Cyril’s most prominent title while leaving the rest unsaid. The young man bowed and murmured, “I am at your service, my dark liege.”
A genuine smile spread across Cyril’s lips. What lovely manners this apprentice had. Certainly not a skill Brutus had taught him. “Exactly what I like to hear.” Cyril settled into his seat, propping one ankle on the opposite knee. “I’ve heard much about your recent plot.”
“Not mine,” Wilde corrected. “My master’s.”
Cyril’s lip curled in derision. “I know your master better than you do, boy. If I pulled out every one of his threads in this plot, the tapestry would remain unchanged. All its success belongs toyou.”
Wilde’s lashes lowered but he said nothing.
Perhaps he needed a demonstration of Cyril’s knowledge. “The part where you impersonated the Good Wizard particularly impressed me. Not the work of a common minion, or even a common apprentice. You have a deliciously dark future ahead of you, Wilde.” Here, he paused dramatically, giving the praise time to sink in before undercutting it. “But not with Brutus as your master. A plot like this could earn you a true title—one of many for a man of your talents—but he won’t give you a single shred of credit, will he?”
“I don’t need credit,” Wilde replied, the ever-dutiful apprentice.
Anticipation buzzed through Cyril as he imagined this young man working with him, inheriting his titles one day. He tapped his fingers on his knee to release some of his building energy. “Whatdoyou need? What has theLord of Grimnight,” he sneered as he spoke the stolen title, “offered you?”
Again, the apprentice said nothing.
“Money? Power? The thrill of conquest? Whatever it is, I can give it to you tenfold. Come to my side. Become my apprentice. I will give you more than Brutus could ever imagine.”
Wilde stared steadily back at Cyril. “You can’t give me what I want.” With a wave of his hand, the spell cut out.
Even if Cyril tried to contact him again, he knew Wilde would block all his efforts. The fact hecouldproved he would be a worthy successor.
“He’s in love,” Cyril said aloud. The shadows surrounding him dispersed, revealing the eager audience who had listened to every word.
Brendon’s eyebrows rose in surprise. “Why do you say that?”
“Oh honey,” Lucinda murmured with a coy giggle that couldn’t completely overshadow the cackle underneath. “Isn’t it obvious? Evil mages all have their motivations. Ambition, revenge, competition—all these goals can be achieved with either money, power, or both. Onlylovecould explain why these don’t appeal to him.”
“Butwhois he in love with?” Rick asked.
“That’s the trouble,” Cyril said. “He’s not the type to pour his heart out to an old man. However, we do have an expert right here.” He gestured to his wife, who blushed in appreciation.
Lucinda tapped her finger on her chin as she considered the options. “It must be someone involved with the plot. The likeliest choice is one of the champions.”
“If he loves them, why would he drag them into a dangerous quest?” Brendon demanded.
“Your husband locked you in a magic tower, and everything worked out for you,” she replied. “It certainly isn’t uncommon for evil mages to view kidnapping and imprisonment as a necessary part of a courtship.”
Thinking of their own courtship, Cyril scooped up his wife’s hand and pressed a firm kiss to her knuckles. She giggled again, her eyes darkening with desire. For a moment, they were the only people in the world.
Until Rick coughed to get their attention. “What do you suggest now? We can’t simply sit back and let his evil courtship playout. Our children and our kingdoms are at stake.”
