Page 97 of The Prince and His Stolen Throne
I opened the compact and said, “I seek an audience with Princess Angelica Calamitous.”
We waited a few minutes. The mirror only reflected my own image back at me.
“It didn’t work—” I started to close it, only to stop when the reflection changed.
Dark brown lips and the bottom half of one tusk appeared in the mirror. Then the image shifted to a large, black eye. The eye blinked, showcasing long and delicate lashes. A loud voice shouted, “Hello? Who is this?”
I looked around at the others, too baffled to answer him immediately. Fitz mouthed “tell them”, so I told them. “My name is Trey. I’m looking forAngelica.”
“Dirk, dearest, I believe that’s for me.” Angelica’s usually acidic voice was now sweet enough to use in your coffee.
“Here you go, Your Highness,” Dirk replied and passed the mirror.
Angelica’s face appeared in the reflection. There were bars behind her, confirming she was in a dungeon cell. Half of her long golden hair was braided, and after a few seconds, a strong pair of brown hands slipped through the bars and began braiding the other half. “As you can see, I’ve been captured.”
“We figured.”
“Yetnoneof you look concerned.” Her lips pressed into a displeased line. “You could at least pretend that my absence bothers you.”
“Only if you want us to lie.”
She scowled. “You know, Trey, the orcs have beenverykind to me since my arrival.” To prove her point, she picked up a plump, ripe strawberry and bit into it. Red juice stained her lips. “I can’t guarantee the same will be true for you. Isn’t that right, Dirk?”
“The master asked us to treat you with hospitality,” Dirk replied promptly. “He hasn’t given us any orders for the other champions.”
I rubbed a hand down my face. That sounded like something the old man had probably said sarcastically, forgetting that orcs had their own version of ‘hospitality.’ Their culture centered around fighting, and they wanted their opponents in peak condition. That included feeding them well and providing them comfortable accommodations.
Fitz took the mirror from me and shouted into it, “Weareglad to see you safe, Angelica, but can you—”
“Fitz, if you continue shouting at me, I will be forced to stuff this mirror under my pillow,” Angelica snapped.
He blinked owlishly, then cleared his throat and said at a more normal volume. “Sorry. How many people are guarding you?”
“I can’t answer that.”
“You mean you don’t know, or …”
“If I answer that, they will addmoreguards,” she explained through bared teeth. “This obviously isn’t a private conversation, Fitz.”
I looked over Fitz’s shoulder to ask, “Dirk?”
The hands braiding Angelica’s hair paused. A large head landed on her shoulder. “Yes?”
“What information are you willing to share with us?”
Deep furrows formed in his brow as he considered. “We’re in the dungeon.”
“Where is the dungeon?”
“In the lair.”
I pinched my thigh, trying to keep a straight face. “Do you know anything about an anchor?”
He grinned and nodded eagerly. “Anchors hold ships in place.”
Wrong question. “Do you know anything about the curse?”
“It made the trees grow big and fast.”
