Page 122 of The Prince and His Stolen Throne

Dad’s hands subtly slipped out of the ropes binding him. He kept them low as he turned to Kit, blocking his freed hands from view.

I had no idea how they got here or what their plan was, but I could buy them some time. To distract the minions, I needed to lean into the role of the evil mage’s son again, but I hesitated. It’d been difficult to let go of Treasure Banes even when I wasn’t staring his father in the face. “I fucked up,” I whispered.

“Well,” the orc said slowly, face soft with sympathy, “we’ll get these new prisoners locked up and then we’ll—”

Kit tackled them mid-offer-of-help. The orc was a foot taller than Kit and several pounds heavier, but he hadn’t expected one of his docile prisoners to suddenly fight back. He yelped in surprise and barely kept his footing as he instinctively wrapped one arm around Kit’s waist. Theystumbled to the side and their momentum spun them in a circle, waltzing the pair down the hall.

Dad pulled a pouch from his pack and poured a heavy dose of purple dust into his hand. When the other two orcs lunged at him, he tossed it into their faces.

The orcs cried out in shock as the dust entered their eyes and noses and raised their hands to block any further assaults. After a few seconds, their stances relaxed, and their hands fell to their sides. They stared at Dad with blank eyes.

“Unlock the cell,” Dad ordered.

The orcs’ movements were stiff as they patted down their pants’ pockets, but they didn’t come up with any keys.

Dad cursed, then changed his order, “Go to sleep.”

The orcs lay down in the middle of the hallway, tucked their hands under their heads, and obediently closed their eyes.

I watched the whole scene in shock. “Why do you have fairy dust?” The magical powder could be used to enchant objects to follow commands, but as Dad had just demonstrated, it could also command people.

Dad grinned and tucked the pouch away. “Comes in handy from time to time.”

His cavalier attitude about taking away someone’s autonomy reminded me about the rumors that my dad was evil. Maybe he would understand my choices, even if everyone else saw me as the villain’s pawn.

Father never took his eyes off me, even as Dad untied the ropes binding his wrists. “Are you alright, Trey? Did they hurt you?”

“No. I …” The geas had been broken. I could finally tell him the truth.

What would he do once he knew I wasn’t his son?

I pictured his face crumpling in despair. Every lie I’d told him reflected in his eyes as he tried and failed to think of what to do with me. Maybe he would stay long enough for me to explain. Or maybe he’d walk away, leaving me locked up in here like the others had. Like I deserved.

Tears stung my eyes as fear and regret burrowed into my heart, refusing to be dislodged. “I really, really fucked up.”

“What happened?” Father asked. “Where are the others?”

I latched onto the second question, stalling for time, grasping these last few moments of his fatherly concern. “Upstairs somewhere, trying to break the curse.”

He nodded. “We can’t help you break the curse, but I think we can help you get back to them so you can work together.”

They don’t want my help.“Youthink?” I asked, brow furrowing in confusion.

Dad sneered. “The Good Wizard’s rules of engagement. The quest only counts for the Kingdom Defense Spell if thecurrentgeneration of royal champions completes it. We can’t break the curse or fight the evil mage, but wecanfight his minions. The apprentice is a gray area.”

I flinched at the mention of Wilde. “You know about the apprentice?”

“Fuck him.”

Probably shouldn’t mention that I already have.

“Kit, stop wrestling the orc and get the keys,” Father called down the hall.

“Like it’s that easy! He’sgood.” Frustration and delight mixed in Kit’s voice as another heavy thump followed that pronouncement. They were obviously having fun fighting the minion.

One last grunt came from down the hall, and then footsteps as Kit jogged toward us.

“Got ‘em!”