After Marion’s story, she wasn’t sure what she was expecting. A bitter, weather-worn exile, perhaps, or a smug, spoiled prince enjoying his triumphant return. Whatever she’d expected, the man standing on the dais was nothing like it. He was, however, undoubtedly a prince. Tall and handsomely dressed in a dark-blue coat, he projected the confidence of someone used to being obeyed. A waterfall of golden hair hung down his back, swaying gently as he bowed low to the crowd. His fine-featured face was almost feminine in its beauty, and Miranda swallowed despite herself. He certainly didn’t look like someone who’d spent the last ten years exiled in the desert.
The golden prince looked out over the sea of people, a benevolent and humble expression on his lovely face. He held up his hands in a welcoming gesture. Miranda could almost feel the crowd leaning forward to drink him in as he began to speak.
“Citizens of Mellinor!” His voice rang out through the enraptured room. “I come before you as a criminal and an exile. Many have asked me how, seeing this, I come to stand before you today, and so, first, before you all, I must confess. Eleven years ago, I was banished for being born a wizard, in accordance with the ancient law. Yet, despite this, and because of the deep love I bear this country, for the past eight years I have disobeyed my father’s order and lived among you. For Mellinor’s sake, I have lived nameless, a pauper among paupers. I was here four years ago when my younger brother, Henrith, took the throne, and I cheered him in the streets alongside you, without jealousy or malice. Until yesterday, I was content to live forgetting the duty I was born to and denying the curse that took my crown if that was what was needed to stay here, in my home. But yesterday, when I heard of the atrocious crime that had been committed, not just against the throne of Mellinor, but against my own flesh and blood, I could stay silent no more.”
Renaud leaned forward, his ringing voice heavy with contempt. “You have heard by now that the wizard thief Monpress, wanted throughout the Council Kingdoms for a list of crimes too long to read here, has kidnapped our king. This crime must not go unanswered.”
A great cry rose up at this, and Renaud leaned into it, letting it grow. When the noise reached a fevered pitch, Renaud threw out his arms, and silence fell like a knife.
When he spoke again, his words were choked with sorrow. “My friends, I come to you with no expectations, no pleas, nothing but the offer of my service. It was my wizardry that forced this burden upon my younger brother. Let it be my wizardry that ends it. As I was once your prince, I beg you now, let me face this criminal and help save my brother, the only family I have left. Let me serve him as I could not serve you, and I swear to you, I swear on my life that Mellinor will have her king again!”
He threw his fists in the air, and the crowd erupted. The nobles around Miranda clapped and cheered, but their polite noise was drowned out by the crowd in the hall, who hadn’t seen such drama in years, if ever. Even the somberly dressed masters were milling about looking impressed despite themselves, and some of the younger ones were cheering just as loudly as the servants.
Marion bounced up and down on her toes. “Oh, isn’t it exciting?”
“Quite.” Miranda scowled. Something about Renaud’s smile as he shook the waiting masters’ hands didn’t sit well with her. Marion gave her a quizzical look, but Miranda had already begun elbowing her way through the well-dressed crowd.
She ran to catch up. “Lady! Where are you going?”
“To hold him to his words,” Miranda said, pushing past a pair of old ladies waving their lacy handkerchiefs at the prince. “He says he wants to help, so I’m going to make him give me that note.”
Marion shrank from the nasty looks they were getting, but before she could start apologizing, a boy in page’s livery popped out of the crowd right beside Miranda.
“Lady Spiritualist,” he said, bowing nervously. “Lord Renaud wishes to meet you right away.”
“Well,” Miranda said. “That saves some trouble. Lead on.”
The page turned and led them away from the crowd to a small door just off the back half of the main throne room. This opened into a small, richly decorated parlor. As soon as they were inside, the page vanished back into the crowd, letting the door close softly behind him.
“Well,” Miranda said, dropping into one of the silk couches, “that was all very neat. We were swept up and tucked away before we could cause trouble.” She glanced at Marion, who was still standing by the door, looking slightly dazed. “Your Renaud seems to have gained quite a bit of influence in a very short time for a banished wizard prince. His speech wasn’t that good.”