Chapter 13 Lucy
Lucy
How to perform a spectacular breakdown: hydrate for optimal tears.
The next morning, Lucy straightened her uniform and muttered, “You ready?” She was preparing herself for her best performance yet.
“No,” Basil grumbled. “I’ll be at my station. Please, don’t be too dramatic. It needs to look authentic.”
“I am never dramatic. If anything, you are—with how you slammed the door open with a ‘I know it’s you, Lucy.’ I swear, my soul left my body. I briefly saw my grandmother. May she rest in peace.”
“See? Dramatic. Stop it.” Basil rolled his eyes. Lucy stuck her tongue out. She hadn’t expected any allies—especially not Esther’s magic tutor.
The previous night had been a disaster of confessions and hastily-made plans.
“Please, explain to me why the Princess’s magic erupted in the rose garden. Along with your compliance in the matter,” Basil said, ripping the quilt off Lucy.
“I need a minute to get my story straight,” Lucy muttered. “And how did you know it was me?”
“I don’t need a story. I need the truth. Also, your aura is different from Princess Esther’s.”
“Marriage. Orc with Warts. Runaway Princess.” Lucy rattled off what she knew. “I thought only the highest-class aura knights and mages could sense aura.”
She looked Basil over from head to toe—he couldn't be in either category.
“I was once the head of Queen Estella’s personal guard, thank you very much. That said, I know for a fact that was Princess Esther’s magic—and her aura disappeared from the castle. And you sent the palace guards away. What is this about orcs with warts?”
Lucy had been told not to judge a book by its cover. She always did, though. She only looked at books if the cover caught her eye. Basil's book did not match his cover, though it explained why everyone in the palace called him ‘Sir Basil.’
“I told you everything I know.”
“Lucy, we’re on the same side.”
“What side?”
“The princess’s side. I am loyal to her.”
“You’re telling me, if you caught Esther in the act of running away like I did, you would’ve let her go?”
“I would have followed her.”
“What?” Lucy laughed in disbelief, but stopped when she met his eyes. “You’re serious?”
“I promised the late Queen that I would keep the princess safe.”
“Even more reason you would have stopped her.”
“Keeping her safe doesn’t end at her physical well-being.”
“What are you saying?”
“You read so much, yet you’re so dense,” he sighed, rubbing the bridge of his nose. “When the Queen gave her life for her daughter, the King lost his courage. You know the saying, ‘if you love something, set it free?’”
“You’re calling the King a coward?” Lucy asked, awestruck.
“Yes. King Arcturus became too afraid to let his daughter have freedom. Not after she died once—”
“Died?” Lucy cut him off.
“Tale for another time. Moral of the story: the King’s love became suffocating due to fear. He thought he was protecting his daughter, but he was breaking her. I don’t think it could ever be fixed if she stayed in that environment.”
“What? No! Story now! What do you mean died?” Lucy threw a pillow at him. It hit his chest and thudded to the floor louder than expected.
“You need to tell me your story now. We need a plan for when they realize she’s missing. Did you think of that?”
She had not. Which, in hindsight, was probably a problem.
Lucy burst from Esther’s chambers with a shriek that could rival a howler monkey in a turf war. She had gargled salt water beforehand—purely for optimal shriek range.
“The princess is missing!” she cried, lifting her skirts and sprinting down the halls. Falling wasn’t in her plan, but scraped knees added authenticity to the scene.
She skidded to a halt and slammed open the double doors to the King’s study. She’d always wanted to do that. The echo alone was worth at least a six out of ten on the dramatic scale.
“What is the meaning of this?” Prince Lupin demanded, dark circles shadowing his amber eyes. He and the King were poring over documents in the overly decorated study. Did they really need a stuffed lion head staring at them like that?
“Princess Esther is missing!” Lucy dropped to her knees and let the tears flow. She made sure to apply extra mascara and eyeliner for dramatic effect.
“What?” King Arcturus thundered. “She was confirmed in her quarters by none other than you!” He slammed his fist onto the table, sending ink spilling across hopefully unimportant documents.
“It is as you say,” Lucy’s voice cracked. She didn’t have to fake that part—she hadn’t accounted for just how terrifying the king could be. “She was exhausted after her magic lesson—where she successfully dried a towel—and so she turned in for bed after a relaxing rose bath.”
“Yet now she’s missing?” Prince Lupin grabbed her chin, forcing her gaze upward.
“As you say, my lord!” she cried, smudging the black makeup under her eyes for added effect.
Lupin looked so much like Esther that Lucy almost got comfortable and considered saying something very obscene—but no.
She was there on a mission. The prince and king were uptight.
Esther was fun. Lucy would have run away, too.
“Is there any knight in the castle who could track down Est—Princess Esther?”
Cue Basil.
“We haven’t had anyone in the castle with such a skill in over a decade,” Prince Lupin growled, dropping Lucy’s chin like it was a trivial thing.
Basil missed his cue.
“We must send out a search party,” the king said. “Call a guard to take this maid to the dungeon. We will extract answers from her.”
“If only,” Lucy tapped into her inner howler monkey, “there was an old man in the castle who could sense aura!”
She had no one to write to burn her super secret stash of books. Could she trust Basil to burn both Esther’s and hers?
“What is all this ruckus?” Basil entered.
“Sir Basil?” King Arcturus said. “Perfect timing. I am in need of your help. But first, summon guards to take this maid to the dungeons.”
Basil did not arrive exactly on cue.
“I am innocent, your majesty! Please take pity on this loyal, hard-working maid!” Lucy flailed dramatically.
“Let’s not be hasty. Why is Princess Esther’s personal maid being thrown in the dungeon?”
“Esther is missing,” Prince Lupin said, jaw ticking. Lucy appreciated his low voice. Her head was starting to ache from the king’s shouting. “This maid was the last to see her, supposedly. Now my sister is gone, and it must be tied to her magic lightning strike in the rose garden.”
Basil nodded thoughtfully. “I just reported to Captain Aldric that the magical residue in the garden does not match Princess Esther’s, nor anyone else in the castle. May I investigate her personal chambers?”
“Of course,” King Arcturus said calmly. Lucy felt a pang of guilt at the king’s somber expression but quickly flicked it away. It was his fault she ran away. How could he keep her locked up just to marry her off to an orc?
“The maid will accompany us. You can determine the validity of her story after my verdict.”
“My savior!” Lucy clasped her hands together and looked up at Basil adoringly. He returned a glare of pure disgust. Rude.
“Her aura is still strong in her chambers,” Basil said, standing in the center of the room. A broken mirror and messy bed added drama to the scene. It went against every fiber of Lucy’s sense of order not to tidy up—but Basil insisted it helped set the stage. She did smooth out the hair, though.
“Which means?” the king’s voice cracked.
“She was in her bed no more than three hours ago. I must conclude this maid is innocent.”
“My daughter…” The king’s eyes glistened, but he quickly composed himself. A heavy silence passed before he continued. “Do you have any insight as to her whereabouts, Sir Basil?”
“I can deduce she left of her own volition. There is a teleportation sigil drawn on the floor, by the mirror.” Basil had planted it the previous night. Not exactly a lie. They had only shifted the time and location, so Lucy couldn’t be blamed.
“Enough!” King Arcturus’s voice boomed, shocking Basil and Lucy straight. “I've patiently waited to see what ploy you were horribly acting out, but this is just laughable.”
“That is true,” Basil said flatly.
“You can't admit it that easily,” Lucy hissed.
“I know my daughter's magic. I assumed her maid was hiding one of Esther’s disasters again, so I left it be. But for her to have run away… never would I have thought.”
“It’s your fault,” Lucy interjected, irritation winning over respect. She shoved Esther’s letter at him.
She expected the King to get mad at her defiance, but instead, he looked stricken. Silence fell over the room, broken only by the sound of rapid heartbeats.
“Father, I will send an order to the most esteemed guilds and lead the search with the royal guard.”
“You can’t. I need you in Kraggmar. We need this alliance.”
“My sister is more important than an alliance,” Prince Lupin seethed.
If that were true, they wouldn’t have sold her off, Lucy thought.
“I have heard whispers of an alliance. At risk of being impertinent, may I ask the details?” Basil asked.
“No point in hiding anything now,” the King sighed. “Lupin will be traveling to Kraggmar to bond with Princess Arietta before their marriage after the Harvest Ball.”
Lucy and Basil didn’t need telepathy to know they were thinking the same thing. Their princess had jumped to conclusions and run away from a marriage that was not hers. If the room weren’t so tense, she would have laughed. That misunderstanding and rash reaction were on brand for Esther.
“The King is right. The wedding must proceed to solidify our alliances. It would also be too dangerous to reveal the princess is out there without protection to anyone outside her close circle. I will take on the responsibility of searching for the princess.”
“You?” Lupin asked incredulously. “You're the one who collaborated in a lie about her escape.”
Lucy did not like the way the prince looked at Basil. The only ones who could disrespect him were Esther and herself—no one else. Not even the prince.
“He has the power to sense her magic and past experience leading the royal guard. And he cares about Esther. In fact, I’d wager he knows more about her than you,” she bit out.
“Finally decided to stop talking weird?” Basil whispered. She stomped on his toe, earning a pained grunt.
“It’s impossible with only one retired guard,” the King said. “I… don’t know what to do.”
Lucy’s heart panged. For once, the King simply looked human. At this moment, he was nothing more than a lost, worried father hoping his daughter was safe.
“I will request help from The Brass Sparrow,” Basil said, emphasizing the guild name.
“The Brass Sparrow? The most elite guild that doesn’t bow to anyone, even royal power? How will you get their help?” Lucy asked theatrically, despite no longer needing to act.
“I have personal relations with the guild master. He’s my brother-in-law. We’ve remained close even after my wife’s death.”
“And I’ll go with! I’ve spent from dawn to dusk with the princess every day for the past… how many years? If anyone can recognize her from afar, it’s me.”
“I will put my trust in you, Sir Basil. Please, bring my daughter back.”
When Lucy left, she was sure she had seen the intimidating King of Valedara crying into a letter.