It’s time for another writing prompt, my dears! 🙂 I had fun with this one, which is why it’s a little longer than my usual prompts. Don’t worry if you’re short on time, though, it’s still pretty short 🙂
This week’s winner is:
— Sarina Langer (@sarinalanger) August 16, 2017
As always, if you fancy giving it a go feel free to use this prompt. That’s what it’s there for, after all 😉 If you do, please link back here so I can be nosy.
(f.: regal one)
Royale swore when she slipped in the fresh mud, and landed on her butt. Curse breaking into her own castle at night; her favourite trousers were ruined. Fabulous.
“Fuck off, Jude.”
“Hey now, is that any way to treat an old friend? Come on,” he held out one hand for her, “let me help you up.”
She scoffed and pulled herself up. She didn’t need help. She didn’t need anyone.
“Stop fretting over me like I’m a five-year old. I can look after myself.”
“Yeah, I just saw how well you–” One glare shut him up. His humour was the last thing she needed tonight.
“Let’s just get on with it, shall we? The gate won’t be unguarded for long.”
“Your wish is my command, princess.” He did a terrible curtsy bow, and straightened when she shot him another glare.
The gap in the wall was tight, but she’d squeezed through worse–and certainly filthier–over the last ten months. Some thorns and spider webs wouldn’t get in her way now she was so close to coming home.
For the past ten months, she’d been on the run. She’d picked up Jude along the way in return for his silence–her disguise had been good enough to fool everyone else, but he had recognised for what she was. Princess Royale. Heiress to the throne. (Her parents had had a flare for the dramatic, calling her Royale and her brother Prince. Prince Prince. He was definitely off worse than her). Now she just needed to sneak in before her brother realised she was back, stab him in the throat while he slept, and sit on her throne by morning.
Royale–or Roya, as Jude had come to call her against her every wish and warning–brushed the webs off herself as Jude squeezed through the gap behind her.
“Welcome home, Princess Roya!” The fool was grinning. Like this was his big moment instead of hers. Although, she had to admit, she had imagined her big moment with less dirt and just a little more gold. Still, that could be rectified. Just as soon as she got to Prince the prince the idiot.
“Shut up and let’s get moving.”
“You have a plan, I take it?”
“You think I’d just walk in without a plan?”
He shrugged. “No, but I hoped you’d finally share it with me.”
She frowned. Jude had proven useful, but she couldn’t be sure that he wouldn’t alert the guards if he knew. He’d been as loyal as any stranger could be, but most people were opposed to regicide. As far as he was concerned, she might as well have been here to talk it over with her brother over breakfast, or midnight pastries.
“You don’t need to know. In fact,” she pinned him against an ivy-covered stone wall, “there’s no need for you to come any further than this. I’ll go the rest of the way myself.”
He sighed. “Ah. I see. That presents us with a problem now, doesn’t it?”
She was too stunned to back away and too stunned to cut his throat. This didn’t sound like Jude. There was something deep inside his voice, something old and primal, and it made her shiver.
“Who the fuck are you?”
Jude-not-Jude smiled. “Haven’t you wondered how I saw through your disguise when we first met?”
Understanding washed over her in the same instant that a hazy fog stretched in her mind. She backed away but only found more ivy and cold stone.
“Stay away from me!”
“I’m afraid I can’t.”
“Are you helping my brother? Did he sent you?”
He chuckled. “No. Your brother doesn’t even know I exist, but he’s beginning to suspect. You’re coming with me, Royale. I imagine you’ll struggle, but I advise against it. I’ll take you bruised or not.”
“Like hell I will!”
She should have run. She should have tried, at least, but the impossible nightmare before her was already warping her mind. Running seemed like a good idea; she just couldn’t remember how. Her legs felt too heavy for any movement. A hot bath and a nap–that’s what she needed.
Her knees went weak, and she fell into his too-human arms.
“Why?” Her voice sounded muffled, but his was clear in her mind.
“Because the prince can’t die tonight, Roya, but neither can you.” It grinned, so much like Jude and so different to him, too. “Trust me, dearest sister.”
There was so much she needed to know. Why had the monster from their nightmares let them come this far only to kidnap her? Why had it travelled with her for the past six months? And why had it called her sister?
But her mind went numb, her vision turned dark, and her world went silent.
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