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The False Prince: Chapter 24


It was impossible to know what time it was when Mott and Cregan returned for me again. It didn’t feel as if I’d had any rest, but my arms ached so badly, I was sure I’d slept for some time. Whatever food Imogen gave me had long ceased to offer any comfort.

Cregan reached the dungeon first and got directly in my face. With a snarl, he asked, “Where’s the rock?”

“Gold,” I mumbled.

“Enough!” Mott pulled Cregan’s outstretched arm down. “This is between the boy and the master. Not you.”

Cregan grabbed my hair to force me to look at him. “You’re not the prince yet, so I can tell you this. I’m going to do everything in my power to see that Conner chooses one of the other two boys. Because after they ride off to the castle, I’m going to kill you myself. And you will beg for mercy, but you’ll come to understand just how merciless I can be.”

“I said, enough,” Mott repeated. “Let him down, Cregan.”

They released the chains and I crumpled to the floor like a rag doll. Cregan kicked me lightly until I let him have the satisfaction of a groan, and then dropped an armful of clothes on me. “The master wishes to speak with you. Get dressed.”

I didn’t move until Mott finally crouched to the floor and began dressing me. Then he cursed and said to Cregan, “He’s bled through on his bandages. Get me some more.”

“I’ll have to get them from upstairs,” Cregan said. “We didn’t have much down here before.”

“Then get them.”

Cregan’s footsteps pounded up the stairs. While I lay facedown on the filthy floor, Mott worked silently to remove my bandages. One of them pulled where dried sweat and blood had bonded it to my skin. I cringed and Mott breathed an apology.

With tears in my eyes I said, “You have to help me. Please, Mott. I can’t do this.”

“I work for Conner, not you.” Then after a moment, he sighed tiredly and added, “After all this, the master is still considering you. That says a lot. It’s time to stop thinking of yourself as an orphan and look at yourself as a prince.”

“I will always be an orphan now.” And for the first time in as long as I could remember, I cried. I cried for my lost family, and for every circumstance in my life that had led me here. Mott held my forehead until calm slowly returned to me.

“Forgive me,” I mumbled.

“You’re half-starved and exhausted,” he said. “Forgive me that it was my job to bring this upon you.”

Moments later, Cregan returned. He handed the new bandage to Mott and then stood back as Mott carefully peeled away the rest of the old one.

“Give me a light,” he directed Cregan.

Cregan handed him a candle, which they held close to me. “It’s going to scar,” Mott said. “It cut deeper than I had thought. But I think, so far, we saved it from any infection.” They poured more of the liquid onto the cut. I clawed at the floor for relief from the pain but made little sound. There was no energy for that.

The sting passed and they wrapped me in a new bandage. It took both Mott’s and Cregan’s help to get me dressed, then they walked me up the stairs. The early morning light was fierce on my eyes and I stumbled backward, anything to get away from so much sun.

“Get him some water,” Mott said to someone nearby while still holding me firmly.

A cup appeared and Mott pressed it to my lips. I took a few sips, then turned my head away. The light didn’t hurt so badly now. I faintly realized how much I’d missed seeing it.

“We can’t delay any longer,” Mott said. “Let’s take him to Conner.”


They sat me in a chair facing Conner’s desk. Conner stared at me for what seemed like an eternity, and then said, “You look terrible.”

I said nothing.

“If you learn nothing else during your time here, Sage, perhaps you will learn not to defy me. You were two nights down there; did you know it’s been so long? I hope you had time to reflect that disobedience to me will bring you nothing but misery.”

Again, I had no response. It occurred to me that obedience to him offered its own form of misery, but I wasn’t going to tell him that. Besides, it hurt to talk.

Conner nodded at Mott, who brought out a tray and set it on Conner’s desk. It was filled with items I recognized as having come from various hiding places around my bed and my drawers.

Conner picked up a few things that I’d pickpocketed over the last few days: a butter knife, a gold cuff link, several coins. “No need to ask about these,” he said. “You’ve obviously managed to find time amongst your other studies to steal from me and those in this household.”

Yes, that was obvious, so I remained silent.

Then Conner picked up some papers. “But I must ask about these. Do you know what’s on them?”

“I don’t know what you’re looking at,” I mumbled.

“They’re notes someone made. Whoever wrote them seems to have detailed some strange plans. They may be interpreted as ways to get rid of me should he become king. Everything from the rather nonoffensive appointing me as a foreign ambassador to poisoning my wine. Who wrote this, Sage?”

I shook my head. “Is your name on it?”

“Of course not. As I said, this is only my interpretation of the notes. Tell me who wrote them so I can ask about it.”

“I wanted to practice writing with my right hand. I found these in a bin, set for fire kindling.”

“I must ask you directly, did you write these notes?”

I started to laugh, then choked on it as a pain thumped in my side. “You can’t think I’m that foolish.”

“Roden couldn’t have made these notes either,” Conner said. “It must be Tobias.”

“Ask him, then.”

“I think not,” Conner said. “I believe I’ll let Tobias rest secure in the belief that he’s in the lead for my decision. The more confident he is, if he authored these pages, that overconfidence will guide him to expose himself.” Conner chuckled, and then added, “I’m sure this secret is safe between you and me, correct?”

He didn’t wait for a response and I offered none. Conner stood and walked over to me. He lifted my face and inspected it for cuts or bruises. “You’re none the worse after a stay in my dungeons. I hope the experience humbled you.”

He took the blank expression on my face as an answer and continued, “You’re a difficult young man, Sage, but I suspect that comes from your lack of discipline and supervision, which means I can train it out of you. I’ve heard that down in the dungeons, you told Mott you would be my prince. Is that so?”

“You need me.”

“Why is that?”

It took a few seconds to collect my breath to answer. “Tobias and Roden can’t convince the regents. I can.”

“So you’ll be their prince,” Conner said. “But will you be my prince?”

Slowly, I nodded. Conner smiled and said, “You have one more week to prove it to me. Sleep today and you’ll resume lessons tomorrow. Now go get some rest.”

He never asked me about the rock, but he got what he really wanted. I had promised to be his prince.


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