Chapter 2 Foolish Prince

Kain’s POV

I snapped my eyes open, instantly blinded by a thick beam of morning sunlight pouring straight through the window.

I bolted upright, my heart slamming into my ribs as I threw my legs over the side of the bed. The room was massive, carpeted, and completely unfamiliar.

Then the headache hit, and with it, every single memory from yesterday came crashing back.

That crackhead prince had almost ended my life with my own granite ball.

“Fuck,” I muttered, staring at the bright morning sky outside.

I was supposed to steal my jewel under the cover of dark last night. Now the sun was fully up. Worse, my brain started spiraling through every nightmare scenario. What if Evren had wriggled out of his ropes back at the tavern, run straight to the guards, and exposed me?

Panicking, I threw myself off the bed and began pacing the floorboards. I needed a way out, and fast. If they hadn't dragged me to a dungeon, it meant they were keeping me in a plush guest room until they were ready to summon me.

Knock. Knock.

A sharp rap on the heavy oak door made my heart jump into my throat. In one fluid motion, I dove back onto the mattress, kicked the covers over my legs, and closed my eyes, feigning a deep coma.

The door creaked open, followed by the quiet, measured thud of incoming boots. I held my breath, listening closely. Just one person.

Tap. Tap.

A firm hand jabbed my shoulder. When I didn't move, the hand shifted upward, fingers brushing uncomfortably close to my neck. The skin tickled, and I had to fight with every fiber of my being not to flinch or burst out laughing.

“I know you are awake,” a voice said.

I would know that arrogant tone anywhere. My eyes snapped open, staring directly up at the prince’s insufferable morning face.

“You,” I grunted, launching out of the bed like a corpse rising from the dead.

Lancelot didn't even flinch. “Is that how you address a prince?”

“Any prince capable of cracking a man's skull open with a rock is no prince,” I fired back.

His dark eyebrows furrowed, looking genuinely annoyed.

Before I could dig my own grave any deeper, my brain finally caught up with reality, I was currently an unregistered imposter yelling at the heir to the throne.

I cleared my throat, taking a cautious step back toward the floor. “Uh... can I go?”

“Yes, you can,” Lancelot said, gesturing casually toward a small wooden desk near the wall. “Your payment lies there.”

I tilted my head, spotting a small leather pouch filled with gold coins resting next to a wrapped parcel.

Wait. They hadn't caught on. They actually thought I was just a performer injured by their prince.

A wide smile spread across my face. Asking zero follow up questions, I marched over to the desk, grabbed the gold and the gift, and shoved them straight into my satchel. I didn't waste a second heading for the door.

“Bye. See you soon,” the prince called out from behind me.

I stopped dead in my tracks, turning my head just enough to give him a look of absolute disgust. See you soon? Over my dead body.

I slammed the heavy door shut right in his face.

Out in the grand hallway, servants and armored knights bustled past, completely ignoring me. Perfect. I had no intention of walking out those front gates empty-handed.

I knew the palace layout by heart. My friend, Dorian, who was a knight here, had spent three months mapping the lower courts where the royal artifacts were kept. The coward had lacked the balls to pull off the break in along with me, and standing here now, I couldn't entirely blame him, the place was crawling with guards.

I ducked around a marble corner, heading down the wide stone staircase that led straight into the lower vaults.

At the bottom of the steps, two guards stood posted outside a heavy iron bound door.

“What is the royal jester doing down here?” one of them grunted, crossing his arms.

Judging by the reinforced steel hinges and the sheer amount of muscle guarding that entry, my jewel was sitting right on the other side.

“Hey fellas,” I purred, flashing a bright, friendly grin as I casually sauntered down the last few steps.

My mind raced. Could I seduce my way past them? Probably not. Between the smeared coloured face paint and the ridiculous bell hat, I likely looked like a colorful nightmare.

“This area is off-limits to commoners,” the second guard snapped, laying a heavy hand on his sword hilt.

“How insolent of you to assume you aren't commoners yourselves,” a deep voice boomed from the top of the stairs.

I turned around. Standing at the top of the landing was that useless, arrogant prince again.

Lancelot descended the staircase with smooth, unhurried steps, his eyes locked on the guards. “Leave us. We need to speak alone.”

The two men exchanged hesitant glances. “My prince... we were assigned directly by the captain....”

“Are you questioning my orders?” Lancelot’s voice dropped into a sharp, commanding edge that froze both men in place. “No one can break through that door anyway. You know the keys are on my belt.”

My eyes instantly dropped to his waist. Sitting right beside a silver dagger was a heavy brass ring holding a set of intricate iron keys.

My smile returned, bigger this time. Well now. That saves me from having to pick the lock.

The guards bowed quickly and hurried up the stairs, leaving the corridor completely deserted.

The moment their footsteps faded, I closed the distance between us, throwing my arms wide and wrapping him in a tight, theatrical hug. I pressed close, my fingers deftly hooking around his belt and sliding the heavy brass ring off his hip. Lancelot froze instantly, rigid as a board.

“Thank you so much, Your Highness!” I gushed dramatically, making sure to keep his arms pinned while my fingers finished the job. “You didn't let this poor, humble artist be looked down upon!”

In a flash of motion, Lancelot grabbed my shoulder and shoved me backward hard enough to make my bells jingle.

“The audacity,” he breathed, adjusting his coat with a look of pure disgust. “I could have you beheaded for touching me.”

Before I could offer a fake apology, he turned on his heel and strode back up the stairs toward the upper levels.

I stood alone in the quiet hallway, watching his back disappear. A slow smirk spread across my face as I held up the heavy brass keys, letting them clink softly in my palm.

What a foolish prince.

I turned to the vault, slid the key into the heavy lock, and smiled as the mechanism gave a sharp, satisfying click.