Chapter 3 Execution

Kain’s POV

I stepped inside, and my jaw nearly hit the expensive marble floors.

The room was as wide as a grand hall, practically glowing with shelves of uncut crystals, stacks of cold silver, and row after row of enchanted relics. They really just left all of this sitting here? With the only line of defense being a key hanging off a prince's belt? Unbelievable.

I stared at the mountains of gold piled along the far tables. I was taking my magic jewel, obviously, but I was definitely scooping up a handful of gold coins as a bonus. Consider it a compensation fee for the stone ball he had bounced off my head earlier.

Setting my bag down, I pulled out the parchment drawing the old wizard had handed me back in the Aveloria. It showed a plain silver chain with a heavy, pitch-black pendant.

“It looks like ordinary jewelry with a crystal pendant,” the old man had told me, “but it glows with a dark aura. You will know it when you see it.”

I started tearing through the tables quietly, shoving aside silver goblets, dusty tomestones, and stacks of ancient coins.

There was nothing.

I kept searching until a weird seam on one of the heavy display tables caught my eye. I cleared away a mound of gold coins and spotted a small, round wooden lever embedded in the wood.

Ahan. They thought they were being clever.

I pulled the lever. A hidden circular hatch in the center of the table flipped open with a soft click, revealing a dark wooden box lined with velvet. I lifted the lid, and there it was.

The silver chain sat inside, its black stone pulsing with a faint, shadowy light.

I grinned, a surge of relief rushing through me.

Finally. Access to my full magical potential, right in the palm of my hand. The goddess clearly wanted me to have this, she knew these corrupt royals didn't deserve it and I was the rightful person for it.

I snatched the pendant out of the box, shoved it deep into my inner pocket, and slammed the compartment shut. I pulled the lever back, watched the wooden table slide seamlessly into place, and scooped the gold back over the seam. Clean and easy.

Clap. Clap. Clap.

The slow, rhythmic sound of hands clapping made me freeze dead in my tracks.

I turned my head toward the sound, every muscle in my body going stiff. Prince Lance was stepping out from behind a massive, towering statue of an armored knight.

My heart dropped straight into my boots.

“How did you... get in here?” I stammered.

He offered his usual, slow creepy smirk, pointing a single finger toward the shadowed corner of the vault. “There is a back door.”

I squinted in absolute disappointment, spotting an open archway behind the tapestries that I had completely missed. But wait, had he been standing in here the whole time?

It hit me all at once. The loud announcement at the stairs. The deliberate mention of the keys on his belt. The easy, unbothered way he had let me hug him.

Damn it. He wasn't foolish at all. I was the idiot.

Think, Kain, think!

In a fraction of a second, I shifted gears. I forced my eyes to swell with tears, calling upon every bit of street theater I had ever learned.

“I am an orphan,” I choked out, my voice cracking dramatically as tears spilled down my face. Lancelot just stared at me, completely emotionless. I dropped heavily to both knees, looking up at him like a tragic martyr.

“Abandoned when I was barely two days old! The whole village raised me! I have no one, Your Highness... no help, no family!”

I pressed a trembling hand to my chest, pointing at myself. “I have an incurable disease! I only came here for money to buy my medicine... I....”

“Shut up and stop wasting my time,” Lancelot interrupted, his face twisted in pure annoyance.

I let out a wet, dramatic, lingering cough. “Cough, cough... please...”

“I said, I don't have time for this,” he repeated, taking a step closer.

“You can’t take me to the dungeon, my prince!” I sobbed, clutching my stomach. “I am sick!”

He leaned down, his dark eyes locked onto mine. “I have no intention of sending you there.”

My heart skipped a beat. He wasn't arresting me? Wait. Don't tell me... does the crown prince like men? I knew it. He was about to make a ridiculous proposition.

“You are taking me with you,” Lancelot said suddenly. “You are going to help me escape this palace, and you're going to keep me disguised.”

I blinked, the fake tears instantly drying up. “What?”

“You heard me,” he said, his tone icy. “I need you to get me out of here, and I will be traveling with you in disguise for at least a year.”

I completely forgot my tragic orphan act and burst out laughing, scrambling back up to my feet. “Man, most guys only ask for one night with me, and you're asking for a whole year?” I sneered, scanning him from head to toe. “Besides, you aren't even my kind of guy.”

“You idiot,” he snapped, his composure cracking into pure frustration. “I don't want your body! Listen to what I am saying. Help me run away.”

I paused. The look on his face wasn't a joke. He was entirely serious.

“Hold on. You want me,” I pointed at my chest, “to run away with the Crown Prince of Vilemont... so the royal army can hunt us down and behead me? Not a chance in hell.”

I held out both my wrists, thrusting them straight toward his face. “You know what? Cuff me and take me to the dungeons. Or your bed. I don't care. I refuse.”

Lancelot frowned, his eyes narrowing into cold slits. “You just stole the kingdom’s most ancient, protected artifact. If I hand you over to the guards, you won't see a dungeon. The law dictates immediate public execution.”

My jaw tightened. My heart started drumming loudly. Execution for just one magical jewel?

He leaned in close, his voice dangerously low. “So... are you going to help me run away, or not?”