The Prince:

The young man's eyes bore into me after I stop talking and a cold sweat runs down my spine. He has really intense eyes. I think as he continues to glare at me.

I feel like someone with less practice schooling their emotions would probably be shaking in their boots right now. Hell I have had years of practice and I’m finding it hard to stand still under the force of his eyes.

It’s not that they are scary, quite the contrary, they are a beautiful dark blue with small flecks of lilac running through them. I think it’s the lilac that does it. Such an unusual color, in fact I have only seen similar colors on a few people around the palace, in total maybe four or five.

There was the healer that cured my broken bones moments ago, two of my personal maids, and lastly the little girl and boy who defended the prisoner earlier. So in total I guess there are five other people.

Even then it is a bit of a stretch to compare their eyes with this man’s. Sure their eyes are laced with purple, but when I really think about it, they don’t really compare. I guess you could say his eyes are unique to him.

I wonder if his magic is the same deep shade of lilac. I heard that a person's eyes are supposed to match the color of their magic.

Then again my own magic doesn’t match my eyes, so maybe that's a myth.

The man clears his throat suddenly and only then do I know I’ve been staring at him without saying anything.

“Pardon me. I just got lost looking into your eyes there for a minute.” I explain and immediately regret it when the man snorts and his shoulders start to shake in silent laughter.

“Don’t you dare laugh.” I command angrily, but I can already feel my face begin to burn so I’m not entirely sure if it comes off as forceful as I want it to. “Stop.” I demand, but that only seems to make him laugh harder. “Shut up or I’ll have you imprisoned until your hair turns grey.” I tell him and the shaking immediately stops.

“Are you aware of the position you are in right now?” I ask him and he smiles cockily at me, his shoulders shrugging up in a far too casual way. “I’ll have you know that I am doing you a courtesy even being here. My father wanted to give you the death sentence.” I tell him and he gulps a little at my words.

“Have you any idea how many healing spells I had to go through?” I ask him and he shakes his head and shrugs again. “Five.” I say sternly and he grimaces. “Three of which were to stabilize my ribs and stop them from crushing my heart.”

He gives me a dry look as if to say, that's too bad. What else you got?

“The fourth was to restart my heart and the fifth was to heal everything completely.” I tell him and he bites his bottom lip before giving me a look that reads, where is this going? At least that's what I think he’s trying to say. He could be cursing me out for all I know or maybe he's asking himself why I didn’t die.

For the first time I entertain the notion that he might have meant to push me, but quickly shake the thought off at the memory of his face when the the railing broke. He looked as scared as I felt. There is just no way someone who looks like that could have meant to push me. It’s the reason I came down here in the first place.

“You owe me.” I tell him finally and he scoffs at me.

One of his eyebrows rises skeptical at that comment and I raise my own in turn.

“Don’t even try to claim you don’t. I almost died because of you.” He scoffs at that, but I ignore him and push on. “My maids, my guards, my butler, all of them are under my fathers control. I can’t do a single thing without my father hearing of it.” I tell him slowly, calculating the impact each one will have on him.

So? He seems to ask me and I roll my eyes at him.

“I want you to take their place. You will do what I say, when I say it, without objection.” I tell him sternly and watch as he shakes his head hard and scoffs at me indignantly.

“You will. Or I will hand your punishment over to my father.” I say sternly.

He thinks about it for a moment and I watch as the gears turn in his head. At last he looks me in the eye and drags one finger across his throat. His tongue pops out of his mouth then and he lets his eyes fall shut and his head drop to the side in a pantomime of death.

“You’d rather die than take my deal?” I ask incredulously.

He shrugs his shoulders and holds his hands in a palms up gesture and I shake my head at him.

“What the hell is wrong with you?” I scowl at him as I say it and he thinks about it for a moment, like it’s a very good question.

His hands come up and he begins making a gesture that looks like writing. I look around for something for him to write on and finally find a quill and some parchment on a small desk by the door. I hand it to him and he starts writing.

“I don’t want to be your slave, anything is better than that, even death.” It reads when he turns it around to show me.

“You would not be my slave!” I shout when I finish reading it and he returns to writing.

“Sure seems like slavery.” He writes and I scowl at him.

“How dare you presume such a thing!” I shout at him and he shrugs again.

“I do what you want when you want me to do it and I’m not allowed to disobey? That's like the definition of slavery.” He shows me his piece of paper and I scowl at him.

I stare at the words a bit wide eyed. That actually does sound quite a bit like slavery. What should I do now? I think as I stare at the page before me.

“Fine. How about this?” I say at last. “The deal remains the same, however, I will release you from it and make you a duke, if you tell me why you are mute.” I tell him and he gives me an indignant look.

“That's still slavery.” He scribbles out.

I grind my teeth after reading that and scowl at him again. “Slaves don’t get the chance to be released. So no, it’s not slavery.” I growl at him. I’m beginning to think this is a bad idea, but I've already committed too much to quit now.

“Even if I take your deal, I’m not going to tell you why I’m mute.” He shows me the paper again and I pinch the bridge of my nose in irritation.

“Then stay my slave forever. I don’t care.” I finally break and he laughs at me again.

“So you admit it is slavery.” He writes out and I get the sudden urge to punch him in the face.

“Shut up.” I growl at him.

“I want something.” He scribbles after a moment and I scowl at him.

“Screw you. You are not in a position to demand anything of me.” I tell him indignantly, but he ignores me.

“I want to be taken out of the maids chambers and moved to another room.” The page reads when he flips it back and I almost want to laugh.

Jokes on him, I was going to do that anyway. I almost tell him that, but think better of it. He’d probably just demand something else instead. What a snake.

“Whatever. Are you gonna take the deal or not?” I ask and rub my head in exhaustion, Yeah this was a really bad idea.

He makes a grand gesture of thinking about it for a minute, before putting the quill to the page again. He takes a long time to write out his answer and I am about to yell at him when he turns the page back to me.

“Would you like me to call you master or would your majesty suffice?” It reads and I almost want to laugh.

“You may call me Prince Pheles Adrielos Tobias Samuel Menphis Cremora.”

“You must be really full of yourself if you think I’m writing that whole damn thing out.” Comes his response and this time, I really do laugh.