Prince Clive sat at supper, picking apart the waterfowl with dangerous precision. His son pushed the chickpeas around the plate. “Is it true that you arrested the Merry Coroners?” he asked. His father’s lip lifted into a sneer.
“I’d like to keep an eye on them.” Prince Darsie stared at him.
“But why?”
“You could never understand the innerworkings of order, let alone a kingdom!” Prince Clive laughed. Darsie looked away, ashamedly.
~
Delilah was shoved into a cell with the others, but was removed a few minutes later. “Prince Clive wants to see you. You’re lucky!” smiled the prison guard. When brought into the dining hall, Clive clapped twice.
“You will commence singing.” Delilah lifted her chin and looked him in the eye.
“What evil is upon us, one cannot say. I’d rather have the fat king back, any old day.” She sang those few words and was silent.
“Bold for a gypsy woman. Mark my words, you will surely see evil if you do not continue singing.” Prince Clive spit a bone onto his plate.