Young Writers Society

I hadn't like how Jacob was so stubbornly loyal to the queen, but I also didn't like how he was suddenly keeping quiet because his boyfriend - the prince - had decided to do something that probably would go against her.

But that was a problem for another time. Right now, I had to focus on Kirux crying in my arms and on getting the queen to do something different, even though I wasn't quite sure what kind of response I was looking for from her.

The prince, at least, had the intelligence to look worried when he saw how quiet and obedient Jacob had become. But he didn't say anything; he just started heading towards the door, his expression switching from worried to troubled as he started to head down the steps with Jacob in tow.

I followed him down with Kirux; Kirux had stopped hugging me, but he was tightly holding onto my hand with one hand while the other wiped his tear-filled eyes.

We reached the bottom of the stairs.

Adrian stopped at its base, only moving aside when he saw that Kirux and I needed some space to slip by.

"Hi, mom," the prince said.

The queen looked up at her son's voice and smiled, "Adrian, how wonderful it is that I've found you. You're safe, I see."

The conversation the queen was trying to start was clearly not the one looming on the horizon. The look on the prince's face, combined with Fidel's uneasy looks, Megara's death glare, Kirux's tears, and Skulls supposed bad mood - it was difficult to tell when he was in the metal body of his - spoke of a very different conversation. One that had no clear ending in sight.

"I am," the prince agreed.

There was a moment of silence.

The prince looked back at Jacob, and then looked at our ragtag group before turning his attention back to the queen. Adrian was trying his best not to betray how he was feeling - I could see that.

But, from what I had heard, it was always hard hiding your emotions around people who actually knew you well - and who you knew could call you out the moment they realized something was off.

"Skull told me why he and his friends-" I had to resist the urge to laugh at that description of us. "-are here."

There was more silence.

"Ah," she queen gestures to a second stool tucked beneath the table beside her, "Sit with me, let us talk this through."

A smile, small, perhaps even a little sadistic, crept across Megara's face. She watched the pair with unmasked interest.

Fidel gave her a worried glance.

The queen didn't spare any of them a glance, just watched her son with her arm outstretched toward the stool.

I could see the conflict on the prince's face - he wanted to do what his mother said, but he was also more than a little upset with her.

So I really wasn't surprised when he suggested an alternative.

"We can talk while standing," he said, meeting her gaze directly.

Her arm lowered, her smile faded a little, but she nodded, accepting his decision. Megara guessed that the last thing the prince wanted right now was for his decisions to be 'accepted', but she kept her mouth closed and twisted in morbid curiosity. It was like watching one of Briar's experiments. Slow, unpredictable, and full of unspoken screaming.

"Very well," the queen said, "What, precisely, is your view of the situation?"

Her attempts at civility were rather impressive, given the circumstances, and her ability to almost completely mask her emotions was impressive. but Megara had seen better. She fully expected the queen to crack, any moment now.

Adrian took a deep breath.

...Part of me almost wished I wasn't here for this part of the conversation.

"I think you made a mistake," he said. "I think you're ignoring what these people want. They don't want to be here, and they have no responsibility to this world or this kingdom. We don't get to decide something like that."

Queen Isadora, to her credit, didn't falter.

"They didn't have such a responsibility," she agreed, sort of. Megara didn't miss the past-tense. "but now they do. They've been called, bound by magic, to do a job. Do you really think that they should be exempt from their responsibility to that bond just because they have realized that their job will be a dangerous one?"

"You act like we consented to being dragged from out worlds," Megara interjected.

The queen gave her a cursory glance, "You did," she said calmly, "Perhaps not consciously, but some part of you agreed to my terms. The spell would not have taken you otherwise."

Megara snorted, "You also said we were 'heroes'. I'm a torturer and a killer. And guess what? I like my job. So please, explain how I'm so very heroic again?"

The queen didn't grace her with an answer, just addressed her son, "They are heroes summoned to help and serve you."

The prince was silent for a minute.

I took it as an opportunity to speak.

"I didn't want to be taken here," I said, my robotic tone conveying none of my exasperation. "I wanted to go to another world - one that doesn't have a queen who wants to enslave total strangers, and one with the convenience of modern technology. Not your world."

I glanced over at Kirux.

His eyes were still red and cheeks were still wet, but he wasn't sobbing as much as before.

"I wanted to go to another world, too," he signed. "But I didn't want to get stuck...I was just looking for my heart..."

I didn't get that last part, but I didn't have time to question it - Adrian finally had decided to speak his mind.

"I didn't ask for them to be summoned," he said, "and it's clear that they feel the same as I do."

The queen made a dismissive gesture, "It's of no consequence now, what they want. They have to complete the task for which they were summoned before they can return to their homeworlds. This cannot be reversed."

Megara looked very much like she'd like to stab something, and Fidel looked like he might not try to stop her.

The prince crossed his arms.

"It is of consequence now," Adrian countered. "Even if you can't reverse what you've done, you need to acknowledge it and atone for your mistake."

As he spoke, his gaze wandered back to Jacob - lingering on him just long enough for me to get that he wasn't just talking about the queen's decision. But I didn't draw attention to it; the prince was in my good books right now, and I wanted to show the queen just how much I liked him.

"It's a good thing he's the one you're trying to put on the throne," I said, "because you'd make a terrible ruler compared to him."

Queen Isadora seemed unbothered by Skull's words. Adrian's, however, etched a frown onto her face and she gave a small shake of her head like you have so much to learn.

"Is this really how you wish to spend these precious days before your father finds you a suitor to attend to rather than bother yourself with the politics of the kingdom? With petty arguments of morality?" She sighed, "I've brought you fighters capable of putting you on the throne, we have limited time before the chance for them to do so is over. Can you not leave the atonement for after they have gained the ability to return to their homeworlds? Or would you rather they listen to apologies from me until such a fate is no longer possible for them?"

"Just saying," I butted in - even though I knew I was little more than a piece of furniture in the queen's eyes during the conversation with the prince - without missing a beat, "you're just a little lacking in the apology department. I don't even think you know how to apologize."

I paused and looked to Adrian, who seemed more than a little frustrated with his mom right now.

I crossed my arms.

"But you do unfortunately have a point," I relented. "I know my opinion means absolutely nothing to you, but if we only have a limited window of time, we should probably do what you're saying if we want to get home."

Nearby, Kirux sniffled.

And Adrian just silently stared at his mom, his expression between an angry scowl and a look of defeat.

The queen nodded at Skull's acceptance.

Megara threw her hands up, "Alright then, I'll just go kill the king then and we can go home."

She didn't want to either of those things. She didn't think she could just kill the king like that. Usually there was some measure, some document or ally, that kept things from turning out just how they wanted.

I mulled it over.

"There has to be something you're not telling us," I finally said. "The king must have something that would stop a regular overthrowing attempt - some kind of super powerful defense, or something a little more subtle. What is it?"