Chapter 3
Malone was very uncomfortable until he was out of the dining room. Whenever someone addressed him as "Your Highness," he attempted to correct them, but he never got very far past "I'm sorry, but—." It seemed as if everyone were deaf to his protests. Once he was in the hallway, he was able to demand of Kestrel what the hell he thought he was doing, making an announcement like that.
"What on earth do you mean?" Kestrel said, looking highly affronted at Malone's language.
"You told everyone in there that I am a prince!" Malone shouted. "I'm not! I have no idea what put that notion into your head, but trust me, there is no way that I can be your prince! I have never been anywhere like this place before, and there is no way that it's possible!"
"Calm down," Kestrel said, trying to placate him. "Calm down, now. You may be a little confused, I'll grant you that, but that's no reason to begin shouting."
Malone stopped, and glared at him and ignored Kestrel's attempts to get him walking again. "Damn right I'm confused!"
"Please, watch your language," Kestrel said, pulling on Malone's elbow. "Once we're in private you may swear all you wish, but you'll scandalize all the ladies if they hear you."
Malone allowed himself to be led along into his room, and once Kestrel had shut the door he didn't waste any time. "Explain. Now."
Kestrel sat down and waved Malone into a chair. Malone perched on the edge of a seat, listening to everything that Kestrel had to say. Kestrel told how the prince had disappeared twenty years ago, and how he had had the vision that revealed how the prince would return to his home. "It's all right if you don't remember," Kestrel said, waving aside Ned's fledgling protests. "You were only a baby when you disappeared, after all. Do you think you could tell me a little bit of how you were raised and who raised you? Your mother is anxious to know."
Malone stared at him. "I'm not your prince," he said, grinding the words out. "Listen to me. I was born in New York City, my parents live there still, and there is no way that I am your prince! Why can't I make you understand me? I'm not who you think I am!"
Kestrel stared at him. "Perhaps I wasn't as clear as I ought to have been," he said as the door opened. It was Karlton, and he was carrying what looked like a pot of tea or cocoa. He poured, and Malone noticed that it was hot apple cider. Kestrel ignored Karlton completely.
"I told you that it's all right if you don't remember, and of course, you wouldn't remember. You were only a few years old when you disappeared. The place you know as your home and the people you know as your parents are not what you think they are. Your home is here, and your mother is here, and this entire kingdom has been waiting for you. A vision showed me how you would return, and you have. There is no arguing with visions. You will become used to this place in time, I assure you."
Malone stared at Kestrel as he pressed a drink into his hand. At a loss, he sank into his chair and sipped. His brain was screaming at him to get up, grab his stuff, and run out of there as fast as possible, but he couldn't make his body work. It was as if all ability to move had been sapped out of him. He was almost done with his cider when he found he could no longer keep the cup in his hands or his eyes open. Quickly, he set the cup down and felt his body go slack as his eyes closed. What was wrong with him?
"Finally," he heard Kestrel say, and he heard the older man get out of his chair. "Karlton, put him to bed, please, and have someone stay with him; sometimes youngsters sleepwalk with drugs in their system."
"Yes, sir," Karlton said, but Malone was happy to hear that he didn't sound too glad about the drugs part.
He drugged me? Malone thought as he felt someone lift him onto the bed and begin working his boots off. How? Oh, it must have been when he passed me my cup. Whatever that was, it sure acted quick. What is this guy, harmless old councilor or double-dealing jailer? As soon as I'm awake in the morning, I am out of here.
Karlton finished putting him to bed quickly, and then he heard the manservant take his place in a nearby chair. Malone lay where he had been tucked in and tried to get himself to go to sleep. The drug held him immobile, but it hadn't sent him to sleep, and that was where he felt like going. At least in sleep, he'd be out of this nightmare. As the minutes started to flow into an hour, and that hour into two, Malone passed into the realms of sleep.