Chapter 5

As soon as the carriage rolled into the courtyard, Malone was up and out of it. That was the second ride that he'd had to take and wave to people in two days, and it was starting to make him very frustrated. These people were ecstatic to see a prince, and he felt completely fake pretending to be one. Kestrel was no help at all. Since Malone had arrived at the palace, Kestrel ruled every aspect of Malone's day, and there was hardly a moment that he let up. Malone would be woken in the morning by Karlton with a tea tray, and Malone would sip at tea while washing and dressing to wake himself up. Then, he would have breakfast with the queen and Kestrel, and Kestrel had made it clear to him that he had to give the queen a kiss every morning and say, "Good morning, Mother." The one time he'd forgotten, Kestrel had pitched a fit once they were in private. He'd tried reasoning with the man, but Malone was beginning to think that the man was somehow mad. After all, he had to know that Malone wasn't the one they were waiting for, but he still persisted in calling him "Your Highness."

After breakfast was finished, Malone had to go to lessons with Brother Ambrose, an elderly monk that was (according to Kestrel) very learned and (according to Malone) very forgetful. Being made to copy pages out of a book of questions when you were a published journalist was very difficult and an exercise in frustration. You could copy the page verbatim, and still Brother Ambrose found things wrong with it. Also, the old man never seemed to remember that he'd assigned Malone the same page for three days in a row. He was tired of reading the same words over and over again and then writing them out. It was beginning to drive him crazy.

Once lessons were finished for the day, Malone went outside to the stables to learn, as Kestrel had put it, to ride properly. No matter what he did, he always managed to fall off. The riding master had told him more than once to move with the horse, but when he tried that it had felt as if he were going to fall off, and when he tried to correct himself, he would tumble into the sawdust of the ring. He would leave the ring to go wash (and soak out some of his aches) before lunch. The queen often entertained during lunch, so Malone had to exercise all of his charm or face Kestrel's certain wrath later. Most of the young women threw themselves at him, and he was getting very tired of the whole business. He wished that Veronica could be there so he could have someone intelligent to talk with.

Once lunch was finished, they either went out in the carriage to ride around town, or they held council. Council was deadly dull and the hardest thing to sit through, and Malone had to look as if he were paying attention or risk Kestrel's glares. He managed to divert himself by imagining strange hairstyles on the head of the speaker, and there were times when he had to fight down laughter. It was one way to stay awake.

As soon as council was finished, Malone had to go and dress for dinner, which was always formal and sit through countless courses while making polite conversation with whomever it was on his right. At least sitting at the queen's right hand meant that he only had one person he had to amuse. Evening entertainments never took long since all he had to do there was mingle a little and then excuse himself, so he was charming and quiet, rather than charming and garrulous. It took longer if he talked to people. Then, he would kiss the queen good night and go off to his quarters. Kestrel was always there with something hot for him to drink, and Malone knew better than to refuse it. The one time he had tried, Kestrel had forced it down his throat, convincing him that the man was mad and determined to keep him there. After all, he couldn't run off during the night if he were drugged, could he?

This afternoon, though, there was no way he was going to sit through a council session! Oh, no, he was going to get out of there even if he killed himself in the process! He couldn't stand anymore, and he felt awful lying to the queen all the time. He wasn't her son, and Kestrel would just have to admit to her that he was an old fraud. Reaching his room, Malone went in and shut the door behind him, a sign to Karlton and the other servants that he wished to be left alone. Replacing his shoes with riding boots, Malone scooted back out of the door, determined to--

He dug in his heels to stop himself, almost running into Kestrel. He felt his mouth turn dry as the old man looked at him.

"Are you all right, Your Highness?" Kestrel asked, laying a hand on Malone's shoulder. "You ran inside so quickly that I wasn't sure you were all right."

"Ah, fine, thank you," Malone said, pulling away. "I was just--"

"Going for a ride?" Kestrel asked, eyeing the boots. "You should be heading to the council session now, not riding," he said, pushing back on Malone's shoulder, forcing the young man back. "You weren't thinking of running off, were you?"

Malone swallowed, seeing a manic glint in Kestrel's eyes that in no way resembled sanity. Hastily, he shook his head.

"I should hope not," Kestrel said, opening the bedroom door and pushing Malone into the room. "What would your mother say?"

"You and I both know that she isn't my mother," Malone said, trying for the umpteenth time to make the old man understand.

"As far as you're concerned, Edward, she is," Kestrel said, compelling Ned into a chair. He reached inside his coat and pulled out a small glass bottle. He pulled out the tiny stopper and held it out to Malone, looking angry. "Drink this."

"Oh, no," Malone said, getting up and backing away from Kestrel. "I'm not going to do it. You're mad, Kestrel. I'm not staying here, and you're not going to drug me to make me stay, either!"

Kestrel looked at him, then broke into a hearty chuckle. "Drug you?" Kestrel said, sounding genuinely surprised. "Whatever gave you that idea? It's only an herbal infusion to help calm you, that's all."

"Yeah, calm me right into unconsciousness!" Malone shot back. "Forget it, Kestrel!"

Kestrel's smile disappeared, and he looked angry once more. "Either you take this and drink it, or I'll make sure you do," he snarled. "You're not going anywhere."

Malone glared at him, but shot past him towards the door, trying to get away from the lunatic that called himself a councilor.

Kestrel was faster than he seemed. Moving with the lightning speed of a wild cat, Kestrel caught him around the waist, held him, and forced his head back. It was the work of a moment to get the mixture down his throat, and a bitter taste told Malone that it was much more than a "calming" herbal infusion.

Malone swore as Kestrel released him and as he felt the stuff begin to do its work.

"Well, you had best lie down, Your Highness," Kestrel said, straightening his rumpled coat. "I'll make your excuses to the council since you aren't feeling well this afternoon."

Malone glared at him, then stretched out on his bed. Kestrel drew the curtains and covered him with a light blanket, wishing him "pleasant dreams" as he did so. As Malone drifted off, he wished that his friends were there. On his own, he was practically helpless, but with his friends, surely they could figure a way out of this place together.