Page 88 of The Last Syphon

Over the last week, she’d been secretly stuffing valuables from her bedchamber into a rucksack to send back to them to help. She just had to fucking get there, but Prince Pompous Prick wasn’t allowing that quite yet. Apparently, she still had some trust earning to do.

Fraener sensed her stress through their soul-link, and a wave of comfort washed over her almost instantly. He was so attuned to her feelings and emotions. Something like that should have scared her, but it didn’t. It gave her solace.

Fraener returned from wherever he had flown off to and perched himself on her shoulder, his mere presence helping with her state of mind. By the time they broke for lunch, though, Inara did not wish to sit in the silence she knew would come in Prince Walder’s office.

“Let’s eat lunch in the dining hall.” She remained standing at the open door, one finger caressing under Fraener’s chin. The Guardian trilled in happiness, which brought a smile to her lips.

Prince Walder paused from taking a seat behind his desk, his brows pulled into a confused frown. The heavy, red-scaled armour clinging to his body clinked and clanked as he straightened to a stand. “What?”

Inara gave him the benefit of the doubt, in case he truly had not heard her. “Let’s eat lunch in the dining hall,” she repeated.

“Why would we do that?”

“Because I don’t feel like sitting in complete fucking silence for the next hour, and unfortunately, where you go, I am forced to follow.”

His frown deepened. “I have work to do.”

Inara’s eyes wandered over his desk. Yes. He did. She thought, after all the work he’d done over the last week, that he might be making a dent in that ever-increasing stack of paperwork and scrolls. That was not the case. With every signed document, there were another four to take its place.

It seemed almost never-ending.

She had always thought being a prince or princess would be fun. Filled with excitement and adventure. But so far, all Inara had seen was an endless boredom.

“Come on.” She groaned, stepping further into the room. “Just one hour.”

He shook his head and took a seat, folding his hands in front of him on the desk. “No.”

She twisted her lips in irritation. “Look. I understand that you’re the grand and mighty Crowned Prince. What you say goes. But you can either come with me to the dining hall, where I will be able to enjoy the presence of someone other than yourself, or you can be trapped in this room with me for the next hour while I chat incessantly. Because I simply cannot deal with another hour of pure fucking silence, and if need be, I will sit here and talk to my Fatesdamned self.”

He stared at her and said nothing.

Okay, then.

He had no idea how much she could talk. How much she loved to talk.

She glided over to his desk and began to sift through the scrolls. “What is all this, anyway? This is really fancy paper. Do you have an agreement for everything? How do you make sure you have enough food to feed an entire kingdom? I mean, I handled the food inventory for Deadhaven, but there’s only a hundred people there. I couldn’t imagine doing it on this grand a scale. Oh. Speaking of Deadhaven, can I visit soon? Do I need to put in a request for that?”

Prince Walder remained silent, eyes narrowing slightly.

“I can take Fraener so you don’t have to waste the horse. I’ve never liked horse riding anyway. It hurts my butt. Speaking of butts, your chairs are really comfy. Where do you get them from? Does someone make them for you? They’re very skilled. I always wanted to be a carpenter, but unfortunately, I was shit at it. I once tried to build a chair. It broke the first time someone sat on it. Do you like beef pastries? They’re my favourite kind of food.”

Prince Walder’s right eye began to twitch.

“Oh! Food. Food is amazing, isn’t it? All food. Pastries. Meats. Vegetables. Sweets. Bread. Bread is such a versatile ingredient and can go with just about anything. Do you think I can get a new pair of boots? These ones are nice, but I stepped in shit the other day, and no matter what I do, I can’t get the smell off them⁠—”

“Alright!” Prince Walder stood in a huff. “Alright. Just…stop talking,” he hissed.

She grinned a bright, beaming smile at him. “Wonderful!” She turned and paused. A scroll caught her eye, and she could not help but frown. “Tolanaa?” she asked, pointing at it. “The Dead Kingdom?”

Prince Walder slammed his hand down over the scroll, making her jump. “No. More. Talking.”

“Jeez. Alright, alright.” Inara had obviously out-talked him for the day, so she would ask on the morrow. She spun, pointing to the door. “To the dining hall!”

The dining hall was nowhere near capacity, but there were enough people that the hum of conversation amongst themselves echoed into the air, making her almost breathe out a silent sigh of relief.

Inara wasn’t sure what it was about the silence that she did not like. Perhaps it was that she just did not like the idea of being alone with her thoughts—or, even more concerning, giving her thoughts the opportunity to talk to her.

The Dark Voice.