Mageia squealed and cursed a rebuttal at the royal escorts of Prince Gideon.

"Release me. You cannot take me to him."

"Why not?" said the knight, his grin so wide it made his auburn goatee stretch into a sharp triangle.

"I may be a thief, but I do have some dignity," she said still feeling her skin crawl after the Commander's assault.

Right when he pressed against her, her defenses dropped dead to the floor. His closeness was too hot for reasons she didn't want to feed into. The gentleness of his breath and his touch almost forced her pleading words to choke in her throat. But she managed to psych herself out. How? She'd never figure it out. She just wanted the man to get off. Her words of alliance seemed to work but thank the gods for the soldier.

Lisa had mentioned once when in her early teens of her preserving her virtue for someone who she would love. It never really slapped her hard with an awareness. Friendly eyes would not be the only ones to draw in on her beauty. If she was beautiful... Her body trembled and her knees almost went weak, but the escorts were strong. They barely noticed.

Now she had to fend herself against the pervert prince. Whispers in the dark spoke stories of how Prince Gideon enjoyed the intimate company of Strange women and men. Whether he was kind to them or not, she did not want to find out.

"Never mind your dignity. You'll be in the Halls of the Gods soon enough. Holy Dawnis will care less about your so-called dignity when you're serving him hand and foot."

Mageia rolled her eyes with a scold. "You Fair people are delusional."

"Just shut your mouth and get walkin'," said the soldier who wasn't much of a talker.

She recalled how easily the escorts extracted her from the Commander and for the first time realized what little power he had. It was no wonder his temperament was short and orders sharp and direct. Then again... that eerie smile he gave in his strange altercation with the handsome blue-eyed soldier could not be ignored.

What were they concealing and what was a good letter? Whatever they were it had something to do with the scroll the Commander took and the pin her silent fingers had slipped from his pocket when he came to reclaim her.

She swirled the red pin between her fingers proud that it was a perfect fit for her shackles. However, thanks to the goatee knight and his unnecessary use of force, she couldn't unlock them.

Their winding pathway led them through the palace to an outdoor corridor with long rows of archways slowly being smothered with colorful vines. The palace as an entirety swallowed them up on both sides of them, its grayish tan stone blocks larger than her and both escorts' heads together. She cringed just imagining the pain of them crushing a person.

"I will say this, good sirs," she said eyes skimming the walls, the windows, the entrances, the pillars, adjoining pathways and courtyards, the guard outposts, the gates, the trees, and even the slaves dressed in their plain uniforms for ways of escape. "If that prince puts a finger on me, I will harm him. Best take me to the Taefo and leave me there to rot until I'm taken to the Dungeons."

The soldier snorted. The goatee knight halted for a second, ruffled her up to his snarling nose, "Try harming His Highness and you won't have to wait to rot in a cell. I will relieve you to the hands of the gods without delay."

Mageia glared and felt the urge to rip his large nose right off his puny face. "Just like the Commander, you all are just stupid loyal little doggies."

He ruffled her up again and raised a hand to strike her, but the soldier caught it.

"Aye, Merlin. Why don't you go and let me take her the rest of the way?"

"Yeah Merlin, listen to your friend," Mageia said with a smirk.

Merlin growled then grumbled a curse, retracting his hand. "Be quick about it. It's near into our break."

"I'll meet you at our spot, no worries. Let me take the Strange to Gid a'fore you do something you'll regret."

The goatee knight huffed and shoved her into his companion. Giving her one last glare, he spat to the side, and strolled away.

Mageia relaxed her shoulders, but the ordeal was not over yet. She looked to the dark-skinned knight who was watching his friend leave with an unreadable expression in his eyes.

What's this one up too? She wondered.

"Come on," he said hand griping her arm almost near to puncturing it. He yanked her onward until finally they entered a part of the palace.

"Quick now," he uttered, eyes glancing side to side as if he was truly up to something.

"What's wrong?" she asked.

"Just shut your mouth Strange and keep walkin'."

She caught eyes with slaves walking by who didn't look so happy to see her or the knight. She tried fumbling with the lock of the shackles, but the pin's point was wetting from the sweat of her hands. The last thing she wanted was to drop the pin, her only means of a true escape.

"Sir, you seem like a good man. Don't hand me over to the devil. I'm a pure girl and if I am to see the gods soon, I don't want this to mark me to darkness."

"We all are marked for darkness either way," she heard him mumble his eyes focused on the task at hand.

Two guards turned onto their hall some feet away, and instantly, the soldier yanked her down the closest hall.

Now she was sure he was up to something. "Um... Are you trying to help me escape?"

"You wish," he murmured, eyes dark and focused.

A tinge of fear unraveled in her nerves which she didn't want in this time where panic was not an option. However, her body fell into defense mode realizing this man could have bad intentions like the Commander's and Gideon's. She tried forcing them to a halt.

"Please don't try anything stupid," he grumbled.

"But what're you doing?"

His grip loosened just a bit. Enough to plant a good strike with her elbow into his exposed gut. He arched over with a grunt, but not enough to incapacitate him. She managed to take a few steps before he grabbed her. His strength was a great surprise because she lurked backwards and was slammed face first into another wall.

"Agh," she screamed beginning to hate ending up like this.

His whole hand gripped the back of her head, so it was hard to relieve her face from the cold wall. "Stop it, I tell you. Gods above. If we both are caught in this part, we both are dead. Now stop it."

She wanted to ask what he was talking about, but she couldn't. Men talking arose from a hallway. He cursed, grabbed her, and yanked her down another hall. They were moving fast, and she was speechless.

Was he helping her escape? Did Dean or Faebrin perhaps make a deal with this soldier?

Mageia rubbed her cheek most likely swelling more and noticed they had entered a very dingy part of the palace. They approached a pair of stairs where slaves who were standing about in a deep conversation quickly scattered. That's when she realized where they were.

"Why are we in the slave quarters?"

"Shut it."

She wondered why the guard wasn't afraid of the slaves. Weren't they just as loyal as the guards and soldiers? Or perhaps the slaves were not loyal to any royal because of their crude punishment of lifelong servitude? She didn't know what to think or what to do?

One thing was for sure, since they entered this part, she saw not a single guard, soldier, or knight. This made her fumble proud and sure with the pin waiting to be used. They ascended the winding staircase, footsteps echoing and bouncing off the plain walls. Not a single portrait, painting, or anything pretty sat about to please visiting eyes.

Once on an unknown floor, they approached a long corridor adorned with windows. The plain area turned to uneventful, close to being marked as vacant or inhabitable. The walls were a musty gray like rusting iron and every curtain was a different color, pattern, and size as if the designer and the housekeepers of the palace lost interest in their work.

"What is this place?"

"A surprise," he grumbled and dragged her down the corridor.

She studied the archway leading into the corridor and wondered if this was a cursed section of the palace. For the soldier to be so fidgety to be caught by guards but oblivious of the slaves, one would think he was a secret advocate for the Strange. Perhaps a silent opposer of the wicked laws.

Now, this made her unsure. With steady cautious feet, she continued down the corridor. She glanced at almost every window, ten to be exact, preparing for some unseen danger to sprout from the ugly curtains. A terrible thought then popped into her head.

What if this was where Prince Gideon kept his Strange whores?

"Is this where Prince Gideon does his perversions?"

"This is not Prince Gideon's chambers."

"Then who's?"

He pulled the chain to the bell by the door, and it chimed down the corridor and echoed beyond the door. Within minutes, the door unlocked and with one swift motion the right door opened, and a servant man scrunched his nose at them. His thin lips opened and closed, opened, and closed unsure to speak or stay silent.

"I can't believe you actually did it, Dargany."

"Look. I'll be back in an hour to fetch her. Unfortunately, we found her with the Commander, so tell him to reduce it to an hour no more."

"I'll inform him," the servant said then gave her disapproving scan and stepped aside. "Come in, girl."

The soldier shoved her forward, giving her no choice but to enter. Then the soldier was gone, and the door slammed shut.

She scrunched her nose at the sight before her and the smell of stale spices and eggs that seem to hang unmoving in the air. She stood in the entrance of a circular sitting area with clothing and apparels stacked high on the sofas and cushions. The rug was crummy, and the wooden floor was scratched, scuffed, and dusty. Other than the tall, glassed windows along the walls that gave little to nonlight and lanterns, candles, and torches were the main decorations.

A large dining table also occupied divided the sitting room from a messy mini-kitchen on the right. A thick curtain hung from the ceiling dividing the kitchen from a what could be called an open bedroom. The bed was king-sized, unmade and littered with clothing along with a dresser, and a massive wardrobe. To her left behind the sitting room was a door to an inside privy and washroom and a staircase that curved upward to a balcony that overlooked the entrance.

"Is this where Prince Gideon keep his whores? Tell me the truth, a Strange to a Strange."

He scuffed, his eyes scolding her as if the question was an insult.

"This place may be poor to the sight, but it is far from such defilement," he then shook his head. "No, you are here for another reason, and it deals nothing with whores."

"What is it then?" she said studying the slim slave who apparently was of a higher position by his fancy attire.

"The Prince's quarters."

Mageia fought a chuckle. "You mean, Prince Gideon lives here?"

"Oh, gods no," he scuffed shaking his head. "You're in Prince Grisonce's quarters."

She gasped feeling sick all over again. "You mean the Strange Prince?"