Page 13 of Heartbreak Prince

“What is wrong with you?” I snap. “He’s a human being. Granted, a drunk and dirty one, but that could have been you, if you were born in different circumstances.”

“I wasn’t thinking.” The prince’s breathing is short and shallow, and he’s trembling in my grip. His reaction probably stemmed from panic, not cruelty. Aside from our conflict-riddled walk through the forest, he hasn’t had time to cope with what’s happening. And he won’t be able to deal with any of it until we get some reliable news.

To my relief, I spot a double row of shops and eateries ahead, a few of which still have their lamps lit.

“Here we go,” I mutter to him. “Leave the talking to me. If you open your mouth, they’ll know you don’t belong around here.”

I survey the available options and choose an open-air noodle shop with a covered patio. A few patrons cluster around the tables, cupping their mugs and talking excitedly.

I hop onto a stool at the bar, and Vawn takes the one beside me.

The seller wipes her hands on her apron. “What’ll you have?”

I take out the two cigarettes I reserved. They are the finest quality available in the capital, sure to tempt anyone in this district. “Whatever these will buy, and any news you have.”

“News?” She clucks her tongue and takes the cigarettes. “The same news is everywhere tonight. The royal family slaughtered, both the Molloi and Arbogast lines wiped from the world. Wretched business, if you ask me, although some folks seem a little too excited. They think change will bring good things for us here in Brasspool. Not likely. It’s all rich bastards swapping around titles and wealth while us regular folk keep our heads down and survive.”

“Too true.”

She sets two bowls of cheesy noodles in front of us, and when I pull mine closer, her eyes drop to my glyphs. Her gaze lifts, suspicion and jealousy replacing her former friendliness. “You look like you’re doing pretty well for yourself there.”

“A gift from an uncle,” I say. “Nearly worn off, unfortunately, and I won’t ever have a full set again, most likely.”

“How about your friend?” The seller eyes Vawn. “Doesn’t he like noodles?”

“He’s not hungry.” I drag his bowl toward me. “Do you have any idea who might have organized this whole thing? Assassinating the royals?”

She shakes her head. “They wore purple uniforms, a shade not belonging to any noble house in the land. No foreign insignia either, just a few thin chains on the shoulders and chest. And they wore helmets covered in tiny crystals. No one’s ever seen the like. Custom-made, I’d say.”

“But everything is traceable,” I muse. “There has to be a tailor who created those uniforms, and a source for the fabric, dyed in that specific shade.”

“What’s your interest in all this?” asks the woman.

“Same as yours,” I reply lightly. “Has anyone claimed the throne?”

“The palace is locked down, guarded by the purple ones. No announcements yet, but I’ll wager there will be tomorrow.” She casts another keen look at Vawn. “What’s wrong with him?”

I glance over. Two liquid lines have slipped from beneath Vawn’s mask, glimmering wetly on his exposed mouth.

Tears.

I have to get him out of here.

“Thank you for the food.” I rise abruptly and hustle him out of the patio area.

“But you didn’t eat anything!” calls the woman.

I march Vawn down the street and steer him into an alley. Light from a nearby street lamp filters in, but the shadows are deep enough that we should be safe for a moment.

The prince tears off his mask and flings it down. He props himself against the alley wall and bends forward, clasping both thighs and sucking in harsh breaths. Each one rattles in his throat and shakes his shoulders. The speed of his breathing frightens me.

“They’re gone,” he says. “Fuck. All gone. It’s true, it’s true, they’re gone. Terith would have loved those noodles.” His face crumples, and he muffles a wrenching sob with his hand.

Terith. The sister born a year before him. The second princess.

The prince goes rigid, his body tight as he struggles with his agony.

“I can’t—” he gasps. “I can’t—can’t breathe—”