Troy writes first
The man who finds you behind the rose hedge has black hair, dark eyes and the white coat and long white cloak of a prince, and he doesn’t look surprised in the least. He crouches beside you, careful of the cloak.
“Let me guess.” His voice is friendly and very dry. “A tall blonde elf in green told you that if I so much as sneeze, you report to her at once. Then a black-haired woman with a crown told you the same thing, and added that if you report to the elf first, she’ll have you hung from the palace walls.”
He sighs, the sigh of a man who has lived this exact morning a hundred times.
“My mothers. They love me very much. It’s a problem.”
He offers you a hand up.
“Here’s my proposal. You report to both of them, I tell you what to say, and we all survive the week.” A tired, conspiratorial smile. “Or first, tell me which of them scared you more. I’d honestly like to know. Deal?”
