The Puppet Prince

A Coot and a Concoction

The two spent hours in Gwynne's lavish bedroom, discussing their journey's details. His favorite books lined the walls and the bed was decorated with a large, blue, patchwork quilt. Glowing orbs, like in the library, floated softly around the room and hummed their quiet song. They sat at a metal table in the corner of the room, where Gwynne often spent his time writing and reading in private. The cushions on the stools were embroidered with swords and crowns, his mother's work. Everything in that room reminded him of his parents. On the far right wall sat an enchanted portrait that moved, like a moment frozen in time. It was the three of them, on his eighth birthday, celebrating his win in the swordsmanship competition. That was a fond memory he often lingered on.

Per the map they were studying, it would be about a weeks-long trip and neither knew what they were going to do about running the castle.

 "I can't just leave the place without anyone to do my job," Gwynne argued. 

"You could leave me..." "No John, I'm not ready to let you do that yet," He flashed the re-established advisor a knowing look. 

"Ok then... how about we put one of the council members in charge?" John suggested.

Gwynne had little trust in the palace's staff but they were short on options.

"I guess that could work. But what if everyone in the palace become suspicious of my disappearance and we have a repeat of everything outside? At least the staff here understood I wasn't just off doing whatever I wanted but I highly doubt they'll have blind faith in this situation." 

John sat and thought for a moment before grinning, "We could disguise one of the old coots using the mages' spells," he continued, "Of course, we would do it in secret and only tell the council member and mage involved." 

They both decided to go through with this plan and snuck into the council office.

It was a large room built somewhat like that of a court. In a curved row sat nine menacing looking elderly who wore extravagant robes. Gwynne often avoided their assistance due to outdated methods, slow-talking patterns, and overall scary statures. Out of all of them though the prince hated the one on the far left the most. He was a squat man, wide and wrinkled who always wore red robes and rectangular glasses, that failed to hide his snake-like eyes. Everything about this man caused sirens to go off in Gwynne's head. But, he was the only other person in the palace proven to know how to rule, for he was the advisor during his father's rule. When Gwynne had taken over for his parents, he had almost immediately removed the past advisor and replaced him with John, due to the deep-rooted trust and the fact that he just couldn't stand being near the geezer for more than a few minutes. The two uncomfortably scuttled over to his desk across the wide room and pulled him out from behind his pedestal and into a broom closet. 

"I would really like to know why whatever you so desperately need to say can't be communicated at the comfort of my council desk," the advisor grumbled, emphasizing council just to jab at Gwynne.

The prince rolled his eyes and explained in a questioning tone, "Of course Frasier. We need to be out of the palace for a couple of days and were wondering if you could possibly stand in for me?"

 Most people he could handle, but not Frasier, the man scared him to death. John didn't fall for the old coot's guise though and stood as straight as possible in the cramped closet. 

He chimed in, "It won't be a long trip, and by the duty of your position you technically have no say in whether or not you participate." 

John had a wonderful Business voice and it always shocked Gwynne to see that side of him, since they were often quite casual with one another. With a heavy sigh, Frasier agreed and they made their way up to the Mages tower.

The staircase spiraled high and it felt like they climbed miles before reaching the top. Despite its slender appearance on the outside, the room inside was large and held up to fifteen different workstations, where many mages were intently concentrated on their craft. Frasier leaned against the marble wall wheezing, whilst Gwynne and John marched over to the nearest mage. She was a girl about his age who had an intelligent appearance. Her blonde hair was in a tight bun and she wore a white lab coat which barely brushed her ankles, due to her extreme height. She stood a little taller than six feet and her slender frame created an otherworldly effect.

Her head from some vials and she gave the prince a curious look, "How can I help you, your majesty?"

Gwynne stood up a little straighter, failing to reach her height, and cleared his throat, "Yes, is there some sort of spell or concoction that can change a person's appearance? Specifically to look like me....?" he drug out the last bit, feeling slightly awkward with how the question sounded aloud. 

John bit his lip trying not to laugh at Gwynne's fumbling. 

She stared at them for a moment before walking over to a crooked, messy, bookshelf. The two exchanged curious looks before the mage turned back around and held out a large dusty tome. 

"This should be what you're looking for. Problem is it's not an easy concoction," she mocked making Gwynne shift, "I can most likely have it for you by tomorrow evening." 

Frasier finally stalked up behind them and abruptly piped into the conversation, "This won't hurt, will it?" 

The mage laughed and shook her head, "No not at all," her tone darkened, "What exactly are we trying to pull off here?" 

The three of them fell silent and Gwynne finally admitted, "I need to get out of the castle for a few days without anyone finding out." 

Her eyebrows raised and she swiftly got to work without another word. 

After waiting impatiently at the foot of the stairs to the tower for hours, Gwynne gave up and headed to the kitchen for something to eat. Waiting there obviously was not speeding up the process and boredom had gotten the better of him. The large kitchen lay eerily empty due to none of the staff being on duty that late at night. He quietly tiptoed to the large walk-in pantry and grabbed all of the ingredients needed to make his mother's delicious matcha dark chocolate brownies. Whenever Gwynne was stressed, he would often either order or make the brownies himself. Baking came naturally to him and it was one of his hidden talents that he kept from the world, due to embarrassment. Once the dark chocolatey grass smell spilled out of the oven, Gwynne pulled them out and began to snack until full. Once satisfied, he snuck into his room and went to bed as the sun rose.

Finally, the mage had sent for them to meet her in Gwynne's office.

"We sure this will work?" John inquired.

"It'll only change his voice and appearance. When it comes to mannerisms he's on his own," she jabbed her head towards Frasier and he let out a deep gruff.

John clapped his hands together and sighed, "We're doomed." 

She handed the vile to Frasier, ignoring the uptight advisor. Gwynne watched the councilman down the entire ugly green bubbling liquid in a single swig. 

Disgusted, Frasier gagged, "What on earth brought you to make something as disgusting as this."

 John and Gwynne stared at him intently until she informed them, "It's not going to fully take effect for another hour and a half so you two may as well start packing." 

The two young men nodded and headed off to prepare for their journey.

Valeigha - Heyo! How are you doing? I just remembered that I'm supposed to change the paragraph every time a character speaks. XoX For this part I went ahead and fixed and now Im going to go back and fix those other parts so they are a little more...legible. I hope since you've gotten this far it wasn't too unbearable. I swear though, juggling four characters in one paragraph was getting tiring lol. Welp have a good one and please hit the star if you enjoyed it! Xoxo.