“Well? Have we found anything?” asked Malic, the court Jester, slinking into the room. “Or have we been wasting the day, hmmmm?”
Telly flinched at his nasally voice. Unlike most Jesters Malic was not the least bit funny. He failed miserably at humor. He was, however, very clever. Meg and Telly despised him greatly. Prince Thyme, however, refused to give Malic a second thought. He didn’t think the slick-spoken Jester was worth it. Telly tried to agree with Thyme, but something about the Jester was just so creepy, and his was a creepiness that couldn’t be ignored.
Turning, Telly caught the sight of the Jester as he sauntered into the room. He was dressed in his typical three-pronged hat with bells, curly-toed shoes, and black and red checkered clothing. Malic was wiry thin and short, with shoulders that curled forward and knobby knees. His skin stretched taught across his face, highlighting his high, protruding cheek bones and accentuating his crescent moon-like profile.
“The only thing we’ve found is this,” informed a ladies’ maid. She held up an opened box. A few strips of wrapping paper hung from the side. It was also empty, save a bit of dust here and there. Dust was common, but this package was not. Telly had found it earlier in the day, before the emergency was even announced. The moment she had touched it an electric vibration shot through her veins from her fingertips up. Magic.
Telly had kept a wary eye on the box all afternoon. She had it hidden, hoping to show it to Prince Thyme before anyone else. Apparently she wasn’t good at hiding things. Grinding her teeth together she gave the maid a look of agitation.
“A box? That’s it?! That’s all you have to show the King? The Majesty is missing his precious daughter! Who shelters and protects you! Wooden boxes? I. Think. Not,” Malic hissed, giving the maid and the box a dismissive wave. “Move along people. Find other places in the castle to search. The Princess must be found!”
The servants quickly departed, leaving Telly alone with the jester, who grinned at her in a snarly way, showing crooked teeth. “Soooo,” he began, sliding across the floor to Telly. He rubbed his hands together. “Ms. Tellendra. The Princess’s confidant. Quite a pretty girl you are, my dear. Perhaps you can clear some things up for me, hmmm?”
Telly pulled herself to her feet and backed a few steps away. Malic was quick to follow. “Well… sir… I, um.”
“You’re being coy, my dear. No hemming and hawing with me. Just the truth. Where do you think the Princess is?”
Telly felt trapped. “I know less than you do, sir.”
Malic grabbed one of Telly’s long curly tendrils of hair and played with it between his thin-boned fingers.
“Oh? How is it I am supposed to believe that you don’t know where she is? You and the Princess are practically inseparable. You must have seen who took Princess …Meg away.” He paused in the breath where Nut in Nutmeg should have been and grimaced.
From the hallway, screeching like a couple of fired-up banchees, came two unlikely heroes ready for battle. “Weeeeeeeeeaaasssssssseeeelllllll!” they cried.
