The Runner & The Dethroned Chap. 3

“His majesty wants to see him?”
A disgusted voice wakes me from my slumber. Blinking until I can see clearly, before my cell stands Mitch and a pretty girl who looks out of place here.

“Yes, Mitch.” The girl says with an exasperated sigh. “And bring Barker.” The girl turns on her heel;. Her red hair sways behind her as she stalks out of the prison.

Mitch makes a disgusted face, then turns to me. I immediately jump to my feet, sticking my face up to the bars again.

“Change your mind?” I ask, a smile stretching upon my face. “I knew you guys would let me out. My mama always says everyone has a soft side.”

The guard snorts, and I step back as he pushed open the cell door. Grabbing the chain connected to my wrist, he yanks me out.

“And I’m sure your mommy would be so proud of you right now.”

“You know, Mitch.” I say with a sigh. “You are so right.”

Mitch replies with a groan,, gives me another unnecessary yank, and starts yelling for Barker. We find him talking to the guards outside.

“Barker!” Mitch snaps. “I need you.”

Saying one last thing to the guards, he walks over. “What’s happening?” He asks, looking from me to Mitch.

“Apparently, His Majesty wants to see this punk. Why, I don’t know. But help me anyway.”

Barker somewhat rolls his eyes, then grabs the chain on my left. “Let’s go.”

They drag me through the streets to a gated off area.

“So…” I say. “King Elliot... Is he nice?”

Barker just chuckles and keeps walking.

I roll my eyes. “You know, you guys are really bad at this whole conversation thing.”

Proving my point, neither of the guards reply as we approach two wooden doors, guarded by three more goons. Walking right past them, we enter into the castle before us and my jaw drops. This room itself is about three times bigger than my hideout. The ground is lined with plush velvet carpet, and the walls are filled with beautiful art. Halls greet me on both sides, doors lining them. In the middle of the room is a fountain, which seems to be made out of pure gold. The doors the guards are leading me to are pure mahogany.

“Stay here,” Barker says, then enters the double doors.
Inside I hear two voices, a male and a female. The guys voice is golden, almost buttery, and the girl talks with perfect pronunciation and grammar.

“You see,” the male voice says. “I really love this colour, but I feel like it clashes with my skin-tone. You know what I mean?”

There’s a pause, before the girl replies with, “I think the colour compliments you, Your Majesty.”

I hear Barker clear his throat. “Your Highness? We have the prisoner.”

Someone claps their hands. “Oh, swell. Bring him in!” the male orders.

Mitch pushes through the doors, dragging me along.

Before me is Barker, the girl that was in the prison earlier, and a guy, who I’m guessing is the king.

He’s sprawled out very un-king-like way on his throne. His midnight black hair looks as it wasn’t brushed this morning, but the messy-ness stops there. He’s wearing salmon-coloured silk pajamas, which definitely does not clash with his caramel coloured, perfect skin. His eyes are piercingly blue, and under are a set of high cheekbones and blinding white teeth.

“Barker, Mitch, my two favourite guards.” King Elliot jumps off his throne, sauntering towards us.

“Your Majesty,” they both say in unison, giving a curt nod.

The King laughs, slapping Barker on the back with an open hand. “You two crack me up. Tell ya’ what. Since you both have been working so hard today, why don’t you take a little break, eh?”

“Sir, I-” Barker starts.

“Nonsense. You both need it.”

Mitch shrugs, obviously not wanting to give up the chance of a day off. “It’s greatly appreciated, Your Highness.”

“Don’t mention it!” The king says with a brush of his hand. “Hey, I’ll even let you use my Jacuzzi.”

When the guards are gone, Elliot turns his attention to me.

“Oh, oh my.” He gasps. “You are a mess, aren’t you?” He looks me up and down. “...where’s your shirt?” He asks slowly.

I don’t answer. I’ve heard myths that speaking to a King is very rude, even if spoken to.

After a moment of silence, King Elliot frowns, taking a step towards me. “Let me ask you again. Why, are you shirtless?”

I just look at him.

Clearly frustrated, the King takes yet another step towards me. “Let me ask you, Mr. Steele. Are you deaf?”

I shake my head quickly.

“Mute?”
“No Sir.”

Inhaling, the king stares at me for a few moments, then steps away. “Good, I’m glad we got that outta’ the way. Cause, let’s be honest, that would be awkward. I don’t know sign-language.”