Prince Edgar sat alone at the back of the dais, happy to be overlooked while his older brother passed judgement on the peasants before them. Edgar had originally had much more enjoyable plans for his day but his parents, or rather his mother, had insisted he be present for the first court session of the new season. He was expected to take a greater interest in running the kingdom now that he was a proper man. He was twenty-one now, and it was time he began taking a more prominent role in the kingdom. Not that it really mattered as he would never rule this kingdom or any other. Nevertheless, his mother maintained her high if somewhat deluded aspirations of him marrying a beautiful princess from a prospering kingdom and living happily ever after, procreating in abundance until the end of their days. While he hated to disappoint his parents - even though it was something he appeared to be quite adept at at the moment - there was little chance of his marrying a princess. At least not the kind they wanted in the family. This was just another attempt by the Queen of making a ‘proper’ royal out of her youngest son. 

“You shall pay six silver coins and spend one night and day in the stocks.”

Edgar glanced up at his brother’s proclamation just in time to see a starved and filthy farmer collapse into his wife’s burly arms. The punishment seemed a little harsh considering the offence. 

“My Lord,” the woman bellowed, “you can’t do this to us. We don’t have six silver coins. We don’t even have one silver coin. My husband is innocent.”

The prince looked bored. What did he care if they could pay or not? All he was here for was to pass judgement. The farmer’s wife moved closer to his seat, stopped only by the two guards who held a stroking resemblance to a brick wall. The prince yawned. “You can’t pay? Fine. A week in the stocks.”

This time her wordless bellow was filled with distress. The couple clung to each other as they were escorted, practically carried, from the room by two of the many guards as the older prince turned and winked at Edgar.

“Enjoying yourself Ed?”

“Just smashing, thanks for asking. No need to ask if you are.” The replying grin was that of a child pulling the legs off a spider - full of a spiteful enjoyment. It made the younger prince’s stomach turn.

“Excuse me, Prince Charming.”

“What?” Charming looked down in disdain at the aide kneeling before him.

“Luncheon is to be served in ten minutes in the Great Hall.”

“Court dismissed,” Charming announced to the room at large as he waved the servant away. “I’m starving.”

Edgar stood up from the wooden chair he had been perching on for three hours and stretched his stiff limbs. Hopefully he wouldn’t be forced back to witness the afternoon session as well. If he escaped to his rooms quickly enough they might all forget about him and let him have some peace and quiet. He aimed for the nearest door, hoping to avoid any conversation. His brother caught up with him before he had taken a dozen steps.

“Have lunch with me.” It was an order, not a request. Charming didn’t do requests.

“Of course.”

They marched through the corridors at a pace that made Edgar’s breath come in desperate, hushed gasps. Servants ducked through doorways and leapt behind suits of armour to avoid being in the path of the two princes. It would have been comical if it weren’t for the fear apparent in their eyes even form a distance. They weren’t worried about Edgar, but it was a common fact that court sessions tired Charming. More often than not  he was likely to take out his foul mood on whoever was unfortunate enough to stand before him. The palace servants had learnt that the hard way, some still bearing the scars of their close encounters. Best to just get out of the way and drop whatever you were carrying than risk permanent damage.

“So, what’s happening with you little brother?”

Edgar sighed. This conversation again.

“Oh, you know. A million and one things that all pale in significance to your golden achievements.” Charming laughed his deep, booming laugh. Edgar hadn’t been joking, but in his brother’s defence sarcasm was a tricky concept to grasp. He clapped Edgar heavily on the back with one meaty paw, almost sending him sprawling into a nearby wall.

“You always know how to  cheer me up. Seriously though, any progress on the wife front?”

Edgar hated this question. No, he hadn’t chosen a wife: he didn’t like the potential wives that were paraded in front of him and, more importantly, he didn’t actually want a wife. But he couldn’t tell his family that. You would think that one overly masculine and virile son would be enough for most parents. Not theirs though. Every day a different girl was presented to Edgar for him to examine, interrogate and hopefully fall madly in love with. The closest he had come to marrying was a rather passionate game of chess with… one of them. The name sadly escaped him. Needless to say, she was far too independent and headstrong for their family, even if Edgar had been interested.

Charming was still waiting for an answer. Edgar put on his best smile. “You know me. Too picky for my own good.” Charming shook his head uncomprehending as he blasted through the double doors to the Great Hall.

“Gotta get hitched soon,” he called over his shoulder, “or all the best ones will be taken before you know it.”

Their parents were already sat at the oversized table. Usually set for fifty people, there were a mere four places today. Charming kissed their mother on the cheek before seating himself in his usual position at the head of the table. Edgar followed reluctantly. If there was one thing worse than having lunch with his parents, it was having lunch with his parents in this hall meant for hundreds. 

“What are you both talking about?” Queen Agatha asked, offering her cheek to her youngest son. He obliged before taking his seat opposite her. The king sat beside his wife, looking like he would rather be anywhere but here. 

“Just telling Ed he needs to hurry up and get a wife.”

“Your brother isn’t wrong,” the Queen agreed, indicating to the nearest servant that they should commence with lunch. “I’m running out of suggestions. It’s about time you settled down.”

“I’ll settle down when I’m good and ready.” Edgar placed his napkin in his lap as he was brought his first dish. Would there ever come a day when they didn’t eat six different courses for lunch? His stomach turned at the sight of his meal and he raised his eyes. His mother was sat watching him, eyebrows raised expectantly.

“Is there a problem dear?” she asked, in a voice coated with honey and dipped in sugar. Edgar took a slow, deep breath. Now was not a time to blaze in and fire at random. He needed to focus on the target and aim accordingly.

“You know there is Mother. Why have I been given eels again?”

Time stopped for a moment. Edgar and his mother glared at each other across the table. The king tried to hone his magical skills and disappear, appearing anywhere else but in this room with his family. Even Charming looked uncomfortable: it would appear that he had some comprehension of what was going on for once. A rare occurrence indeed. The queen spoke very slowly and clearly.

“The menu for dinner is as follows: eels in puree, bacon broth, meat tile, beef marrow fritters, cod liver pastries and smoked haddock. If you have a problem with the food provided to you in this castle, I suggest you arrange your own meals from now on.”

“What, no salad?” The King’s derision was ignored by some, completely missed by others.

Edgar stood up from his chair in disgust. “I’m no longer hungry.”

Keira looked up from her desk at the sound of a strangled roar. She sighed. It had been four years and there was still so much noise every day. Keira thought that it would have come to accept its fate by now, just like she had, and they could live peacefully together. She carefully stacked the papers together, stowed away her pen and ink and began the long descent. Every day she regretted choosing the highest room of the tallest tower as her home, but it just seemed so much unnecessary effort to move all of her things now. She wasn’t even sure if any of the other rooms were habitable. There were the few she used as store rooms but some of the others didn’t even have roofs, though she could easily be mistaken. The last time she had really explored every inch of the castle was when she had first arrived as a bored young teenager. She smiled at the memory. So much had happened since then it felt like a lifetime ago.

She reached the bottom of the stairs and stopped short. A large, slightly mud-stained panda lay snoring, using the first step as his pillow. Keira wasn’t sure of the best way to proceed, though she had several ideas about how she would like to wake him. This wasn’t the first time she had found him in such a position and she knew it wouldn’t be the last. Clearly it had been a late night and the stairs were the last insurmountable straw. Still, she had found him in worse places.

As the princess stood debating her choices the bear rolled over and yawned widely, choking her in a cloud of whiskey fumes. Foul noises erupted from both ends of the animal as he struggled to his feet - four didn’t seem to be quite enough as he fought for his balance, attempting to look up at the same time. Keira watched with a sardonic smile, arms crossed over her chest as she relaxed against the wall of the staircase. Though sympathy would have been kinder she liked to know he was suffering after his escapades.

“Good night?” she asked. He tried to nod his head but soon quickly as his stomach began to lurch.

“One would assume so.” His voice was croaky with sleep and the consequences of the previous night. He followed along behind the princess as she continued on her way to the dungeon. “I found myself chatting to the most amiable fellow in the village and he invited me to join him in a few beverages.”

“A few beverages?” The disbelief was obvious in Keira’s tone.

“You doubt me, madam?”

“Only so long as the sun sets in the west and gold is finer than silver.” Offended, the beast turned his back and began to return to the stairs. Keira rolled her eyes. He could be so touchy when he had a hangover. “Barry, wait. I’m sorry.” He stopped. “I’m sure it was only a few.” He turned back to her. “Now, would you like to accompany me to see our guest? She’s already complaining and I don’t think I have the patience for her alone. Not today.”

There was a moment of feigned deliberation before Barry returned to the princess’ side and they headed deeper into the castle. He didn’t have the energy to be a drama queen today. He barely had the energy to walk through the castle at their very slow, Sunday morning pace, but he managed it somehow. He would need to sit down before much time passed and hopefully have a large glass of water. Soon they had to stop so Keira could light a torch and together they descended the last staircase.

A familiar smell struck them as soon as they left the ground floor: a mixture of burning bone and roast mutton that hit the back of your throat and made your eyes water. They descended slowly, their eyes taking a moment to adjust to the gloom. Unconsciously falling into their usual roles, Keira kept her eyes firmly on the dragon while Barry scoured the corners of the room for eggs or fallen scales. Every part of the dragon was a potential sale.

“GET OUUUTTTT!”

The pair were blown back by the pure power of the voice, a bellow so loud it shook the castle walls. Keira waited a moment before continuing down the stairs. Barry was always more hesitant when the beast was in this kind of mood. He took the chance to sit down and cradle his thumping head, worse now after that greeting.

“Good morning to you too.”

The only response this time was a guttural roar that buffeted her where she stood. She was pushed backwards, falling to her backside as she lost her footing on the slick stone. A flash of pain shot up through her back.

“Must you be so unwelcoming?” 

A frosty laugh issued from the darkness.

“My apologies,” the dragon replied, her massive head emerging into the light. “I should be more gracious to my most noble hosts. Please, help yourself to the products of my body. Can I offer you a shaving of my claw, or perhaps a vial of my tears? They’re yours for the taking.”

“That was a special order,” Keira said dismissively. “I don’t think you realise how much that idiot paid for them.”

“Of course I don’t, you won’t tell me what you make or where the money goes, or how much longer I will have to endure this treatment.”

Keira sighed, bored of this same conversation they had every time she came down here. Barry appeared from the gloom, tottering on his back legs with a glittering green egg clutched between his front paws. She hadn’t even realised he had left the staircase. For an overweight bear who drank too many spirits and smoked too many cigars he could certainly move when the mood took him. Keira exchanged the egg for her torch and briefly examined it for cracks and imperfections. She could feel the dragon’s eyes on her the whole time. This egg was particularly stunning. 

“Do you mind?”

Keira looked up from her examination and smiled her sweetest smile.

“My apologies. It’s been a pleasure but I’m sure you understand we have some work to be doing now.”

“And I’ll be fed when?”

Keira paused in her ascent up the stairs and considered.

“Later.”

“Shall I make us some tea?” Barry suggested when they reached the relative comfort of her room.

“Good idea.”

Keira pulled a chair up to window while he went to fetch some water. The sun was high in the sky giving her the perfect amour of light with which to examine the egg. It was a task she never rushed. This egg was particularly fine from what she had gathered from her initial examination in the dungeon. The colour was unusual, a shade of emerald that she hadn’t come across from this dragon before. She was relieved to know that this alone would increase the price. Not that she usually worried, but she hoped this egg would be decorative rather than medicinal - it seemed a shame to destroy such a beautiful specimen. Barry came back in as Keira reached for a particular roll of parchment on her desk. He placed the two cups of tea down before passing it to her.

“Thanks.”

“A rare one?” he enquired, peering into her lap where the egg was cradled. She nodded, already distracted examining her own figures and statistics. For some time Keira had been comparing the quality of the eggs to the moon cycles of their production. She had come to realise that eggs produced under the full moon were of a higher quality than those produced during other phases of the moon. This made particular sense when one considered how dragons gained their strength from lunar light, being a largely nocturnal species. One of the main reasons the windowless dungeon was the perfect place to house a dragon.

“Should I make some enquiries?”

“I think so. When will Hay be around again?”

“Hector will know. I’ll pop out to the tavern this evening and find out what’s what.”

That woman that creature where does she get the nerve she’s so brazen not even a modicum of decorum no respect for me I could swallow her in one bite torture her slowly with my claws the way Sala did to the witch of Anwar but she doesn’t bat an eyelid doesn’t address me with respect doesn’t even pretend to care about me about my conditions and that creature that comes with her that stinks and waddles around searching for me for the parts of me that are no longer me I shouldn’t let her get away with it I should put the fear I  her so that she trembles to even think my name I was such a fool to trust her I wish I’d never found this place I knew a human place would never be good could never be good I should have stayed in the mountains maybe gone to the forest should have stopped before I saw a human should have known no good ever comes from them we know that I was always told always warned never trust them never let them near and now here I am trapped my children stolen from me she’s taken enough from me I’m not just some crop to be harvested I’m a living breathing creature like her why won’t she just let me live in peace I can’t make her that much money there must be some reason for this for why she does this why she feels she has to harvest a living creature one day I’ll show her I’ll break free of here and find her and show her how it feels to have the pieces of you torn away and sold one by one to the highest bidder