Page 102 of Of Monsters Of Kings

The monster’s skin was gray and possessed a waxy quality that gave the impression of leathery toughness and none-too-recent death. Tears stretched in his skin, like a beast’s yawn where drool stretched between upper and lower lip. He didn’t have a trace of hair on his body or face. No eyebrows or lashes or chest hair.

“You have a lot of arms,” I croaked.

Two of his arms were occupied with holding parchment and a quill.

The monster tilted his head. “I found two arms weren’t enough for all I had to do. I pushed some of myself into more of them.”

“And that’s why your skin tears in places. How wonderful.”

He frowned and smiled at the same time. “Thank you. I believe it wondrous too. I…” The monster shook his head. “Name!”

I propped on my elbows. Goodness, I was still in my nightgown. I’d fallen from my conservatory and must’ve sustained considerable injury to have lost consciousness.

“Questions asked kindly are questions I will answer, sir,” I told the monster.

He stared, still poised to jot down my answer on his parchment. “Please, lady, what is your name?”

I answered, “Lady Patch. And what is yours, if I may ask?”

“You may. I am Prince Sign.”

“Another prince. How lovely to meet you, Prince Sign. Have you been the eye in my conservatory?”

“No, Lady Patch.” He blinked a few times, then jotted something on his parchment, though his movements had lost their briskness.

I rolled to my feet and looked about.

I stood on a floating platform in the middle of thousands of staircases. No stairs connected my platform to any other, and my stomach lurched as I spun in a circle only to find stairs in every direction—above and below, near and distant. For as far as my eyes could see, there was nothing but stairs everywhere—short and long, curved and straight.

This kingdom scared me where no other had.

“Where do these stairs go, Prince Sign?” I asked.

His scratching stopped. “Where they need to.”

“So if I need to go home, then a stairwell would take me there?” Except this platform had no stairs.

“Lady, you misunderstand. The stairwells go where my liege needs them to. Of course, if your need aligned with his need or if you formed a deal with him for your need, then your stairwell would lead where you needed.” He cleared his throat. “Why did I tell you that?”

“Thank you,” I replied. “Is this my stairwell then? It has no stairs.” Another thought occurred to me. “If this is mine, then do all these stairwells belong to people?”

“Yes, lady. Now, kindly, what is your deepest desire?”

“My, that’s very personal.”

“It is so with King Raise. He wishes to enslave you, so a deep desire works well.” He cleared his throat. “Why did I tell you that?”

I grimaced. “I’m glad you did, for now I’ve decided not to tell you.”

“My liege will be unhappy with me.”

“Maybe there are other questions I can answer that won’t enslave me?”

The prince muttered as he scanned the parchment. As he unwound the roll, the length of his questionnaire became more apparent. He went on scanning and scanning.

“Ah,” he announced. “There are two. Firstly, where do you reside?”

“Hotel Vitale,” I answered, then waited as he scribbled it down.

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