The monster finished writing, and a single stair appeared on my platform. So that is how a person built their stairwell out of here. A clever trap, for if I didn’t answer, then I couldn’t escape, and if I did answer, then I would lose freedom in another sense.
The prince asked, “Would you consider your soul to be unchained, free—though not of charge, and otherwise fine and ready to enter into an agreement? Is there, in other words, any prior claim to your soul from another entity that is not yourself?”
“I haven’t thought of such things before. But yes, I consider my soul unchained and free. I certainly hope not to ever sell it and would never do so for free. I don’t consider myself ready to enter into an agreement involving my soul.”
The prince squinted. “Shall I put down ‘yes’ or ‘not applicable’?”
“You could do both for good measure?”
His brow cleared. “A grand idea.” He jotted on the parchment, and another stair appeared on my platform.
I was nowhere near the other stairs, and I’d answered the only two questions that wouldn’t enslave me to King Raise.
The prince scanned the parchment anew and pulled a face. “This preliminary questionnaire really is quite incomplete. You’re sure that you won’t answer enslaving questions? You’ll be trapped here for eternity if you don’t.”
That seemed unfair, and yet I couldn’t die and didn’t need to eat. I was also very capable, and if King Raise only gave me two options, then I would simply create a third. “I’m sure, Prince Sign.”
The prince rolled up the parchment. “Then there’s naught to be done, I gather.” He extended the quill to me. “Sign at the bottom, Lady Patch.”
I didn’t take the quill. “Sign what?”
“This.”
“What is this?”
“A preliminary document exploring eternal servitude to my liege.”
Eternal servitude could prove bothersome to an immortal monster. “I do not seek to be servant to your liege.”
Prince Sign lowered quill and parchment. “Whyever are you here then?”
“I fell through the glass panel in my…” I recalled King See’s advice. “My… hotel. I must’ve landed with force, and when I woke, you were here.”
“You weren’t delivered,” he said after a lull.
“I think not. Though I’m unsure whether my glass panel gave way or if it was pulled.”
Prince Sign appeared as baffled as I felt.
“You aren’t embroiled in disastrous circumstances?” he asked. “Does vengeance burn within you? Unrequited love, perhaps? Financial strife? Do you wish to be with child?”
“None of those things. Should I be?”
“No one has come here without wishing badly for something.” He glanced around, then extended the quill again. “You had better sign.”
I took his quill and tossed it over my shoulder.
“That was my finest quill! Whyever did you do that?”
“I’ve answered the matter of whether I shall sign. You chose not to listen, even though I’m very worthy of being listened to. Consider your finest quill in the future when we converse.”
The prince half-bowed. “I am chastened. My apologies, magnificent lady. I can see you’re very worthy of being listened to, and I’m sorry that I did not better show you this. Now only words can suffice to convince you of such until future opportunities arise to show you.”
I dipped my head. “As apologies go, that is a good one, Prince Sign. You had better take me to King Raise. This is a matter to solve directly.”
The prince threw a scathing look at the unsigned and mostly unanswered questionnaire. “We had better. I’m meant to leave people on the platform until their resolve breaks, but they always sign before then, and they always want something badly. You’d better follow me, lady, for better or worse. This has never happened before, so I cannot say how my liege will react.”
He walked off the platform, but a staircase blurred out of nowhere to prevent his fall. The long flight of stairs connected to my platform and didn’t have balustrades like the others around me.