Page 7 of The Lost Prince
Were mud boys stupid, or just incredibly stubborn and slow to learn?
At the top of the staircase, the hallway widened and a large wooden door greeted us, with small bars over the middle slot. I tried to tell myself it didnotlook like a prison door.
Vession had us gather around him, and we waited with a nervous, silent tension as the mud boys filtered in behind us, the fireguards bringing up the rear. One boy was hiccupping hysterically, trying to muffle his sobs that likely had something to do with the wicked burns covering his face and upper arms.
I turned back around to face Vession, not wanting to be chastised for inattention.
“Inside these doors are your bunks. Once inside, I will not be there. Fireguards will remain out here at all hours, on rotating shifts. Everything that happens beyond is your domain. Do what you will with it; just be up and ready to leave for breakfast at sunrise.”
Another chorus of ‘yes sirs’ erupted, but more enthusiastic than the first one. Even a majority of the mud boys chimed in, likely thinking that they’d be free once the Fireguards and Vession were gone.
My mood only soured. Without the adults, who would ensure order? What would stop the mud boys from running ruck shod over us, or resorting to physical violence to get their way?
“In.”
Well, we were about to find out.
Vession ushered all of us inside, but stayed out beyond the door. I followed the blonde boy in front of me, passing through the door and entering a very long, narrow room that only went five more paces in front of me before ending with a stone wall. To my left and right, however, the room stretched on for quite a way, with one window at the end of each side. Rows and rows of bunk beds stretched in either direction, taking up both sides of either wall. Wooden frames stacked on top of each other from the floor to the ceiling, with suspended canvas fabric in between that made up the ‘bed.’
Boys pushed around me as I stood there, confused. It was nothing like the bed in my mother’s apartments, with its feather-stuffed mattress and silk sheets. And it was so …tightin here. How were we all supposed to fit?
As more and more boys spilled in through the door, panic gripped my throat with its sharp fingers and squeezed. I pushed and shoved my way down the left side, running toward the window and putting my hands on the cool glass. Golden-pink light leaked in, cutting through the stifling claustrophobia. I eyed the top hammock closet to the window and climbed up to it, setting myself above the chaos.
Up here, it didn’t feel as closed off. My pulse settled as the boys peeled off below me. The mud boys stuck together in small groups, choosing bunks together with an odd excitement. The other noble boys took note and huddled close as well, trying to stay separate from the mud boys.
It seemed odd to smash us all together like this if we were expected to have separate paths in society. What was the point?
“Sissy boy. I want that spot.”
I frowned, my attention pulled down to the ground, where a large mud boy with dried blood on his face pointed aggressively at me.
He looked ridiculous with his swelled, crooked nose, trying to stand tall and bully me into doing what he wanted. I couldn’t help but laugh in his face.
I sobered quickly as he scaled the beds quicker than the dragon that skittered over our kingdom’s dome, put his hands on me, and physically threw me out of the hammock and to the floor below.
Too shocked to realize what was happening before it was too late, I tumbled over the edge and hit the ground hard, landing flat on my back. Pain exploded from my tailbone and radiated down my arms and legs as boys scattered, trying to avoid my flailing limbs. All the air went out of my lungs the moment I hit the ground, and it took me a moment before I could suck in another breath.
Shakily, I stood. The other boys had all gone quiet and were watching with wide eyes.
“You can’t do that. You’re a mud. He’s a noble.” The small mud boy who’d first taken the roll at dinner stood warily next to me, his gaze focused on the larger boy who’d taken my bed.
“Shuddup, M. No one asked you. And it doesn’t matter what kind of fancy clothes he has on. He looks like you—just another runt in my way.”
A few of the noble boys inched closer towards me, but no one stuck up for me.
Just perfect. I wasn’t poor and thin enough to be accepted as one of the mud boys—not that I’d want to be—but my dark hair and unknown origins meant the noble boys were unwilling to claim me either.
I had no one to rely on but myself.
My back straightened as I ignored the sharp pain lancing through it. I tilted my chin up and glared. The boy was bigger than me, but he was also starved and nothing but bones, despite his size. I bet I weighed more. I bet I could take him.
The little boy—M—backed away with a squeak as I climbed the row of bunks next to mine. The boy up top laughed and got on his knees, grinning with anticipation.
I’d show him. I’d show all of them.
Flipping myself onto the top bunk beside the bully, I lunged at him blindly. Below us, the boys jeered and laughed, happy to have free entertainment.
They’d be begging to be on my good side by the time I was done! They’d grovel, they’d—
