Chapter Text
"Halt, thief!"
Rupert pushed his legs faster, clutching the book to his chest underneath his cloak. The guards didn't know it was him yet-- maybe he could get away clean and go back to his room like nothing had happened.
"Hurry, men," one of the knights commanded. "He's in the east corridor."
This wasn't exactly the time to linger on the giddy feeling Rupert got from hearing the word he, but he couldn't help himself. Who would've thought that all he had to do to get gendered correctly in his own castle would be to break into his mother's private vault and steal what was possibly the most highly guarded object in the entire kingdom? Certainly not Rupert.
He was getting closer to the stairway. If he could just make it across one more hallway, he would be there, and he doubted the guards would think to look for him on the upper floors of the castle. He could make it back to his room, and no one would ever have to know it was him.
He heard a few guards not far behind him, so he picked up his pace, booking it across the hallway. He wasn't bothering to stay in the shadows anymore-- speed was more important than anything else.
"Stay where you are, thief! You're surrounded."
Well, shit. Rupert came to a halt. Of course, it was just his luck that he would get caught now, when he was mere seconds from freedom.
"I believe this--" Sir Percy, the knight champion, snatched the book from Rupert's arms-- "belongs to the queen. And as for you, well, we'll let Her Royal Majesty decide your fate."
Rupert was just glad, however temporarily, that the knights didn't make him remove his hood as they walked the corridors to the throne room.
"Forgive the intrusion, Your Majesty," Sir Percy said as the guards opened the doors to let the small group inside, "but this is the fiend we captured trying to steal the Forbidden Book. Kneel before the queen, thief!" He pushed Rupert down onto his knees.
Rupert kept his eyes on the ground as Queen Lavinia addressed him. "Well, villain, you led my knights on quite the chase."
"Take off that cloak and uncover your face."
Rupert hardly had time to brace himself before the commander ripped the hood off his head. As expected, a collective gasp sounded throughout the room.
"Isadora?" the queen asked incredulously.
Rupert grit his teeth at the sound of the name, but looked up to face her nonetheless. "Hi, Mom."
"Oh, you are in big trouble this time, missy." The queen dragged Rupert behind her through the castle's halls, towards his room.
"Ow! Mom, easy on the ear-- you're gonna pull it off!"
"You'll be lucky to have any ears when I'm through with you." They had reached Rupert's doors now. "How dare you embarrass me like that!"
"I'm sorry, okay?" He stood up straight to catch his breath once his mother let him go, and he followed her into the room. "I know the Forbidden Book is, well, forbidden, but I have a thousand questions about the forest and no one will talk to me about it. And that book has answers."
"Maybe no one will talk to you about the forest because there's nothing worth talking about."
"Of course there is," he said. "It's taking over our kingdom!"
"That's a lie."
Rupert gave his mother his best I'm-having-none-of-your-bullshit face. "Mom."
"The forest is not taking over our kingdom," she said, sounding like she wasn't fully convinced of that herself.
"There are trees and vines literally everywhere. You can't cross the street without tripping over them." He started counting on his fingers. "The crops are failing in our fields, and all the animals we hunt for food have been driven from the land. Our kingdom is being squeezed to death, and no one is doing anything!"
The queen put a hand to her head, rubbing her temples. "Can we please drop this distasteful subject?"
"From what I've been able to piece together from gossip and legend," Rupert continued, ignoring her, "all our troubles began a thousand years ago, when the two kings challenged each other in the hollow. That's where the curse began. Maybe, if we go there--"
"No one is setting foot in that Hollow!" his mother snapped, cutting him off.
He stared at her for a second, trying to gauge where that reaction had come from. "Uh. . . okay."
She took a breath, resuming her usual calm demeanor. "Besides, even if there was a problem with the forest-- which there isn't-- it's hardly your responsibility. You're a child." She reached a hand out towards Rupert's cheek.
He bat her arm away. "Stop that."
"Stop what?"
"Dismissing me!"
"Isadora," she scolded. "You're such an ungrateful chi--"
"Ungrateful?" Rupert could hardly believe what he was hearing.
"Yes, ungrateful. We have a wonderful life. We live in a gorgeous castle, we throw marvelous parties, and up until recently, the people have been moderately fond of us." She stood up straighter, smoothing out a wrinkle in her gown. "Why spoil it all by looking for trouble?"
"Because our kingdom is on the verge of collapse!"
And there she went again with the hand on his face. "Oh, my poor girl. You have so much to learn about how to rule. But lesson number one is really very simple." She tucked a strand of Rupert's hair behind his ear. "Life can be perfect. . . as long as you don't look too close."
Rupert narrowed his eyes and pushed her hand away again, more gently this time. "That sounds criminally incompetent," he told her.
"Well, how about this for a lesson: you're grounded." She was out the door before Rupert could blink.
"Hey!" he called out, but the door was already shut, and he could hear the distinct click of the lock. He pounded his fist on the wood. "Let me out of here. You can't lock me in my room for the rest of my life!"
His mother's voice came sickeningly sweet from the other side. "You're welcome to try to climb out your window and scale down the tower again, but I'll warn you: I've had fresh crocodiles installed in the moat, and I have been much too busy to feed them, so I really wouldn't press your luck." She paused a second before adding "Kisses!" and her footsteps disappeared down the hallway.
Rupert groaned, sliding down to sit on the ground. He was allowed a dramatic moment or two after that conversation.
A bark echoed in the room, and Rupert's eyes locked on the form wiggling its way out from under his bed.
"Hey, Fitzroy," he spoke as the terrier approached him. "Looks like we're grounded. Again." He pursed his lips as he tried not to think about the sheer amount of times he had been locked in his room for other stupid, petty things. Things as simple as what he wore-- putting on pants and a fancy coat instead of a gown. Or the time he asked the Lord Chamberlain to call him Rupert instead of Isadora.
Chamberlain was always respectful about it, at the very least, but that had given Rupert false hope that he could tell his mother and the rest of the kingdom the same thing. But the queen was not as open-minded as her advisor. Rupert winced at the memory of the exact words she had said to him.
He tried not to dwell on it, though. That was a year ago. The queen wasn't as insufferable about it anymore-- not in that sense, anyway. Now, she preferred to just pretend it had never happened in the first place.
Fitzroy barked again, pulling him out of his thoughts.
Rupert released a breath. "You're right, I can't let her get me down. I'm just so tired of her treating me like a child-- or even worse, treating me like a princess."
His dog barked again, as if he knew exactly what Rupert was saying. The prince reached out to pet him between the ears.
"You know, if my dad were still here, there's no way she'd get away with this. He would take me seriously. He would listen when I tell him we have to do something about the forest!" He dropped his hand back into his lap. "Actually, no, I take that back. If my dad were alive, he would've stopped the forest years ago, before it ever became a problem in the first place. Everything would be different," he mused. "Mom wouldn't be driving me crazy. Our kingdom wouldn't be in danger. And I wouldn't be--"
Fitzroy howled.
"Yeah," Rupert breathed. "Alone."
"Oh, I don't know what to do about the princess!"
"Yes, Your Majesty," the Lord Chamberlain droned, only half listening. The queen had been talking in circles for the last hour already.
"She's always been inquisitive, but these last few months, ever since the forest has grown more aggressive, she's become downright impossible."
"Yes, Your Majesty."
"I honestly don't know how much longer I can keep up this charade. I mean, the princess has eyes. She can see how much trouble we're in. Everyone can! Or if they don't, they will, soon enough." She paced across the floor as she talked, leaving Chamberlain to wonder just how much longer it would be before she wore herself out. "And the second I let on that I've completely lost control of the situation-- the second I stop smiling and start screaming run for your lives, this kingdom is over! It will collapse into chaos and pandemonium, and that will be the end of everything!" She collapsed dramatically onto her chaise, hand over her eyes.
"Yes, Your Majesty."
She sat up abruptly. "Is that all you have to say?! Yes, Your Majesty. Yes, Your Majesty. You're my Lord Chamberlain-- you're supposed to advise me. Well, old man? Advise me!"
Finally, his chance to say the thought that had been on his mind since the queen had first started pacing. "With all due respect, Your Eminence, perhaps it's time the princess was told the truth." He sent a mental apology to the prince for using the wrong title, but he knew it would be better that the queen didn't fire him, so he could stay in the castle and Rupert could have at least one reassuring presence in his life.
"The truth?!" Lavinia all but stormed across the room until she stood face to face with her advisor. "What do you mean, 'the truth'?"
"About the forest, and the prophecy."
Her hand flew forward. "Not. A. Chance."
"My goodness--" he choked out, throat tight in the queen's iron grip.
"I have protected Isadora from the truth for almost eighteen years, and I'll protect her for the next eighteen hundred, if that's what it takes. Is that clear?"
"Painfully, Your. . . Ambidextrousness."
"Good." She released him, the straightened up and smoothed out her hair and gown as if nothing were wrong. She turned to the table beside her and picked up the Forbidden Book. "And while we're on the subject, you can take this book and burn it. Immediately."
"Burning the Forbidden Book won't extinguish the prophecy, nor the princess's curiosity, Your Majesty," he said once he felt he could breathe again. "Just as filling up your child's days with tea parties and ribbon cuttings won't keep her-- or the kingdom-- distracted forever."
She thought on that for a moment, and the expression that grew on her face left Chamberlain with an uneasy feeling.
"No, you're right. I've been far too small-scale in my thinking--" she gasped dramatically and clasped her hands together-- "oh, Chamberlain, you're a genius!"
She ran out of the room, and Chamberlain straightened himself up, tugging at his neckline where it still felt like he was being suffocated.
"Yes, Your Majesty."
Rupert yawned, crawling under his covers. "Goodnight, boy," he said to a barking Fitzroy. "Sleep tight."
As soon as he closed his eyes, a low rumble shook the walls of the room, and a grueling voice echoed in the prince's ears.
Isadora.
Rupert sat bolt upright, the hair on his arms doing the same.
"Hello?" He waited a moment, but no answer came. "Hello? Is someone there?"
Still nothing.
"Fitzroy, did you hear that?" he whispered, but the terrier was silent as well. "Fitzroy?"
Isadora.
"Okay, who's there?!"
Silence again.
He timidly-- though trying to appear brave-- got out of bed and stood. "This isn't funny. If someone's there, you need to show yourself right now!"
Come to me, the voice spoke.
Rupert opened his bedroom door and peered out into the corridor, but there was no one in sight. "Hello?" He hated the way his voice cracked. "Is someone out there? What do you want from me?"
Isadora. Come to me. Come. . . to the forest.
The voice was coming from all around him now. He slammed the door closed when a clap of thunder sounded outside. "Oh boy. . . " Rupert scrambled back into his bed.
The voice didn't come back, but it was another several hours before rest finally found the prince.
"Rise and shine!"
Rupert groaned when his mother threw his bedroom door open. He looked around for a second, trying to figure out his surroundings. "What?"
"Oh, good, dear, you're awake. Do get off the floor-- you're not a dog."
A bark sounded from near Rupert's feet.
"Shoo, Fitzroy, don't be naughty," the queen commanded, "or mommy will have you stuffed."
"I had the weirdest dream last night," Rupert remembered, rubbing his eyes. "There was this voice, and--"
"That's nice, dear, now stop talking. Your mummy has the most wonderful news!" She clasped her hands together, grinning from ear to ear. "I was thinking about what you said, and I realize. . . you're absolutely right. It is time I stop treating you like a child, and allow you to become the great princess I know you're destined to be."
"Wait--" he stood up-- "for real? You actually mean that?"
"I do, sweetie."
"So. . . you're going to let me go to the forest?"
"What?" Lavinia laughed. "No. No, sorry, I should've been more clear. You're not stepping foot in that forest."
Rupert's heart sank, though, in hindsight, he shouldn't have gotten his hopes up. This was his mother, after all.
"No, I was thinking, since you're turning eighteen, wouldn't it be something it I threw you a great, big, once-in-a-lifetime--"
"Party," Rupert finished, unenthused.
"--wedding!"
"What?!"
"I know-- genius!" Lavinia looked like she was trying hard to restrain from jumping for joy at the idea. "People love a royal wedding! They laugh, they cry, they eat too much cake--"
"I know what you're doing," Rupert said quickly. "I'm not getting married just because you want a distraction."
"Well obviously not, silly. You're getting married for love!"
"I'm not in love."
"Oh, sweetie, is that what you're worried about?" Her tone was so ridiculously condescending, it made Rupert's blood boil. "Don't you give it a second thought. Mummy's taken care of everything."
"Wait-- what does that mean?" He was trying his absolute best to keep his voice level and not lash out, but his mother had a way of pushing all of Rupert's buttons.
Before either of them could say anything else, a knock sounded on the door.
Lavinia straightened up like she had been expecting whoever was outside to arrive. "Yes, come in."
"What? No, get out-- I'm in my pajamas!" Rupert hurried to say, but he was ignored. Figures.
"Isadora, hush." She turned to address the visitor. "Lord Chamberlain, have you finished the proclamation?"
"Yes, Your Majesty, would you like to hear it?"
"If you would be so good."
He cleared his throat and began to read aloud from a scroll. "To all the eligible lords of the kingdom: are you tired of being unmarried and unwanted? Do you crave meaning in your otherwise meaningless existence? Then bring your dancing shoes and an itemized dowry to Her Majesty's Royal Ball, where you can win the chance to marry Her Royal Highness, Princess Isadora the first."
"What?" Rupert could hardly believe what he was hearing. Was his mother really advertising him like some kind of grand prize--
"That's right." Lord Chamberlain hardly spared him a second glance before he continued reading. "At the conclusion of tonight's royal ball, the princess will pluck one lucky lord from a life of obscurity and mediocrity by joining with him in Holy Matrimony. Drawbridge opens promptly at 8pm."
Rupert, for once, was at a loss for words. He could only stand there, mouth agape, as Chamberlain rolled the scroll back up and looked to the queen for approval.
When Rupert looked at her too, she was beaming. "Perfection. Send it out immediately."
"Yes, Your Majesty."
That brought Rupert back to his senses. "No, wait, don't go! You can't--" he tried, but the man was already gone. Rupert whipped around to face Lavinia. "Call him back. Mom, call him back right now!"
She waved a hand dismissively. "Don't be silly, dear. The Chamberlain's a very busy man, and between you and me, I do not pay him enough for what I put him through," she admitted.
Rupert's jaw set. His mother had been difficult before, but this was ridiculous, even for her. He never stood up to her in the past-- maybe it was time to start.
"Now, let's figure out what you're going to wear to the ball." Lavinia started rummaging through his closet. "I know this is a rather bold suggestion, but I'm thinking. . . ruffles." She tossed a frilly blue gown towards him, and he nearly drowned in the fabric.
"Mom, enough!" This was too much. He threw the gown to the side, not caring if it got dirty on the floor. "No. I'm sorry, Mom, but no. I don't care what scheme you've concocted, or how much of a distraction you need. I'm not tying the knot with a complete stranger just because you can't face the reality of what's happening to our kingdom!"
Lavinia crossed her arms, brow raised, but didn't say anything as Rupert continued.
"I refuse to be a part of this insanity any longer. Do you understand? This is me, Prince Rupert the first, putting my foot down. I am not getting married, and I will go to the forest and break the curse, and there is nothing you or anyone else can do to stop me!"
The queen was silent for one terrifying second, then her expression softened, and she took a step towards him. "Oh, Isadora," she soothed, completely ignoring what Rupert had just said-- "I know how ridiculous I must seem to you. But you must believe me-- I only want what's best for you."
Rupert was finding that very hard to believe, actually. But in the moment, his anger was gone. He had said what he needed to say, and everything that had been building up was out in the open. He didn't feel the need to carry on an argument, especially with his mother, so he let himself relax a bit as he let out a breath.
"I know, Mom."
She placed a hand on his shoulder. "There's nothing I wouldn't do to protect you. Nothing. You have to believe that."
I believe that you believe it, he wanted to say, but again, he decided against the argument. Instead, he chose to take the easy way out and play along. "I do," he said. "Of course I do."
"Good." Her smile turned forced. "I knew you'd understand. Guards!" she called, her grip turning iron on his shoulder.
"Wait, what? What-- what are you doing?"
The two guards who were stationed outside appeared in the doorway.
"Escort Princess Isadora to the royal ballroom and tie her to her throne," the queen ordered.
"What?" he exclaimed for what felt like the thousandth time that morning.
"Come this way, Your Highness," one guard said, taking Rupert by the bicep as Lavinia handed him over.
"Whoa, hey! Hey, hey, hey, get your hands off of me."
"I'll see you at the ball, sweetie," his mother said with a smile and wave as he and the guards started down the corridor. They turned a corner, and Rupert couldn't see her anymore, but the smug look on her face was seared into his mind, leaving him feeling something between dread and rage.
Rupert zoned out to the sound of lively orchestra music, ignoring the bodies that milled around the ballroom.
"The Lord Darius."
Still not mentally present, Rupert nodded politely at whoever was being introduced.
"The Lord Quinn."
To Rupert, the guests were faceless. Everyone who showed up was here for the same thing-- they all just wanted a chance to marry the princess.
"The Lord William."
Rupert just had to keep his eyes open while Chamberlain read off the guest list.
His mother leaned over the side of her throne to whisper, "Do try to smile, dear. No boy wants a sourpuss for a wife."
"Maybe I'd feel like smiling if these ropes weren't cutting off my circulation," he replied through clenched teeth.
"The Lord Benjamin." The Lord Chamberlain's voice brought Rupert's attention back to the guests.
"Your Highness, it is so great to finally meet you." The boy in front of him beamed, rocking his weight back and forth. "I've been waiting for a moment like this for, like, ever."
One look from his mother warned him to be hospitable. "The pleasure is all mine," he forced.
"Can I just say, you look stunning! I never would have thought to show up to a ball in pajamas and-- uh, bondage-- but you make it work."
Lavinia cleared her throat. "Lord Benjamin, why don't you tell the princess about that extremely interesting book you were reading the other day?"
"Book?" He looked at her. "What book?"
"The book, dear. The one we discussed."
Rupert refrained from rolling his eyes. The queen was known for her poorly-executed meddling, and honestly, Rupert should have guessed she would try something tonight.
"Oh, right! That book." Benjamin straightened himself up and faced the prince again. "Yeah, the other day, I was actually reading this amazing book all about wagons--"
"Dragons," Lavinia corrected.
"Dragons. I am so obsessed with dragons. I love reading about them, and talking about them, and just sharing my life with a certain princess who also has a fondness for terrifying, fire-breathing monsters."
"Well, do you hear that, Isadora? Lord Benjamin likes books and dragons-- two of your favorite things! I mean, what are the odds?"
Rupert completely tuned out his mother, instead addressing Benjamin. He would rather end this quickly. "What was the name of the book?"
"Oh, Isadora, don't badger the poor--"
"That's the interesting thing," Benjamin said matter-of-factly, rocking up onto his toes and back down. "It didn't have a title."
"Oh?" He feigned interest.
"Yup. Some books are just like that. Though, my sister knows more about that than I do."
"Wow," he said, trying hard not to laugh. It wasn't poor Benjamin's fault that Lavinia had roped him into this.
Speak of the devil, she clearly caught on to the fact that her scheme had failed. "Alright, Lord Benjamin, thanks for stopping by. Do feel free to enjoy the rest of the party." She motioned with her arm to guide him away.
Once the prince and queen were alone, Rupert leaned towards her. "You didn't really think that was going to work, did you?" he hissed.
"Honestly, I thought the odds were fifty-fifty." She huffed out a breath. "Now, if you'll excuse me. Lord Alfred just arrived-- I need to go say something devastating about his outfit. Don't fall in love without me!"
Rupert watched as his mother disappeared into the crowd, then threw his head back against his throne, groaning loudly. "This night is never going to end."
"Unfortunately not, Your Highness." A voice from his left caused Rupert to jump.
"Oh-- sorry, Lord Chamberlain, I didn't realize you were still here."
"It's quite alright," the old man said with a small chuckle. "I often forget I'm here myself."
"Yeah. . . " Rupert breathed, more to fill the silence than anything else.
"You know," Chamberlain said when another second of silence had passed, "I was in a similar situation when I was your age."
"Oh. Really?" Rupert couldn't help it if his voice had a bit more bite than usual. "Your mother tied you to a throne in your pajamas, then paraded you in front of every boy in the kingdom like a prized pig at a county fair?"
"No. I meant that I, too, was once expected to marry. And it brought. . . great shame on my family when I refused."
"Okay, look, you don't need to lay on the guilt about me doing my royal duty-- Mom's got that covered."
"On the contrary, Your Highness: while the decision not to marry was indeed difficult, I have always stood by my choice, despite what it may have cost me over the years," he admitted.
That gave Rupert pause. "Really?" he asked, sincerely this time.
"Really, Your Highness."
"So, you never fell in love with anyone?"
The Lord Chamberlain let out a chuckle at that. "Oh goodness, yes. I fell in love many times."
The prince frowned. "Then why didn't you get married?"
"Because the kingdom was not quite ready for such a marriage."
"I don't understand."
The old man gave Rupert a knowing look, lowering his voice just a bit. "I think Your Royal Highness does."
Rupert absolutely did know what he meant by that, but for his own sake, he pretended not to. "Uh-- no, actually. I don't." He stammered a bit, searching for words. "I mean, I don't want to get married because I'm seventeen. I mean, whatever you choose to do in your personal life is up to you-- I'm not-- I'm not judging, but I'm not-- I mean--" He trailed off, at a loss. Technically, yes, he was gay, but he was also trans, so to the general public, anyone would look at him-- the princess-- in a relationship with a man and think it was a totally normal, cis-het relationship. "You shouldn't assume," he managed to say, though it sounded more like a question than anything else.
"No," Chamberlain agreed. "Forgive me if I misspoke. I only wanted to say: you're not the only outcast here. Just know that, whatever decisions you make about your future. . . I'll stand behind you, my prince."
Something fluttered in Rupert's chest at the title. It was the first time anyone had ever called him that. It was so foreign, but it felt so right at the same time. Rupert couldn't speak for a solid few seconds, but when he finally came back to reality, the old man was gone, somewhere in the crowd.
The evening continued on, overwhelmingly uneventful. Rupert sat, not-so-patiently waiting for the party to just be over already-- he rued himself for thinking that his mother might have been joking about having him tied up all night. He was stiff. He was hungry (he refused to let his mother feed him like a toddler). He needed to pee. But the party only seemed to be reaching the halfway mark, and Rupert had no idea how much longer it would be before he could just go back to his room and hide under the covers on his bed, pretending none of this had really happened.
Around two or three in the morning, as Rupert was fighting to keep his eyelids from closing and his head from drooping forward, the castle shook.
The prince jolted awake. The rest of the room collectively paused, staring up at the ceiling as half a dozen chandeliers swayed above their heads.
"Was that an earthquake?" someone asked from the crowd. In response, the room shook again, more violently this time. If Rupert had to guess, he would say it was more than just an earthquake-- this felt like magic.
As soon as the thought crossed Rupert's mind, a window shattered on his right, and a swarm of vines entered the ballroom.
"The forest is invading. Everyone, take cover!" Sir Percy shouted, drawing his sword as his knights assembled around him. He said something else, but it was lost in the sound of all the other doors and windows bursting open to make way for more vines and branches.
The guests scattered. Some of the braver (or maybe just the more arrogant) ones took up arms and tried to help the knights. Others took their first chance to run when an opening appeared in the doorway. Rupert would have joined them, honestly, if it weren't for the fact that he was still tied to his throne.
His eyes darted around, searching for someone-- anyone, really-- who might be able to help him. But no one was in earshot, and even if they were, there were vines coming up through the ground now, effectively cutting Rupert off from the rest of the ballroom.
He didn't know what else to do, so he just shouted for help. No one seemed to hear him, so he called out again, more desperate this time as the vines drew closer to him with each second.
The ropes around his torso fell limp a second later, and Rupert whipped his head around to see the figure emerging from behind his throne.
"Chamberlain!" He had never been so relieved to see the old man. "Thank you."
Chamberlain moved to the ropes around the prince's wrists, untying them as quickly as he could. "Of course. Now, here, take this."
Rupert wasn't thinking clearly enough to question anything. He took the object with his newly freed hand while his other wrist was being untied. Once his brain caught up to him, he looked at what he was holding. A scroll. "What is this?"
"A map. It will lead you straight to the Hollow, but you must leave immediately." The ropes around Rupert's ankles were gone now, too. "Here, take my sword."
"No!" Rupert very pointedly moved his hands away from where Chamberlain was trying to hand him the weapon. "I can't just leave you all in the middle of a battle."
"You must," Chamberlain told him. "The real battle-- the battle that will decide the fate of everyone in this kingdom-- can only be fought in the Hollow, and only you can fight it."
Okay, Rupert knew he wasn't exactly thinking clearly at the moment, but even so, the royal advisor was making absolutely no sense. "What do you mean?"
Chamberlain looked at Rupert seriously. "There is a prophecy your mother has kept hidden from you," he told him. "If you want to break the curse, you must get to the Hollow. And once you are there, you must--"
His words were cut off when a chandelier fell from the ceiling. He saw it coming just in time to shove Rupert out of the way.
"Chamberlain!" Rupert called out. The old man was half buried under debris, and Rupert was at his side in half a second. "Chamberlain, are you alright? Can you hear me?"
He groaned-- at least it was a sign that he was alive and conscious. "Go," he croaked out, "to the Hollow."
That felt an awful lot like a goodbye, Rupert thought, but he wasn't going to stay and keep arguing. If Chamberlain knew what he was talking about (and he usually did, in Rupert's experience), his best shot at breaking the curse and saving his kingdom was to go. He nodded once to the advisor, then picked up the sword and the map from where they had fallen on the ground, and he ran.
There was a hole in the castle wall where he was able to slip out without any trouble. From there, he made his way to the stables, his heart thudding against his ribs all the while. He didn't bother to stop for anything-- if the forest had finally grown bold enough to actually attack the castle, Rupert knew he couldn't waste any time in breaking the curse.
The second he mounted his horse, he was gone. No looking back. No hesitation. He was going to the forest.
He was going to break the curse.