30. Mia

The dungeon is locatedinside a nondescript stone building in the middle of nowhere, and by the time we get there I'm seriously irritated by the standard female attire here. A full-length robe and dainty slippers aren't practical for traipsing around the countryside.

Once all this nasty Bayliss business is resolved, I'm talking to Renowlf about getting some pants and boots for every day wear.

Two huge orcs guard the entrance to the building, their postures menacing. Dolphus approaches them and says, "The king's consort wishes to speak with the prisoner Dorlok."

The bigger guard steps forward. "Who authorizes this visit? Protocol states that a prisoner's first visitor must be King Renowlf himself, and he has not yet made an appearance."

"The king is unavailable at this time and has given me, his second, decision-making power on his behalf."

"This is highly irregular, Dolphus," the other guard says. "We have received no communications from the king granting you this power."

Dolphus' hand goes to the hilt of his sword. "What is highly irregular is your reluctance to honor the wishes of your future queen."

The two guards exchange looks. Then, after several tense seconds, they step aside to let us pass. Inside, the building looks like a small house with multiple rooms. The decor is sparse, the furniture utilitarian.

Dolphus guides me to a long, steep staircase leading below ground. I guess the actual dungeon is in the basement. How medieval.

Another guard waits in front of a door at the bottom of the stairs. Dolphus nods to him and he steps aside with a grunt.

My feet are nearly silent on the rough stone floor as I follow Renowlf"s second into the cold, windowless cavern filled with a handful of prison-like cells. It takes a minute for my eyes to adjust to the dim light. When they do, I see that only one cell is occupied.

Dorlok is sleeping on a cot in the corner of the small cell, his loud snoring bouncing off the walls which are also made of stone. The smell coming from the space is not a good one. Stale mead mixes with the damp underground air and the aroma of unwashed orc. My stomach heaves.

Dolphus unsheathes his sword and slams it against the bars of the cell. When Dorlok barely stirs, he does it again while bellowing, "Wake up, you lazy drunk!"

Dorlok startles awake, blinking hard, then squints at us. "Is it time to leave?" he asks, looking around with bloodshot eyes. I shudder when he wipes his snotty nose with the back of his hand.

"After what you did, you may die here," Dolphus growls.

At that, Dorkus scrambles off the cot and comes toward us, gripping the bars of the cell with both hands to steady himself. "It was the mead, I swear! I did not mean the king's intended any harm."

Instinctively, I take a few steps back. That"s when Dorlok"s eyes finally land on me, widening in surprise. I take a deep breath and square my shoulders. This is no time for nerves or second-guessing. I"m here to get information.

My voice finds its footing, echoing slightly in the stone chamber. "Dorlok, I seek your help on behalf of the king."

Dorlok leans back as if my response was a physical blow. He snorts, his disbelief hanging thick between us. But then, something flickers behind his bloodshot eyes—a spark of curiosity. "How can I be of help to you? You know nothing of our ways, our struggles."

"You"re right," I concede, locking eyes with him. "But I"m willing to watch and learn while standing beside Renowlf as he rules."

He blinks at me then, his sneer softening just a fraction as he considers my words. There"s a shift in the air, subtle but palpable. His reaction feels like a small victory, so I press on. "I didn"t choose to leave my own planet, but now that I"m here, I pledge my loyalty to the king."

"I wish to believe you, consort. Only time will tell if your pledge is sincere."

"That"s why I"m here, Dorlok. Bayliss has betrayed King Renowlf. With help from an unknown number of others, she plans to defy the king"s wishes by killing his intended queen."

Dorlok stares at me, confused, his posture less confrontational. I can tell by the look on his face when he finally grasps what I"m saying. "Y-yo-you are the king"s intended! You should be in the palace where you can be protected!"

I step closer to the cell bars. "No place is safe for me until Bayliss and her accomplices are caught. Even now, Renowlf is searching for her, putting his own life in danger. That"s why I need your help, Dorlok. Do you have any idea who would betray the king—your king— in favor of Bayliss?"

"This is a waste of time," Dolphus interjects angrily. His glare could melt steel, his lips curling in distaste. "Dorlok is a drunk who would sell his own mother for a tankard of mead. No one would trust him with details of treason against the crown."

My arms cross over my chest, the fabric of my robe stretching tight. "Maybe so, but even a drunk overhears things. Isn"t that right, Dorlok?"

"I hear plenty," Dorlok grumbles.

Dolphus dismisses him. "We should spend our time seeking out reliable sources."

I fix my gaze on Dorlok. "Reliable sources might not want to get involved, fearing the king"s wrath if they"re wrong," I argue. "A man seeking to regain the king"s favor might be willing to speak more freely. Especially if a certain female offers to put in a good word for him."