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Chapter 3

"Is there a reason I have to come along on this little journey?" Prince Warren asked, staring out of the carriage window, watching dawn break over the trees. They had just passed through the tree line separating his grounds from the rest of the kingdom.



"You are the prince," Erik, his advisor replied. "You will be the king in a few months time, so you need to get used to speaking with other rulers."



Warren rolled his eyes, yawning, "Well, why isn't Jean coming with us? Surely she would be of some assistance if something came up."



"Jean is off playing with that toy of hers. Besides, she has to stay here for the spell to stay in effect."



The prince watched as Erik made a couple metal spheres orbit above his hand, "It would have been much faster if we had flown to the next kingdom."



"Yes, but arriving in wind torn clothing is not appropriate for royalty."



"Is there a reason we are going to another kingdom instead of them coming to us?"



Erik sighed, "Yes, you are going to make some appearances in certain towns. The people do need to see their ruler every once and a while, Warren."



"That is what parades are for, Erik." The older man frowned. "The commoners do not need to see me; they merely need to do as I say."



"Unfortunately for you, my dear boy, it does not work that way. Jean's spell can only do so much. She can only make them think all is well. It is up to you to make them believe it." He stopped the spheres' movement with a thought. "A couple lies and a smile is all it takes."



"I suppose."



"You will do fine."



"I know I will." Prince Warren stretched his wings as best he could within the small space inside the carriage. "How far is the first stop?"



"The first village is fifteen miles from here. We will reach the edge of the kingdom by nightfall."



The Prince sighed, returning his gaze to sky.



*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*



"Kid, ya ain't goin' ta pick that lock," Logan said, watching the young thief. He had been trying to pick the lock since he had woken up that morning.



"Remy ain't a kid," Remy replied, still working at the lock. "Monsieur jus' be old."



"Watch who yer callin' old, kid."



"Remy jus' sayin'," He shrugged, snickering, "not `is fault you could be `is grand-père."



"Not my fault yer just a kid," Logan said turning to look out the window. "An' I ain't that old."



"Not sure I believe you, mon ami."



"Thought you learned yer lesson about talkin' back after Summers, threw you in here."



"Remy ain't gonna be in `ere long."



Logan shook his head, "Like I said before, ya ain't goin' ta pick that lock."



Remy opened his mouth to comment, when a soft voice echoed down the hall, calling for Scott. He stood, peeking through the small barred window on the door in time to catch a glimpse of red hair go by.



"Who was dat?"



"Trouble."



"Wha' you mean by dat, Logan?"



"Means Summers is goin' ta be in a pissy mood when he wakes up tomorrow, after that spell o' hers wears off."



Remy stared out through the window, scratching his chin, "An' where de other guards hidin' while she `ere?"



"No where in this place, that's fer sure," Logan replied, turning his attention back on the thief.



A flirty giggle echoed down the hall and Remy watched as the red head quickly led a dazed looking Scott past the cell. Remy almost felt bad for the guy.



"Dey stay inside de prison?"



"How the hell am I supposed ta know? What's with all the questions?"



"Jus' let Remy know when dey outta range an' stand back." Remy pressed his hands flat against the door and before Logan could ask what he was doing, a bright pink glow surrounded the door. A high, mosquito-like buzzing reached Logan's ears.



Ignoring it, he listened out for Scott and Jean. Soon he couldn't hear or smell them.



"They're gone, now what…" Remy didn't give him a chance to finish his question, launching himself away from the door and pushing Logan out of the way just as the door exploded.



"What the hell was that?!" Logan shouted, staring at what was left of the door.



Remy shrugged, a sly grin forming on his lips as he dusted off his trench coat, "Good time to escape, non?"



A/N: Continue?





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