Page 130 of The Last Syphon

Yes. She was well aware of his reputation. Now that Inara thought about it, though, that reputation she’d heard circling in the Borderlands sounded nothing like him. Yes, he was terrifying when the occasion called for it, but she’d never seen him be outright cruel or vindictive to anyone.

Prince Walder shifted his weight from one foot to the other, looking slightly uncomfortable. “Please, rise. I do not wish to take your items.”

“Oh, my Prince, does our work displease you?” Prinx joined her husband on her knees, hands clasped in a prayer in front of her chest, bowing over and over again like Branko. “Please do not take our stall away. We have worked so very hard⁠—”

“That’s not what he meant,” Inara cut in. Then, just to make sure, she whispered out of the side of her mouth, “Was it?”

“No,” he hissed back. “No,” he said, louder for the couple to hear. “Please, I—just—cease⁠—”

Prinx and Branko began to cry uncontrollably.

Panicked eyes shot to her. If it weren’t for the clear distress the couple were in, Inara would have found the entire situation laughable. She’d never seen Prince Walder so…human.

She held up her palm again.

There was no hesitation this time. He reached for the coin pouch attached to his belt and pulled out seven silver coins.

Inara pursed her lips at them. “I think a little more is in order, for all the distress you caused them. Don’t you agree?”

He didn’t argue, dropping one gold coin among the rest.

She nodded, spun back around, and said, “Here you go.”

Red-rimmed eyes peered up at her from the ground.

“We both love the weapons and would happily like to purchase the scythe, please.” Her gaze snagged on some clothes sitting on the back bench. “And those,” she said, pointing to them.

Branko sniffled, wiping his nose with the back of his hand. “My spare clothing?”

“Yep.” She nodded.

“What could you possibly need that for?” The judgement in Prince Walder’s voice made her chuckle. Oh. This is going to be hilarious.

For her anyway.

“They’re not for me.”

Prince Walder’s eyes snapped from her to the clothes, then back to her. “No.”

Her smile grew so wide it hurt. “Yes.”

Prince Walder pulled uncomfortably at the collar of his tunic, face scrunched up in unbearable agony. Inara covered her mouth to hide her laughter.

He looked…ridiculous.

Gone was the shiny red-scaled armour and all the prestige that came with it, and in its place was just a man, like any other, strolling the streets of the lower city. His armour was wrapped up in a brown pouch, securely tucked under his arm. The prince still wore a belt with his swords fastened safely in their sheaths around his waist, but now he just looked like any other citizen.

It made it all the more hilarious because Branko was considerably shorter than the prince, making the hem of the pants he was now wearing stop well above his ankles, far too short for him. Same went for the shirt, the slightest movement causing the fabric to rise and reveal his lower stomach, which, Inara was not all that surprised to see was encased in pure muscle.

It was a lot easier to navigate the market, and now that his identity was somewhat concealed, he relaxed, actually able to enjoy himself.

They moved from stall to stall, inspecting various items. Numerous times, she’d glimpsed a smile upon his face, and although she hadn’t known him for very long, Inara got the impression this was the first time in his life he’d been able to drop the prince mask and just be Walder. No title. No duty.

Just Walder.

They talked about many things as they moved throughout the market, and she came to find that he was actually rather interesting when you stripped away all the bullshit. Like her, he had a desire to travel the realm. Being the sole heir to the Crown limited his freedom considerably. There was, of course, Princess Phaedra, and he didn’t explicitly say it, but there was no way she would be able to take his place if something were to happen to him.

As a Powerless, it would be far too risky.