He’s someone to watch, that prince, with his burning hatred and pale, intense eyes. Perhaps she should have stayed near the castle before, and learned about him sooner, but when the madness takes her fully, she doesn’t know where her feet take her. Only away. But she’s here now, so she resolves to keep a closer eye, and bids one of the children follow the dark prince.
If he does find a way out, she wants to know.
Mordred’s slender fingers curled around the bars, his blue hues landing on the woman who sat curled in on herself. “Mother —” he called, his tone mixed with spite and disgust for the woman who resided in the cell. The word rolled off his tongue, leaving a foul taste in his mouth. He hated her, with every fiber in his being, every part of him. He loathed her. She was the reason he was here, the reason he had spent so much of his time locked away in purgatory.
Morgaine lifted her head, studying him for a moment. “I knew you would come,” she tells him, her voice hoarse and in turn, the boy raises a brow. “You claim you knew a lot of things,” he mutters, letting go of the bar. “This however, is not a social visit,” he tells her, his tone cold as he begins to pace. “Have you found a way out?” To this, Morgaine shakes her head and her son’s face stills, rage filling it. “Gods be damned!” He shouts, “you got us in here – it’s been how long and you haven’t figured out a way out?” He yells, “you’re a high priestess and you can’t even get past a veil?”
The child, spying from a shadowed corner, twitches back further into the darkness at the prince’s raised voice. But it listens hard, paying attention to every word, to the smallest nuances — after all, it’s already seen what will happen if the mistress isn’t pleased.
The children’s nightmares are full of fire.
So it creeps out just a little, listening as hard as ever it can, and waits to follow the dark prince back out to the surface.