Due to time constraints with promotion, and life, I will only have the first 8 chapters up on Wattpad. If you want to read the entire book it's on getinkspired aka inkspired. Besides, we know you're going to read the first 9 chapters on Wattpad Anyway. 

Janky Fluffy

~ ~ ~ ~

Castle: Midnight:

Victor wore his thick Wasteland suit. He smirked at his brother. "Follow me; I have something to show you in the Wastelands."

"Are you planning to kill me?" Thackeray grabbed his thick jacket and helmet and stepped across the marble floor.

"No," Victor said without emotion. His eyes mimicked a blank canvas.

Both princes entered a crystal elevator, and in less than a minute they were at the underground entrance to the Wastelands, but not further down, to the kingdoms below the surface.

Thackeray attempted to wake Wendy and warn her. He wondered if she'd ever transformed back from the dome and back into a person. The sounds of her sleep echoed as if they were distant music; his brother's magic had worked, and she'd slept throughout the night.

Hundreds of the hidden passageways existed for half-frozen travelers, but most were unused, except for unreliable supply trucks.

Thackeray passed through the underground graveyard for the departed protective domes.

Sharp headstones marked each one and spiraled upward. Workers dug a fresh grave and carved the name Wendy Kingston into the granite.

"Is this what you wanted to show me? Why are they digging my daughter's grave? I already found Blackstone's tombstone; what have you done?" Thackeray asked.

Victor glared and pressed his laser dagger to his brother's forehead. "Your daughter will become a monster, and I'm sorry. When she falls, evil rises."

Tears fell from Thackeray's eyes as his hair singed. "I don't care what that stupid prophecy book says!"

"That creature is no longer your daughter..." Victor clutched his glowing dagger and pulled away. "The reason we're here is I tracked who took Blackstone, and I promise it wasn't me." He forced his brother to come with him.

"Whatever," Thackeray said bluntly.

Both men bribed the guards at the exit to the Wastelands. Dozens of tunnels existed for centuries.

The prince's helmets mimicked those of Earth's astronauts, and their jackets kept them warm, but only for a moment.

Snow fell over them.

A glowing sign flashed, Windchill is not factored in. -68 °F (ca. -56 °C)

The ice walkway froze in such a way that it didn't melt when stepped upon by their thick leather boots, and the princes walked on it like any other asphalt-covered road.

The broken land stretched into the horizon. Icy rocks, covered with algae patches and alien-like blue bioluminescent mushrooms, were the only plants that survived.

Skeletons of sirens and massive fish glistened in the moonlight underneath the frozen lake.

The princes walked further.

Rats with three tails ran across Victor's boot, but he didn't scream.

Four-pound adult dragons flew from the sky, their purple and green claws dug into the rats, and they dragged the screeching vermin into the mouth of a fire cave. Tufts of smoke billowed outward.

Red, green, and even gold dragons flew past them in search of more food.

"I'm looking for rats, too." Victor followed Alva's men one by one with a knife in his left hand, but half of the men froze to death before he reached them. He giggled to himself. "I told them that the one who survived the longest could be named the next prince."

One of Alva's men gasped for air.

Thackeray pressed an emergency button on his pocket watch, carried Alva's last man inside, and handed him to the doctors, who ran the underground medic group for frozen travelers. He fled to the elevator, trying to escape Victor's wrath.

Victor slugged him when he entered behind. "Why did you save a traitor? He helped take Blackstone and framed Alva." Victor shook his brother's arm.

"Do you have proof Alva's men were behind it?" Thackeray broke away from his brother's grip and spoke. "We should've given them a trial and let the judges decide."

"The courts would execute Petunia if we let them decide," Victor said dryly.

Thackeray rolled his eyes and grunted. "No, they wouldn't, but Petunia is lucky she is incompetent at using her weapon, or the bodies would be piling up. I'd toss her into the no-no corner."

"Why not prison?" Victor asked.

His brother laughed. "Like she's in power, and I blame you and Alva for transforming her into a terrible person."

"Alva is on my side, and we need to talk to him," Victor said.

They walked out of the elevator, removed their gear, and entered a gold-painted carriage.

Prince Alva stood in the middle of the town square, near the entrance of the Dragon Tearoom.

The men ascended the outside stairs to eat low breakfast tea. Being a member of the noble class had perks. Even though they were technically broke, the princes could still afford loose-leaf tea and fine cakes before a second breakfast of river crab stew.

The entire tea room was painted in red, gold, and silver floral designs, including the floors, and pots of petunias decorated every table.

Thackeray stared at their designated table; the flowers were dead and wilted. "Most of your military men are dead because Victor thought they kidnapped Blackstone," he said matter-of-factly.

Victor fake punched Prince Alva's arm. "Did you find him?"

"He's dead." Alva tossed Blackstone's clothes to the floor and a box of ash. "I feel terrible for all his fangirls." He set his Magical Chewie Stick on the table and shoved a scone into his mouth.

Tears fell from Thackeray's eyes. His entire body trembled.

"Be a man. He's my son, and you don't see me blubbering." Victor remained stone-faced and stared into his cloudy tea. He broke his scone open and spread raspberry jam, clotted cream, and cream cheese. He finished his treat in silence.

Prince Alva lit his Magical Chewie Stick, and his face glowed. "It's not like I wanted my troop members to frame me. They work for—" Alva paused and sucked evil magic again, still addicted to it, and the high was the last thing the man felt before the explosion.

Groups of surrounding royalty sat in stunned silence.

"Call an ambulance!" Thackeray poured a jug of water on him and fumbled for his cell phone to contact the emergency responders. "Get to The Dragon Tea Room now; there has been an accident with a vape."

The police and the medics arrived, but it was far too late; Prince Alva transformed into a pile of ash in under a minute, and a putrid smell lifted through the room, the gold and red rug ruined.

Prince Thackeray didn't stay behind, but he checked his copy of the oracle book, just to make sure Alva was really dead. He stuffed the tome into his pocket and prayed for Prince Alva, but Thackeray couldn't save the fallen chosen one from the magical destiny that he created because he refused redemption. His death appeared in every oracle book, and Tribeca's name officially replaced him, just as her name replaced Griffin's and Petunia's. There was now only Wendy left, but the book still predicted her fall, but the others fell; why was only his daughter being punished?

Thackeray stayed outside for Wendy and watched his brother enter the castle.

His daughter awoke weeping and flooded the streets instead of her light, happy rain to feed the crops when news about Blackstone's supposed death had reached her.

Thackeray ran to comfort her, and he came back an hour later, drenched.

"We need to leave and pick up your wife," Victor said.

Thackeray dried himself off and entered the Kingdom of Lower Labradorite by their second crystal elevator. The other underground kingdoms were blocked off, and it took hours to reach the lowest level.

All kinds of shape-shifters, wolves, bunnies, gelatinous, and cats lived underground.

Lower Labradorite citizens gathered moss and mushrooms. Others chipped crystals from the walls.

The orbs and domes were of various sizes, but only a select gelatinous shifter grew to Wendy's size. But even Wendy once possessed a full and solid humanoid form, and that form was now intertwined with the dome she became.

Victor and Thackeray weaved around the open markets. Vendors and their families stood behind bins. They sold meat, cheese, and rare spices.

The princes walked past glowing ivy and hanging crystal lanterns, past the residential area of simple, one-colored tents.

Thackeray plodded slowly into the gated neighborhood belonging to the royal elders, or rather, their prime minister and governors.

Royal tents were ten times the size. Each tent was decorated with glass beads, and Labradorite stones reflected the hanging lights within the cavern.

A gelatinous Lower Labradorite female bounced forward from her tent. Wendy's mother shifted into a regular, solid woman, like the others of Wendy's race. Her red hair fell over her green skin. "Darling, visiting the royal elders was awful as usual, and they want to help Petunia."

"They weren't supposed to help her." Thackeray trembled.

Ronda spoke. "We have a deal. Cora will be named queen consort because Izz is no longer in line due to another of her scandals. Her ex is going to be named the new king of the underground." She kissed her husband. "Her involvement with Griffin clouded her judgment."

"Griffin was loyal to me, and I don't like this deal. My daughter isn't a bargaining chip, but your children are," Victor said sharply to Rhonda.

"And I don't care if you think I'm lesser! I'm ready to rip your face off if you helped Alva kill my son. His troops couldn't think without that stupid man."

Victor hissed like a snake before speaking. "Alva wasn't stupid! You're unstable, like your precious Wendy. Izz won't replace her, so it needs to be you." He shoved her.

"Our daughter isn't unstable; she's in mourning." Ronda lost her humanoid form and entered her husband's necklace.

Thackeray spoke softly, his voice broken in parts. "Victor, I need to take Ronda to our room at the castle. We need to mourn in private because you and Petunia won't let us mourn for our son in public."

"Don't ever call Blackstone your son. It's bad enough when Ronda does it. Why did she want him?" Victor asked. "He can't even shift."

"Force us to lie. I don't care." Thackeray stormed off.

~ ~ ~ ~

The Prison: Clinic:

"He needs to be fed intravenously for a couple of days more, and I can give you a list of medications that the military doc and I used."

"You prep the room, and I'll find a clean IV," Edgar said.

Florence located the room. She swapped the supply closet sign with one of the special clinic rooms.

It was the only other clinic room without a glass door for observations. The clinic room was meant for injured officers to check for minor injuries, but it had been transformed into a makeshift ICU.

Its cement walls stunk with a sweet decay of antibiotics mixed with rot, so she got a bucket and scrubbed.

Florence snuck out of the building and attempted to call Wendy multiple times, but there was nothing but a busy signal, so she snuck back inside. She barely remembered to take her meds, but she couldn't take care of the fallen prince if she didn't care for herself.

Afterward, she located Blackstone, carried him to his new stiff plastic hospital bed, and felt his bones pressed against her body.

He mumbled something she couldn't understand.

"Poor baby, you're lighter than a child," she whispered to him. "You'll be okay; you have to be okay, or I'll force you to be."

She moved around the thick burgundy curtain to hide him further and collapsed on the cheap hospital cot next to him.

Edgar entered with the bags and needles. "Are you friends with The Damsel?"

"We weren't close friends, but we knew each other." Florence breathed deeply. "He left the castle only to cook for the troops because of all the women chasing him. It was good stew, though, and we talked, but nothing came of it." She hoped her brother would believe the lie or half-truth and sucked in the air, but he had been too drunk to notice before.

Florence volunteered to protect him from soldiers carrying him off and selling him to the highest bidder, and she unloaded on him about Griffin cheating on her to warn Cora at least. She also confessed that the chosen ones, except for Wendy, seemed unworthy. Florence felt as if she wore an invisible mask to hide her doubts about the war and herself. Sometimes it was easier for her to spill her secrets to a stranger, which is why she was always uncomfortable around him, but Florence wouldn't let her awkwardness and humiliation about their past stop her from helping him survive. She was focused on the important task, and her plan worked.

Over the next seven days, Blackstone's bones no longer stuck out of his skin. He regained some of his beauty, and he finally became fully conscious.

"Please, call Wendy." His mouth trembled.

She stood up. "I tried to contact her; she won't answer, but I'll try again." Florence borrowed a yellow cloak, left the building, and called Wendy from a restaurant phone three blocks away.

She blended in with the outside workers, drinking their tea and eating cheese and onion sandwiches.

The phone picked up; she got through.

"Wendy, Blackstone is alive, and he has called out for you. I've got to go before I'm spotted."

"Please, save him," Wendy begged.

"I'll try, but don't tell anyone he is alive. Not even, Thackeray."

"He's so sad, and he helped Tribeca escape. No one is as trustworthy. Are you sure I can't at least hint at it?" Wendy asked.

"Fine, tell him, but I have to go." Florence ran back. She took a different path to the prison clinic, and a guard let her in through a side door.

~ ~ ~ ~

Two Days Later:

Florence fed the prince roasted tomato soup for the first time after his diet of clear foods ended.

"The magic truth potion is leaving your system. Revelation-class drugs never worked," Florence said. "Alva killed hundreds, torturing them to death. The potion starves you unless you confess your secrets."

Edgar slipped inside the room. "We need to cut his hair."

Florence placed the empty bowl. "Blackstone needs his long hair as part of his disguise when he becomes well enough to leave."

"Please, don't take me to my aunt," Blackstone trailed off into a whisper.

"I won't." Florence stayed with him and slept in her chair.

Edgar moved a sign to trick Alva, but he didn't come, and prisoners and officers howled with joy when the news came about his death.

Officers allowed the prisoners to eat black cake to celebrate.

Blackstone appeared relieved by the news, but not vengeful. Every time The Damsel's body gave up, he sprung back. His eyes opened, and his essence fought for existence. He struggled too hard for it to be a rally.

"Thank you. Florence, you're kind," he whispered. "She has a new special phone Thackeray gave her. It's not easily traced." Blackstone whispered the number to her.

Florence dialed. "That might come in handy." Florence shoved her phone into Blackstone's ears.

Blackstone whispered. "I'm allergic to not eating. How are you?"

"Please survive. Alva only did this to torture us," Wendy said over the phone.

The sickly prince started coughing.

"Blackstone needs to go, but I'll keep in touch." Florence hung up, walked to the medicine cabinet, and gave the prince two pink pills and a swig of syrup.

"Thank you for allowing me to talk to Wendy." Blackstone weaved in and out of consciousness.

Screams filled the halls, and Blackstone and Florence stopped talking.

"And I snuck away from my troops." Petunia's shrill voice filled the hallway. "Alva and Victor wanted to prank Thackeray, but it seemed he lost my nephew. How do you lose a full person?"

Florence watched from a crack in the doorway.

"I'll handle it," Griffin said.

She hugged him. "Thanks. I need to get back to Alva's funeral. I'll claim his property because we were about to be engaged, but I'm devastated that he's dead. Alva always fought for me, and I loved him." Queen Petunia left.

Florence saw Griffin through the cracks in the wall, but he couldn't see or hear them.

"Sir Griffin Redborn is an evil moron for hurting my sister, Cora, and you," Blackstone mumbled. "He is an idiot, a cheater, and a puppet. You know how Petunia likes to manipulate dolls."

"Yes, she does." Florence stood up and walked into the other room. "Griffin, I got arrested, but there is a bail issue. All the officers are too scared to cuff me."

"Who did you hit?" Griffin asked.

She winked at him. "Am I the only one who has ever started a prison riot to discover who killed a prince?" Florence flexed her right arm. "Will you bail me out?"

"No!" Griffin ran towards the door. "I think I better leave, and I'll tell Petunia I didn't find anything, but I'll be back when you're gone."

"But why are you afraid of me?" Florence asked.

"I'm...not...scared...of...you!" Griffin stuttered. He breathed deeply. "Unless you want to kiss. I mean, we can make a trade."

"Not exactly, but you can help." Florence walked to the commissary and handed Griffin a large trash bag filled with crushed chips and blankets. "Take this to the woods and bury the sack. Just don't let Petunia see you carrying it."

Griffin ran with the light bag.

Florence walked back to the room.

"You know he'll never do what you ask." Blackstone started coughing.

She administered a purple syrup into a spoon as if he were a child. "That is the point."