Ficlets

A Return to the City

“W-where am I?” Alfred asked, touching his face. The man had gingerly wrapped bandages around his eyes, to lessen the effect of his appearance.

“In Perbrook.” the blacksmith answered, “Cheap street.”

“Perbrook?” Alfred asked, the cloth forgotten, he was in the city again? But… where was the rest of the search party, what had happened in the woods?

“Aye, Perbrook, son. Must be confused, eh? Little too much to drink last night, I’ll reckon.” He chuckled, “Eh well, where you from, boy? Now that we got you fixed up, might as well find your place. You look well-off. Lexington Quarter, maybe? Glassten Street?”

“No, no I must get to the palace!” Alfred stood, then struggled to sit again, the blackness making him dizzy and afraid.

“The palace? Can’t go there now, not with the prince dyin’ and all… Poor family, and the pretty little mite brought to marry him. Poor things all of ‘em.”

“I must see them, I am the prince!” Alfred insisted.

The man huffed, “I wouldn’t joke like that, no-eyes.”

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