Prince's Apartment
The door slid open with a mechanical hum, and Charlie's eyes widened as she stepped inside.
She had expected some dingy apartment—maybe a few weapons, dirty magazines, chains dangling from the ceiling. A place that screamed "dangerous mercenary."
Instead… it was actually quite nice.
"Wow," she breathed, letting her suitcase slip from her hands. "This is… actually kind of cozy."
The apartment had a sleek feel, with a lot of black and red décor. The walls were painted a matte black that absorbed the glow of neon strips tucked into every edge and corner. A large gray couch sat in the center of the room.
Above it, a winding staircase led to a loft. At the top was clearly Prince's bedroom, with an open Alaskan king-sized bed that looked super comfortable.
Plus, a whole lot of pillows.
The far-right wall was dominated by a massive window the size of a billboard, showing the dark reddish glow of Pride's moon and, faintly, Heaven's radiance shining like a jewel in the sky.
Prince didn't bother giving her a tour. He kicked off his boots, walked straight to the fridge, and popped the cap off a beer. The hiss of carbonation filled the silence as he took a sip.
"You want one?" he asked, not even glancing back.
Charlie smiled politely and shook her head. "No, thank you. I don't drink. But…" she paused, trying to sound casual, "maybe you could tell me how exactly we're going to save Razzle?"
Prince took a large gulp from the bottle before answering. "Ricky already told us."
Charlie tilted her head. "Yes, he told us, but… how are we going to find out where the auction actually is? He didn't give us an address or anything that could lead us to finding him."
Prince turned his head just enough for the glowing visor to angle toward her. His voice carried that faint, mocking lilt she'd already come to hate. "I said Ricky told us. Pay attention, princess."
She bristled, cheeks pink. "I was paying attention! He didn't—"
Prince cut her off with a lazy wave of his beer bottle. "While you were busy giving your best 'winning smile' and talking about your little pet project, he and I were having another conversation. Morse code. His knuckles were tapping on the cutting board the second I leaned in. While my visor was flashing behind you."
Charlie blinked at him. "You're kidding."
"Not even a little."
"You mean he was tapping out secret information without telling me?"
"Pretty much."
Charlie gawked at him. "Do you know how frustrating you are? I thought I was making progress with him!"
"You weren't," Prince said flatly, taking another swig.
Charlie crossed her arms, chin lifting slightly. "Well, okay, but he still gave us what we needed. And for the record—" she stabbed a finger toward him, "—people actually do respond to kindness. You just… you don't believe it because you've never tried it."
Prince chuckled, shaking his head. "You really think you're gonna hug your way through Hell? How adorable. Makes me almost not want to shoot myself."
Charlie opened her mouth to snap back but stopped when he set the empty beer bottle down with a decisive clink. His mask pulsed with red light for a moment, as if to punctuate his words.
"Ricky's tip means we need to seek out Polonia," he said. "She's most likely got an invite to Lupo's little soul auction. And she owes me a favor."
Charlie perked up despite herself. "So we're going to go meet her?"
"That's the plan."
"And she'll help us?"
Prince leaned back against the counter. "She'll help me."
Charlie exhaled. "Okay. Then tell me what the actual plan is. Because if it's just walking in there with guns blazing—"
"It's not."
She blinked. "It's not?"
"No. We've got three options." He raised a gloved hand, ticking them off with his fingers. "Option one: what you're probably thinking of doing. You walk in, smile, sing a song about how there's a better way, hope everyone suddenly finds their inner goodness, and lets your friend go free."
Charlie frowned. That's exactly what she was thinking of doing. "You don't have to say it like that."
"Yes, I do. Because it's suicide."
Her frown deepened.
"Option two," he went on, "we secure a ticket for the auction and just outbid every noble and crime boss in the room. Throw money around until you get your little bird back."
Charlie blinked, then shook her head quickly. "That's… that's not feasible. I don't have that kind of money. And even if I did, I wouldn't want to fund something that horrible."
Prince smirked faintly behind the mask. "Didn't think so."
"Then what's option three?"
He leaned forward slightly, voice dropping lower. "We sneak in before the auction starts. Get to your friend, get him out, and hope nobody notices until we're long gone."
Charlie hesitated, biting her lip. "That sounds… risky."
"They're all risky," Prince said simply. "Difference is, this one's possible."
Charlie's fists tightened at her sides. Finally, she lifted her chin stubbornly.
"I still don't want to start a fight if we don't have to. If there's even a chance for a peaceful option, we should take it."
Prince exhaled with a long sigh. The mask opened halfway so he could take another drink. The faint light from the fridge haloed his sharp features as he tilted his head back.
"You sure about that?"
"One million percent," Charlie said simply.
He set the bottle down again and glanced at her, a wry edge in his voice. "Stubborn as hell. But I can't say I don't like that about you, princess."
Charlie dared a small smile. "I guess it just runs in the family." Then she asked to reaffirm her plan. "So you'll at least consider trying it my way?"
"I'll see if Polonia will meet us. No promises."
That was as close to a victory as she was going to get. Charlie clasped her hands together. "Thank you! I knew you weren't completely heartless."
Prince chuckled darkly, visor flickering with black light as his mask slid back into place. "Careful, princess. You keep saying that, I might start charging you extra."