“So, Sable.”

Well, there go my chances of getting out of here. The price my name carries is… is a high one, particularly down here. I’m not the most popular person in the Undercity, funnily enough.

I also can’t talk with this gag in my mouth.

Go figure.

The woman who brought me here — who used the most pathetic attack I’ve ever experienced and still got me in her little corner — laughs when I jerk my head in an attempt to signal that I’d rather like to have a chance to speak. It’s much easier to pretend like you’re begging for mercy when you’re capable of speech. She leans over and brushes a finger over my forehead, making me shudder despite the burning sensation it provides.

Something is… something is off.

But I have a prince to protect and a life to live, and neither parts of that life-plan involve getting sold off for my sort-of ransom price.

I wonder how valuable Lucien would be…

“Oh, Carmen, you think I’m going to risk letting you speak?”

Aha!

She’s a witch! She is an idiot who has the inherent inability to comprehend being able to cast spells without speaking.

Which, go figure, is exactly what I can do.

So like any sane mage-child in the situation I’m in, I let the sparks fly.