The thing Nun called a trial went by quickly as far as Asha was concerned. Soon enough, a girl with cuffs around her wrists and wings was being escorted out. Queen Whitlock smirked and motioned for her son to follow. He would have done so regardless, but he thought it was nice to know she thought it was fitting to include him.

  The young blue prince spied the mayor one last time as he exited the building. The man was slumped against a wall, looking like death was about to take him any minute. Asha knew his mother wasn’t that lucky, though.

  It was still pleasing enough to see the man down on his luck. Nun was a nuisance for his nation, but beyond that, the mayor just had a face the boy didn’t like. Punchable was probably the best descriptor he could give. However, Ahsa wouldn’t want to dirty his hands like that. He would just have to be content with their little victory.

  The evil girl, Dia, was going to be lugged away to Quenth, where she would receive a real trial and proper judgment. His mother had been pressing for the Nun trial to be simply a release of her to their nation, and whatever strings she pulled in the background seemed to have paid off. The decision was unanimous.

  “Mother,” Asha said once they were only in earshot of Quenth representatives, “do you plan to execute that witch?”

  His mother replied in a sweet voice, “Execution would be too nice a punishment for her, but don’t you worry, I will find a use for her. First, we will trim those wings, then once she has a more palatable appearance, perhaps we shall let some of the castle advisors have their way with her.”

  It was clear his mother had not fully thought out all she would do to punish the witch, but Asha could be certain it would be the most fitting for a filthy creature like Dia. He wondered if he would get the chance to punish her. Perhaps he could throw the witch in with some of his more dangerous pets and see how she fared in survival. He was sure it would be good entertainment at the least, nothing like the silly concert battles she put on.

  As the boy followed his mother around a corner that would lead them to stairs reaching the eventual exit, he couldn’t help but glance out a passing window. On the street below, a crowd of Dia supporters continued the same protest he had seen when he entered. Rain was beginning to beat their heads rather intensely, but not one of the protesters let up in a loud chant that only came across as a wash of din to the young boy.

  He was surprised there were so many in one place. Somewhere in his mind, Asha had thought all beauideal fans were hideously fat and prone to locking themselves inside their rooms. Yet, the people outside would seem normal, if not for the fact that they were crying for a witch to be released.

  Queen Whitlock stepped next to the prince’s side. He had not realized what meant to be a quick glance turned into a long stare. Looking up at his mother, he saw squinted eyes.

  “The storm is getting this intense already?” she said to herself. Not wanting to be left out, Asha pretended he was part of the conversation.

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  “It is unusual for us to get such extreme ones this early. Last year, something like this happened too, did it not, mother?”

  “It was still within the Washing season last year, at least. Crenussal, help us, what have we done to this planet?” Queen Whitlock waved some of her staff closer. “Make sure that woman gets on the ship and heads to Quenth. We will make arrangements to stay in Nun for the night to wait for the storm to pass.”

  “Ah, do we really have to stay here?”

  “It would not be wise to set sail. The waves could get high enough to catch the hoverplates.”

  He knew his mother was right. She was always right, after all. Asha still didn’t want to deal with whatever the city’s idea of a nice bedroom was, even knowing that. For all he knew, it would be some gaudy yet sleezy accommodation. The kind his mother accused his father of occasionally enjoying when he was still around. Much as he loved his late father, Asha didn’t want to be anything like him.

  His mother sent off several of her advisors, then turned to stare back at the window. She said nothing for a moment, leaving Asha to wonder what was on her mind. He was sure it was far more brilliant than anything he could put in his imagination. He settled to stare at the crowd of pathetic people again, taking note of how it consisted of all sorts of races, ages, sexes, and sizes. And yet all were fools for the witch. He couldn’t believe people could be so stupid. Nun truly was a place where idiocy was nurtured. He wasn’t surprised Fiona had such good things to say about it upon her return.

  They watched a while longer, as the rain continued to grow heavy and the sky began to groan long and low, warning of the coming threat. Some of the more astute individuals took the signs seriously and left the protest behind them. Still, a large enough crowd remained when the doors were opened and armed Aqueenian troops marched out. Asha hadn’t realized that his mother brought such serious soldiers along. The mayor of Nun must have been a pushover, letting those warriors in.

  The protestors remained content with leaving a path, for a moment at least. Behind the first wave of troops, the restrained Dia, with her Needaimus suspended in a pod, was escorted out next. All at once, the remaining idiots shouted and charged forward. Shields appeared within the hands of the soldiers, and they formed a defensive wall to stop the oncoming crowd. Arms flailed around and through gaps, and those in the back started to charge around to attack the sides.

  Asha knew it was all a fool's errand. He had seen those shields before, and that meant one thing. Mother’s Supreme Four guards were here.

  All at once, the crowd trying to rush the sides was suddenly pushed back by what seemed to be nothing. In the same moment, a skinny, purple man with a long scarf around his lower face appeared next to Dia. She jumped slightly at his sudden appearance.

  Some more guards followed out of the door, with the other three Supreme Four just behind them. From a distance, all Asha could make out were the simple features. A blue man with long black hair. A pink girl in a puffy white dress. And a green soldier dressed in typical Aqueenian wear. His eyes must have glowed.

  Queen Whitlock never let them roam publicly and usually had them sent away on special missions as well. For all four to be there at once was something of a wonder. He wished he could have been closer. Perhaps even asked for an autograph.

  The crowd may have consisted of idiots, but collectively, they had to have at least formed the single brain cell to know when they couldn’t win. Asha watched with glee as they figeted and shuffled to the sides to let the escorting Dia through. A few tried to get a surprise blow in, but suddenly vanished before they could get anywhere. After the third time, the others must have realized it was hopeless.

  Asha had to wonder how the witch felt. Surrounded by so many so-called loyal fans who now let her be carted to her execution without a peep. He wished he could have seen her face. Hopefully, the boat would make it to Quenth so he could see it later.