Exercpt From Spoiled Prince

Garrick eyed the yolky slop doubtfully, twitching uncertainly.
“Ma, it ain’t muggers’ time,” Gilbert whined, yolk dribbling down his chin. “I don’t see why I ain’t allowed to stay up like Neal! My friend,” he added as Garrick glanced at him.
“Neal is differently disciplined, Ariothis Gilbert Marson, and both your mother and I expect that you will react to our method differently,” Ralf said sharply, raising his eyebrows. “Therefore you will issue no complaints.” Gilbert was silent. Garrick stared at him sympathetically. When the young prince had lived at the royal palace he had been able to go to bed as late as he wished, listening to old Bard Rhem tell tales of the elder days and watching the court dwarves and jesters amuse the great ladies and lords.


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