Ashputtel

XI: Robin

I stormed down the hallway, a man on a mission. A stupid one. For the umpteenth time this week one of my mates had sent me to get tea.

I wasn't an idiot. Robin could you go get us some tea was code for we're about to have a heated argument over the size of our egos and don't want to upset you. I ought to lock them in a room together for a few hours to see who finally wins that member measuring contest.

I stopped dead in my tracks. Wait... That could just work. Although I couldn't just lock them in a room, the two brutes could easily take down the door, but maybe if I used a spell or potion of some sort...

I turned on my heel and ran to the herb storage grabbing sage of the diviners, spearmint, chamomile, and lemon grass. I grounded them up and bagged it, tucking it away in my pocket for safe keeping as I strode my way towards the kitchens.

"Erica–" the kitchenmaid stopped me before I could even ask, holding a filled kettle.

"I was just about to put it on the stove to boil. I noticed you've all developed a tea habit at this time in the afternoon. Didn't want you to wait too long. I just sent a boy to grind the leaves for mix, not a moment ago."

"Actually, if it isn't much trouble, I want to use this blind," I say, handing her the tea bag. "A lord we visited in Luxewell had this mixture and it was to die for. I think my mates would appreciate the flavor palette, ground it up myself this morning."

She nods, taking the bag from my hands and we made small talk as I waited for the kettle to hiss and tea trolley to be prepared.

"Would you like me to peddle it up for you, sire?"

"That won't be necessary," I replied.

I wheeled the trolley back to our chambers muttering an incantation under my breath. A stream of yellow smoke came from the kettle once I was done, but I waved the suspicious cloud away before it could raise any brows.

It was a simple spell for a complex illusion. Once they drink the tea they'll be "trapped" in whatever illusion I will. While I was taught this spell for a way to knock out kidnappers, a more mild tricking my mates into thinking their in a heavily warded locked version of our bedroom should do just fine.

They're voices grew quiet as they heard me approach and I put on an oblivious face to it as I pushed the door open. "They had a lemongrass blend in the kitchens."

The two of them said nothing as I poured each of us a cup. I made sure to pour myself slightly more than the two of them. The entire thinking behind the spell was you're in a situation where you have to drink the tea to prove you haven't spiked the drinks of everyone else assembled. He who drinks the most of the potion controls the illusion.

The three of us sat in near silence, nibbling on small cakes as we drank our tea. I finished mine first, eyeing the two of them as they each finished their post argument snack.

I could feel the affects of the tea setting in, the influx of power running through my veins vibrating. Now or never I suppose.

"I'm going to bring the trolley back down," I said, getting to my feet. They both helped me clear our mess and I brought the trolley to the door before stopping my movements all together. I watched in wide eyed wonder as a ghost of me opened the door and pushed some phantom trolley out, closing the door back shut behind him.

"It's not fair to him that we keep doing this," Asher says.

"I know. What do we say to him? Shifters are meant to value mating bonds more than casters and we've just shown him the complete and utter opposite. The fact of the matter is that we both can't seem to stay in the same room for longer than half an hour without arguing and our spirits trying to rip each other's heads off. So, what do we do," Winston asks.

"We try and figure out a solution."

"I think the solution is quite clear here. You just have to reign in that wolf of yours. The entire reason why we can't seem to get along is the power struggle between our spirits."

"Why do I have to reign in Cinder? You control Alto."

"My spirit isn't the one being irrational here."

"Irrational? You don't think it plausible that I could be the more dominant one?"

"I'm not trying to hurt your pride but, Asher, be realistic. You're only a Lord–"

Asher let out a viscous growl at that, Cinder clearly gunning for control.

"I could take you down easily, pup. Be careful who you growl at," Winston snapped, Alto seething at the surface.

Asher seemed to snap out of it, and let out a sigh. "I'm not going to fight you," he said, heading for the door. He  took a step towards the handle and was thrown back, across the room, the mattress breaking his fall.

Winston ran over to him and asked if he was okay. The two of them looked perplexed and I watched Asher mumble some incantation, making the false wards of the illusion glimmer through the air.

"What is it?"

"Someone's locked us in here," Asher said.

"Robin," they both said at once.

"But how," Asher questioned. "When?"

"Does that matter? He clearly locked us in here to settle whatever this is, so let's settle it."