The Errant Prince (15 page)

"For all that it makes a dramatic story, it wasn't that dramatic outside the house," Myron said, shrugging. "Mostly only my parents cared, particularly once I proved to have a knack for being knocked around with a sword."

"So now what?" Tamsen asked, tired of waiting for the other shoe to drop. "Do you want me to go?"

"If I wanted you to go, I wouldn't have brought you here in the first place," Myron said. He sighed, shifting in his seat on the bed. "And if I'd been thinking straight, I wouldn't have gone straight to the practice yards to pick fights. Just… know that I'm happy with where I am and what I do and don't try to change that."

"As long as you promise not to cut me out, not without talking to me first. No leaving me hanging without even a note," Tamsen said, making a note to yell at Stirling for interfering. Even if Stirling had had the best intentions, it sounded like he'd gone about it in as heavy-handed a manner as possible. Tamsen also made a note to himself to watch what he said around Stirling; he'd forgotten how much Stirling liked to meddle. That had been one of the reasons he and Hartley had decided to keep their relationship secret initially.

"Deal," Myron said, giving Tamsen a weak smile. Tamsen tentatively returned it, wondering if it could be that easy. Myron sighed, bending forward over his knees with a quiet groan. He gave Tamsen a woeful look. "I'm out of practice."

"You didn't look it," Tamsen said. If that had been Myron out of practice—well, woe betide the other guards when Myron was in practice.

"All a farce," Myron said, straightening with a groan. He smiled, still hesitant. "But I'm glad I showed well for myself."

"Definitely," Tamsen said, his cheeks heating slightly. He wouldn't mind watching Myron spar more often. He liked watching Myron move. Clearing his throat, Tamsen changed the subject. "What else did Stirling tell you?"

"You mean, what did he ask me about you?" Myron asked, grinning. Tamsen scowled, though it was half-hearted in the face of Myron's smile. "Let's just say your brother has your best interests at heart."

"What did he say?" Tamsen demanded. He'd meant to ask after what Myron knew about the situation with Hartley, but Stirling and Myron had discussed him? He really should have known better than to mention Myron to Stirling, even if Stirling had been the one to bring him up.

Myron shook his head. "Nothing my sister won't say to you." That was vague, and Tamsen made a note to pester Stirling about that later as well. "I gathered from it that your affairs with Lord Whitwood are concluded, however."

"Completely. Well, nearly," Tamsen corrected. "The part with Hartley is finished. Stirling is drawing up the papers for my abdication. That will take a few days, and then I'll be done."

"And gone?" Myron asked, his tone serious.

"I thought I'd stay a while," Tamsen said, smiling. His face was turning red again, but Tamsen didn't let that stop him. "Turns out there's a few things here worth sticking round for."

"Good answer, your highness," Myron said, unfolding from the bed. That time the address was definitely because Myron was a brat. "Tamsen."

"I will go home eventually," Tamsen said, his body thrumming in anticipation as Myron stepped up to his seat. "But I figure I can stick around long enough to make sure you can come to me."

"So I won't have to use that last spell you owe me as leverage to keep you here?" Myron asked. He braced his hands on the chair back, leaning in close.

Tamsen tilted his head back, giving Myron a smile. "You owe me a favor as well, don't forget."

"Oh, I haven't," Myron said. He grinned, leaning even closer, until their lips were almost touching. "I look forward to doing as you command."

Tamsen took the last initiative, closing the space between them and kissing Myron. Myron laughed, muffled against Tamsen's lips. He tasted of sweat, but Tamsen didn't care as Myron took control of the kiss, dragging it deeper.

"Definitely a few things to stay for," Tamsen said when Myron pulled away slightly. Myron grinned, settling in Tamsen's lap, and Tamsen grabbed him by the waist to steady him. Before Tamsen could comment on the lack of manners—not even so much as a
by your leave—
Myron kissed him again, and Tamsen supposed he couldn't really complain in the face of that. 

*~*~*

Tamsen let himself into Stirling's office, his stomach churning as he held the door for Myron. Myron didn't seem alarmed at being summoned to the king's offices, but then, very little seemed to ruffle Myron. Stirling was standing in front of his desk, speaking with Hartley, which only confirmed that Tamsen wasn't going to like whatever was going on.

"Ah, Tamsen, there you are. I was beginning to think you'd run off again," Stirling said. He waved Tamsen to approach, nodding to Myron with a polite, "Guardsman."

"Your majesty," Myron said, his voice cool.

"Not yet," Tamsen said, giving Stirling a pointed look. "What's this about?"

"Fixing things with Sumira," Stirling said. "Come, sit." He led the way over to the conference table below the large arch windows on the east side of the room. Tamsen followed slowly, his unease not soothed by that proclamation. It did explain Hartley's presence, in a way, since Hartley was directly related to the problem of Tamsen's eligibility, but why was
Myron
there?

Not that Tamsen minded that, per se. Myron smiled at him, a hint of mischief in the expression that reminded Tamsen of what they'd been interrupted doing. Stirling had the
worst
timing.

The table was stacked high with papers and books that looked to mostly be about laws and regulations. There were enough seats at the table to fit a good dozen people, and Stirling led them down to the far end, which was mostly clear. Once they were settled—Stirling at the head, Hartley on his left, Tamsen on his right, and Myron next to Tamsen—Stirling said with a grin, "You need to leave again, Tamsen."

Tamsen scowled at Stirling. He wasn't funny, no matter what he thought. "What do you mean, I need to leave? Is this a joke?"

"No," Stirling said, his smile going slightly lopsided. "As much as I would prefer for you to stay in Rishaw and never leave, your presence is going to make things complicated. Ellewyn is visiting next month to cement the details of our alliance—including the matter of who is marring whom."

"So you want me gone for that," Tamsen said. That made sense, he supposed, and he didn't really
want
to be around for that. He didn't want to leave Myron behind, though. Maybe that was why Myron was here? To be ordered to take Tamsen away?

"I do," Stirling said. He folded his hands on the table and frowned at Tamsen. "I've made some decisions you're not going to like in order to get you what you want."

Tamsen sighed, rubbing his forehead. He glanced at Hartley, wondering again
why
he had to be here for this. Hartley offered a sympathetic smile, which was the opposite of soothing. "Tell me, then."

"You're aware that most people think you're a hermit. I'm going to play off of that. For the moment," Stirling waved a hand toward Hartley, "your engagement to Hartley stands."

Tamsen gritted his teeth, and then opened his mouth to protest—but Hartley spoke up before Tamsen could, saying, "Temporarily, for the purpose of this ruse." He smiled at Tamsen. It wasn't a happy smile, but Tamsen couldn't take any satisfaction from that.

"You're running away from it," Stirling said. He grinned, looking pleased with himself. "And your princely duties, for which we're going to strip you of your title and break your engagement with Hartley."

"I don't like it," Tamsen said, scowling at Stirling. He didn't like the deception. He wanted to stay here for a few more weeks, finish teaching Myron to shift, spend time with Myron and his family, and then go home. He wanted to abdicate, not be stripped of his titles.

"I don't care," Stirling said. His amusement faded away. "You'll no longer be a prince, Tamsen, and you won't have to marry anyone. That's what you wanted."

Tamsen opened his mouth, and then shut it because it was true. That was what he wanted; it just wasn't how he wanted it. "I can come back when Ellewyn leaves?" He didn't look at Myron when he asked, but Stirling's gaze flicked that way briefly, his smile returning. 

"No," Stirling said. "I'm not sure when you'll be able to return, to be honest. I need to sell that you're running away, Tamsen. If you come back immediately after Ellewyn and her contingent leave, it's entirely likely it'll get back to them."

"This is the best you can do?" Tamsen asked, his heart sinking. He couldn't ask Myron to wait for him, not for that long. "I stay away for years again?"

"Not years," Stirling said. He sighed, his mouth twisting down. The lines of exhaustion around his eyes deepened. Guilt twisted in Tamsen's gut. How much of Stirling's stress was because of him? "Months, yes. Maybe a whole year, but I don't want you gone for years again, Tamsen."

"Right," Tamsen said. He slumped in his seat, and he couldn't help but glance at Myron. Myron's face was impassive, but Tamsen thought he could see some annoyance lurking behind Myron's cool façade. "When do I need to run away again, then?"

"As soon as possible," Stirling said, his voice quiet. "I'm sorry, Tamsen. I don't want to see you go—"

"It's fine," Tamsen said. He was well aware everyone at the table knew he didn't think it was actually fine, but he didn't care. He'd do it because it would get him most everything he wanted, and because he'd caused Stirling enough trouble, but that didn't mean he'd like it. "Is that all?"

"No," Stirling said, and he looked amused again. "I'm sure, Guardsman, you're wondering why I requested your presence?"

"Yes, your majesty," Myron said. His voice was still cool, just short of disrespectful. If anything, though, it just made Stirling's smile widen.

"I have a special task for you, if you're amenable," Stirling said. His amused look slid to Tamsen, and Tamsen was fairly certain he was going to hate whatever was coming next if Stirling was that amused by it.

"I live to serve, your majesty," Myron said, which was a blatant lie if Tamsen had ever heard one.

"Wonderful," Stirling said. He nodded to Tamsen. "I find myself loathe to send my brother off into the depths of the country for an unspecified amount of time with no protection."

Tamsen groaned, burying his face in his hands. He really should have figured that Stirling was up to something meddlesome, given he'd had Myron summoned at the same time. He dropped his hands to his lap and glared at Stirling. "I did survive seven years on my own, you know."

Stirling laughed. "I'm aware, though I'm not entirely certain how, given your propensity for infuriating people."

"Shut up," Tamsen said.

Stirling continued as though Tamsen had never interrupted, turning his pleased smile on Myron. "So long as Tamsen doesn't object, I would assign you as a bodyguard to him for the period of time he's banished from the palace and Rishaw. This is an entirely voluntary position, Guardsman, so do not feel as though you have to say yes."

"What exactly does this entail?" Myron asked. His voice was warmer, which was a good sign, but Tamsen couldn't bring himself to look at Myron. It was asking a lot for Myron to give up his life in Rishaw for months at bare minimum, potentially up to a year or two. They'd only known each other a few weeks, and Myron didn't even know how to shift, so he wouldn't be able to return to Rishaw immediately.

"You won't leave with Tamsen," Stirling said. "I don't want rumors of Tamsen running off with someone else. Tamsen has been teaching you to shift?"

"Yes, your majesty," Myron said. Hartley had to have told Stirling about that. Though at that, Myron may have told Stirling that during their meeting earlier.

"We'll see to it that your training on that spell is completed," Stirling said. "Once you're able to shift, you'll join Tamsen and protect him. You'll return once a month to report, and once it's safe for Tamsen to return, your assignment will be over."

"I still maintain I don't need protection," Tamsen grumbled when Myron didn't say anything immediately. What if he said no? What if he said
yes
?

"I don't think anyone will go after you, Tamsen, but I don't want to be proven wrong. Your reappearance has ruffled some feathers, and there are plenty of people who think an alliance with Sumira is a bad idea. I don't want you to be used as leverage. You will be getting some form of protection, whether you want it or not," Stirling said. "I also want to know exactly where you've been living—"

"No," Tamsen said, refusing on that. "It's safer if no one knows where I am, not even you. Myron can know if he decides to take your assignment, but that's it."

"Fine," Stirling said after a short pause. "Guardsman, what say you?"

"However much I would like to say yes, your majesty," Myron began, and Tamsen's heart sank. Myron was going to say no. "I would need to discuss it with his highness, first."

"Then let's go discuss," Tamsen said quickly. He shot Stirling a quelling look when he grinned and shoved his chair back. He nodded to Hartley, who nodded back. If he thought anything about Myron protecting Tamsen, it didn't show on his face, and Tamsen was thankful for that. He didn't think he could deal with Hartley being jealous on top of everything else.

"I need an answer today," Stirling said before Tamsen could do more than stand. Myron stood next to him, tugging his jacket straight. "I apologize for the short time frame, Guardsman, but I do need to make other arrangements if this isn't a suitable solution for you both."

"Yes, your majesty," Myron said.

Tamsen didn't acknowledge that, leading Myron over to the far side of the room, near the bar. He helped himself to the whiskey, offering Myron a glass. Myron shook his head with a smile and glanced back at the table where Hartley and Stirling were talking quietly.

"You don't have to say yes," Tamsen said. He sipped at the whiskey, steeling himself for Myron's inevitable rejection. It would be months away from Rishaw, if not years.

"I don't have to say no," Myron said, his mouth slanting into a smile. "I'll say no if that's what you want, but being assigned to spend months alone with you isn't exactly my idea of a terrible time, your highness."