by Sam Argent
Turren put the cup back. “I’m being prudent.”
Sebastian eyed him suspiciously and frowned at the bulge Turren was trying to hide under the sheets. “Funny, I have a feeling that your thoughts might interest me a great bit. By what pleasure god could you have that reaction in your condition?” Sebastian asked as he pointed at Turren’s crotch.
Turren glared at him. “Since you won’t respect my dignity, I shall tell you exactly what my mind pictured. I thought it would be very interesting to watch my cock disappear down your throat while lovemaking.”
“How do you plan on making that fantasy come true?” Sebastian asked.
“Hard work and determination.”
“And this for the son of a dishonored lord? You plan on wooing me?”
“Yes and yes,” Turren said. “I will find out what curse maligns your body, and I will free you from it no matter how far I must travel to cure you. That is the only way I can earn your love and show how much you mean to me.”
Sebastian laughed. “You think your love can change my face and give me a life without these cloaks? I’m sorry to inform you, Your Highness, but you are an arrogant little shit. There is no remedy for my face, and I will always look like this regardless of your tries to free me from whatever horrific visage you’ve imagined. Knowing that, do you honestly think when I remove my hood that you could still be happy with me?”
Turren stared at Sebastian thoughtfully. “If you trusted me to see under your hood, I would be the happiest man alive. If you trusted me that much, then that means you return my feelings.” He smiled sheepishly. “No matter how little you think of them.”
SEBASTIAN LOOKED at the prince and wished they had seen each other over the years. He could have watched the prince’s progress and not been blindsided by the fool’s confession. It was easier for Sebastian to reject the familiar well-wishers who hoped he could live uncovered one day. But the prince was a stranger who had no damn right making Sebastian wish for things he couldn’t have. Sebastian’s intention had been to fairly let the prince down without any ambiguity, but after Turren’s ramblings, Sebastian thought, I am going to torment him. Turren had faced downward as he mumbled about his feelings, and Sebastian bent slowly so he wouldn’t notice. Tilting his head so he could catch the prince’s lips unaware, Sebastian kissed him briefly.
Turren blinked as he touched his lips. He looked at his fingers and then looked at Sebastian. “Did… you?” He sat up straighter. “No, that’s not fair!”
“Excuse me?”
“I wasn’t prepared. Kiss me again!”
Sebastian rolled his eyes. If Turren wants more suffering, then who am I to deny His Highness? “Only one more,” he said as he bent again and allowed his lips to linger on wet skin that had been moistened by Turren’s tongue. Turren’s hand stayed on the bed, but he licked at Sebastian’s lips as the kiss continued. Sebastian was inexperienced, but he knew what the prince was requesting. Rolling his eyes again, Sebastian opened his mouth and permitted entry. A very warm tongue touched Sebastian’s front teeth and then went inside his mouth. It was startling to feel someone else’s flesh like that, but Turren wasn’t forceful and Sebastian relaxed. Turren’s tongue went deeper into his mouth, and after tasting as much as possible, it concentrated on Sebastian’s tongue until Sebastian responded. Sebastian pulled back so he could breathe, and Turren obediently released him. There was drool on both their mouths, and Sebastian licked his lips.
Turren gulped. “Does this mean that you are going to take my declaration of courtship seriously?”
Sebastian stared at the hopeful face that was mixed with a little pride. He must suspect it was my first real kiss. That only makes it easier to crush him. Sebastian smiled and said, “No.”
A knock sounded on the door before Turren could respond, and Captain Pembrost peeked his head in. “Frederick says don’t tire yourself out, Your Highness.”
Turren helplessly watched Sebastian walk to the door.
“I’ve fulfilled my end of the bargain, so I can leave now, correct?” Sebastian asked Captain Pembrost.
“Yes, but a group of soldiers will escort you home. What will I tell your parents when they arrive and find out their son already left?”
“After saving the wounded prince, I decided to meditate on the thesis of life and death in balance to the world. I’ll be traveling to find enlightenment or as long as it takes for Father to calm down because I wouldn’t shake you down for three purses.” Sebastian waved his hands in the air like one of the intellectuals his father filled their house with when he wanted to waste money. “But if you catch Ophelia alone, tell her I’m purchasing a book from Bruwen, which I will pay for with one of the purses I expect delivered in my hands.”
“An admirable use of one’s time, Sir Orwell. I’m sorry that I can’t accompany you on your journey,” Prince Turren said regretfully.
“I don’t want to get too close to death, so your absence is in my best interest. Good night, Your Highness.” Sebastian bowed slightly because Captain Pembrost was present.
Prince Turren’s handsome face wrinkled with concern. “Are you positive you can’t wait until your family arrives?”
“I have a few stops that were put on hold when I saved you. I need to get back on the road.”
“Will you visit me when you find a chance?”
“I’ll think about it.” Sebastian turned his back on Turren and walked toward Captain Pembrost who held the door open for him.
“Good night, Sebastian,” Turren whispered, and Sebastian closed the door.
Sebastian looked at Captain Pembrost’s frown. “I didn’t say no.”
“Barely. I’ll take you to grab your things if you still mean to leave tonight.”
“My mind hasn’t changed, and I expect the king to keep his word about the terms of our agreement,” Sebastian said.
“Is that all, Sir Orwell?”
“No. I don’t know why you insist on an escort. Whoever it was only wanted the prince dead, and they were long gone when I found him.”
“Just the same, I like to protect the king’s future assets.” Captain Pembrost smirked.
“What do you mean by future asset?” Sebastian asked when they reached the barracks and he gathered his belongings. “Just because Prince Turren has feelings for me does not mean I will marry him.”
“I didn’t say that.”
Sebastian turned in Captain Pembrost’s direction and stared.
Captain Pembrost shrugged. “Okay, I hinted at it, but you can’t blame me for trying to help my prince. He could do a lot worse.”
CHAPTER 6
“ARE YOU a lord?” Lieutenant Adams questioned for the third time.
Captain Pembrost has an unpleasant sense of humor. The guard who had confronted Sebastian at the castle led his unwanted escort of six. “No.”
“You’re important but not that important, or else he would have sent a different lieutenant with you. I think he’s punishing us both. So you annoy him, but he likes you. You’re a weird man, Sir Orwell.”
Sebastian shrugged.
“You were more talkative at the castle. Sure, I wanted to shoot you because of it, but that was when I thought you attacked our prince. I only harm a man if I think he’s a killer or a traitor. You’re neither, so go on and talk,” Lieutenant Adams encouraged.
If I didn’t cherish my life, I would have drugged those damn rolls with sleeping powder so I could ride in peace, Sebastian thought. Even the sound of six pairs of hooves trotting in step with his horse grated on his nerves.
“Permission to speak, Lieutenant,” a female soldier spoke up behind Sebastian.
“Permission granted,” Adams said.
“Since you’re not from around here, sir, you probably haven’t heard of the Orwell family. They’re a bunch of charlatans who pretend to be wizards and can only be married off to monstrous sorts.”
Sebastian stayed silent because it was mostly true. Troll, incubus, undine. There weren’t many creatu
res left that his siblings hadn’t married into thanks to his mother’s fey blood. It was either a powerful wizard with an extended life or other mixed humans the Orwell children could marry so they wouldn’t outlive their spouses by centuries.
“You’re a strange fella, Sir Orwell. Many men would be up in arms at such an insult, but you don’t bat an eye… I think.” Lieutenant Adams squinted at Sebastian’s cloaked body.
Sebastian shrugged again. “My family can defend themselves.”
“What about your cloak?” Lieutenant Adams pointed at it. “There’s a lot of magic in that thing.”
“I purchased it from a fortune-teller.”
“Are you lying?” Adams asked.
“Probably,” Sebastian said, and Adams gave up on speaking to him. They reached Bruwen before first light, and Harold’s plush couch called to him. Sebastian glanced at the soldiers. Finding a place to sleep is their problem.
Lieutenant Adams held the lead until little roads began meandering from the main one. “Which way, young sir?”
“After we pass three more roads on the left, we’ll take the right one directly after them.”
“Who are you going to see? Why not leave in the morning?” Lieutenant Adams asked, talkative again now that Sebastian had confirmed their destination was close.
“A bookseller,” Sebastian said.
Lieutenant Adams looked back in annoyance. “Can’t you ever give a proper answer to anything?”
“No.” Sebastian smiled under his hood as the lieutenant groaned.
Most of the shops were dark, and only a few street lamps glowed so late at night. But even without light, Sebastian still recognized the sign with a pen carved out of one of its corners. “There’s a stable behind it where we can tether our horses,” he announced while riding off the path. The soldiers followed him to the well-maintained barn that always had feed and water stocked. “The king pays for these supplies, so don’t be shy.”
They walked to the front, and Sebastian knocked on the door. Several moments passed and no one came. Sebastian sighed. I could use my magic without banging on the door if I was by myself. Or maybe I can do a little something. He pictured the plant sitting on Harold’s desk and imagined it growing a vine to tweak the man’s nose. A startled yelp could be heard from inside the house, and Adams leaned closer.
The door opened and illuminated Harold standing with his glasses dangling off his face. “It’s too darn late. I had an inkwell next to my hand and almost spilled it in my sleep,” he complained while stepping away from the door so the soldiers could stream inside.
Despite the late hour, Harold Bast was fully dressed. A short tan vest over a brown button-down shirt tucked into darker pants, and he looked ready to open. Sebastian couldn’t blame him. The wizard was often visited by important guests during all times of the day. It amazed him how a man with actual power never let it go to his head. Harold hugged Sebastian tightly. “I expected you days ago, but Frederick told me about your troubles. I’m starting to think you enjoy being a hero.”
“His death would have been inconvenient.” Sebastian ignored the snort of anger from Lieutenant Adams as he and the other soldiers walked through stacks of books littering the entryway. They walked into the shop where shelves reached from floor to ceiling, and Sebastian couldn’t blame the soldiers for straining their necks to gawk at them.
Harold straightened his shoulders with pride. “I do have quite a few, don’t I? And yes, while you may have reason to hold no feelings of goodwill for Prince Turren, I appreciate you saving his life. This country is peaceful, and an upheaval in succession leads to war.”
“I may feel a little goodwill toward him now.” Sebastian fingered his side where the book took up residence in his cloak pocket.
“Care to elaborate?”
“He gave me more than gold after I saved his life.” Sebastian reached inside his cloak and handed the treasure to one of the few men who understood its value.
Harold inhaled deeply while the soldiers hovered nearby. “A first edition.” His eyes narrowed as he took in the military escort.
“They’re here as an unnecessary precaution. I didn’t mean to distract you, but do you have it?”
“In my desk upstairs,” Harold said as he handed the book back and led the procession to his home. Unlike the dimly lit downstairs, the living quarters were bright with yellow magelight hanging in every corner. “I wasn’t sleeping long when you arrived.”
“He’s not just some damn bookseller. He’s the one who passed over the job of court wizard,” Adams hissed as Harold led them into a hallway that ended in a staircase leading up.
“Is he?” Sebastian asked. “I thought he was just a kooky wizard with too much free time.”
“There isn’t a chance in hell you actually thought that!”
“Please don’t hold it against him. Sebastian is fond of understating facts,” Harold said as they entered his office. He walked behind his desk, pulled out a drawer, and withdrew a blue leather book with gold-leafed pages.
Sebastian held out the coin they had discussed by mirror, and Harold closed his hand over it.
“I’m tempted to ask how much coin will persuade you to part with the book under your cloak.” Harold stroked his stubbled chin. “Gentlemen and ladies, I appreciate you looking out for my friend, but may we have time alone?” he asked the soldiers.
Lieutenant Adams bowed gracefully. “I trust you, my lord, as one of the men King Harris considers being worthy to serve as his left hand.” Adams then squared his shoulders and ordered his subordinates to exit the room.
When the door closed behind them and Sebastian couldn’t sense anyone remaining in the stairwell, he faced Harold. “The money disappeared as soon as your hand covered mine. Is it safe to assume you put it back in my pouch?”
“Think of it as a gift to the future Prince Consort.” A smile slowly spread across Harold’s face.
“I thought wizards had to be a century old before they started losing their minds.”
“My mind is fine, young man, and you would have to be an idiot not to know what that book represents.”
“Prince Turren kept a promise, that’s all,” Sebastian said.
“What would you say about a man who searched seven years for a book he destroyed to give to a man he bullied as a child? Now let’s say he volunteered to go into a war-torn country in order to find that book?”
Sebastian’s arms remained crossed. “King Harris sent him—”
“King Harris intended to send Captain Pembrost, but Turren insisted he go instead. I thought it was a foolish boy’s way of trying to be a hero until word reached home that Turren was truly helping in Anerith. Now you show me that book.” Harold raised Sebastian’s chin. “Anerith is the only place that would have a surviving copy. I admire the prince. He’s more stubborn than you are.”
“It doesn’t matter what Prince Turren wants.” Sebastian shook his head out of Harold’s hand, regretting that Ophelia had the spell tweaked for family and closest friends.
“And the last piece of evidence.” Harold pointed at the door behind which sounds of the soldiers moving throughout the shop emanated. “Someone with pull believes that Prince Turren might get what he wants.”
“It has been a long night, Lord Bast, and I need a place for the soldiers to sleep. Do you have any available beds?”
Harold tilted his head. “Usually you would say that even the king’s opinion doesn’t matter, but there’s a burr in your side that makes me suspicious.”
“Wizard, you’re as big of a busybody as Captain Pembrost.”
“Ohhh, another man who thinks Turren has a fair chance. I could place a spell on you to reveal your true feelings.” Harold had the nerve to waggle his eyebrows.
“Harold, need I remind you that those beautiful shelves you painstakingly carved are made out of wood?” Sebastian asked sweetly. He raised his finger, and a leaf sprouted on top of the closest shelf.
“Do not th
reaten my beauties! I have two rooms where the floors aren’t completely covered with books, and one I would avoid if you’re a restless sleeper. A few guests complained about being buried.” Harold indulged Sebastian so his shelves remained safe. “You know where blankets are, and the cookie jar on my desk contains the only food I have on hand. Margaret will be by in the morning to bring me breakfast, but I’ll send her a message to make extra. That you can pay for.” Harold held up his hand to stop Sebastian’s protests. “We’ll talk about the rest in the morning.”
With blankets in hand, he showed three soldiers to the first room and the rest to the second one.
“I don’t think either room can fit four.” Adams’s gaze traveled from bookshelf to bookshelf. Hooper threw her blanket down on the floor next to a small table, and a younger blond soldier with hair sticking out in yellow wisps made his own pallet by the window. “Are you taking the third room?”
“Not after spending more than two hours freeing Harold’s cousin because Harold wouldn’t use magic against his books,” Sebastian reminisced. “There’s a couch in the shop. It’s very nice and comfy.” He couldn’t help but laugh at Adams’s outraged face.
“You’re a mean man, but you have a nice laugh. Do it more often. By the way, what were you and Lord Bast—” Sebastian shut the door in Adams’s face before he could finish his question.
CHAPTER 7
SEBASTIAN WAS used to Harold’s complicated system of organizing books, so he had the morning’s orders prepared according to the notebook he’d swiped from under the wizard’s sleeping head. I’m only letting you sleep because I’m grateful for the lodgings. Sebastian didn’t wake the soldiers because two of them were always awake and alerted the others when he got up.
Adams found the teapot and served all seven of them. “There isn’t any food here,” the lieutenant complained.
“Margaret stops by when Harold opens his door. She never comes by too early because he doesn’t sleep as much as he should.” Sebastian handed the lieutenant a list of sales. “Match these books to their buyers and wrap them in those cloths by Sergeant Hooper.” The soldiers obeyed, and Sebastian showed them how to tie neat ribbons. Not bad, he thought when he saw their first bundles. Be it moving books from one table to another or setting up a display of newer books in the windows, they quickly performed the tasks. “I think Harold would hire you if you decided to leave His Majesty’s service.”