The Prince's Consort (Chronicles of Tournai Book 1)

by Antonia Aquilante

  Philip resisted the urge to roll his eyes. Was Arnau really playing the concerned father trying to protect his son’s virtue after offering it to Philip? Or just upset Philip hadn’t agreed to an extension on the delivery date before spiriting Amory away? “It seemed you’d said everything you needed to say, Master Arnau. I wished to speak with Amory. As you said, Amory and I seem to have much in common. We have agreed to see if a friendship might grow between us. As such, Amory will be staying here at the palace for the foreseeable future.”

  “Your Highness!” Arnau exclaimed. Alban’s mouth dropped open, making him look like a landed fish.

  Philip hoped Amory could find some amusement in his brother’s reaction at least. “I think Amory and I will get on quite well.”

  “Your Highness—”

  “There are two men in the corridor who will accompany you home, and return with Amory’s things.” They also carried a note Amory dashed off to his sister, giving an explanation and asking her to pack his possessions. Philip wasn’t sure what his servants would return with if Amory’s father was left to supervise the packing. “I will give you an additional week to deliver the chandelier. One week, Master Arnau, and I will expect the completed chandelier.”

  “Of course, Your Highness.” Arnau bowed, and though he did not look happy, he allowed Cathal to usher them from the room.

  Philip turned to Amory as soon as they were alone. “Are you all right?”

  Amory blinked large, dark eyes at him. “Yes, Your Highness.”

  He wasn’t convinced despite Amory’s assurance. Amory looked a little dazed, but a lot had changed for him that afternoon. Philip reaffirmed his decision to take everything slowly. “Let’s get you settled, or as settled as you can be until your things get here.”

  “Thank you, Your Highness.”

  “You’re welcome.” Impulsively, he took Amory’s hand and brought it to his lips. Surprised pleasure lit Amory’s expression. “Your sister won’t have any trouble supervising the packing?”

  Amory’s expression softened further. “Thank you for your concern. Adeline should be fine, Your Highness. I’m glad for the chance to explain what happened to her, even briefly. She would have been worried otherwise.”

  “You and she are close.”

  “Yes, very close.” Amory’s expression turned fond. “I’m sure she won’t be satisfied with the note for long. Hopefully, I can see her.”

  He frowned at Amory’s tentative tone. “You can see her whenever you want. I’m not keeping you prisoner, Amory. You’re living here now, but I’m not going to keep you from seeing your family or friends.”

  He gave the hand he held a comforting squeeze, and Amory smiled at him again. He liked that smile already, wanted to see it all the time. Wanted to kiss those smiling lips again.

  “Your Highness.”

  Cathal’s quiet voice drew him back from Amory. When had he gotten so close? He didn’t remember sliding to the edge of his seat and leaning toward the other man. Nor had he realized Amory had leaned closer to him. It seemed Amory hadn’t either. A slight flush stained Amory’s cheeks as he stepped back.

  Keeping hold of Amory’s hand, Philip turned to face his cousin. He didn’t want Amory going far. “Yes, Cathal?”

  “Master Arnau and Master Alban have left the palace with the men you sent to retrieve Master Amory’s things.”

  He wasn’t sure he cared for Cathal’s carefully blank expression. As proper as his cousin was, Cathal usually allowed himself to show some emotion when they were alone. “Thank you, Cathal.”

  His cousin stared at him. “May I speak with you in private?”

  Philip could guess what was coming. He turned to Amory. “Please give us a moment alone.”

  “Of course,” Amory said. “Should I go out into the corridor?”

  “No, stay. Over by the door is fine. Thank you.”

  Cathal waited until Amory stepped away and spoke in a low voice. “You can’t move a lover into the palace.”

  “I don’t see why not.” He glanced at Amory to make sure he wasn’t listening. Amory seemed the type to worry about how his presence would affect Philip as prince, but he didn’t want Amory to carry that concern. “You think I don’t know that the reason you lobbied for Lady Celeste to receive a position as one of Elodie’s ladies is she’s your mistress and you want her conveniently close?”

  Cathal’s mouth fell open in a less-than-flattering manner. Obviously, he hadn’t realized Philip knew. Cathal pulled himself together. “That’s different.”

  “It is.” Philip was the prince, but it wasn’t unheard of for a prince to have a lover live in the palace with him. It wouldn’t even be the first time a prince openly had a male lover living in the palace, though neither had occurred recently. The true difference was Cathal never kept his lovers for more than a few months at a time. He’d lay money on Amory being there longer than Celeste, and Philip had just met the man. “But not in the way you’re thinking. Not because Amory is a man.”

  Hurt flashed in Cathal’s eyes. “You know I’ve never had a problem with your preference for men.”

  True, Cathal hadn’t. “I know.”

  “I worry about the implications of your decision.” Cathal flicked his eyes to Amory and back to him. “But I don’t care who you sleep with.”

  “Let me worry about implications. Don’t think about who I sleep with. As I try my hardest not to think of you with any of the women you’ve slept with.” He gave an exaggerated shudder and got the reaction he wanted, Cathal laughing. “Just keep accepting it, the way you always have.”

  “Yes, Your Highness.”

  “Amory is staying. Hopefully for a long time.”

  Cathal considered for a moment, something like comprehension dawning in his eyes. He nodded to Amory and raised his voice enough for him to hear. “A pleasure to meet you, Master Amory. Welcome to the palace.”

  Faint surprise flitted over Amory’s face, but when he spoke his tone was gracious and sincere. “Thank you, Lord Cathal.”

  Cathal turned back to Philip. “You don’t have any other meetings this afternoon, Your Highness.”

  “Good. I’m going to get Amory settled.”

  “Let me know if there’s anything you need. I’m going to deal with some correspondence.” With a polite bow, Cathal left the room, leaving Philip alone with Amory.

  He turned to Amory. “Shall I show you your room? It will probably be a while until your things get here, but I can show you around a little until then.”

  “I’d like that, Your Highness, if I’m not taking you away from anything.” Amory’s expression had a hint of uncertainty to it, and his dark eyes were thoughtful.

  “Not at all. You’re saving me from paperwork. I’m grateful.” He grinned and stood, offering Amory his arm.

  Amory hesitated. “I’m not a girl, Your Highness.”

  “I am well aware of that.”

  Amory laughed and shook his head, but he looped his arm through Philip’s. They garnered a few looks as they walked through the corridors, but he didn’t see any reason to hide Amory. That he asked Amory to live there would be all over the palace by nightfall, all over the city by tomorrow. Servants talked, and for all his propriety, so did Cathal.

  “May I ask you something, Your Highness?” Amory asked when they were away from the more populated corridors.

  “Of course.”

  “Your cousin seemed upset. Was it about me? You said it would be all right for me to stay here with you.” Amory’s voice was quiet with a thread of concern underlying it, and he couldn’t help but be pleased yet again that Amory would be concerned for him already.

  “Cathal worries, but it is all right. It’s rather traditional for princes to keep lovers. Going back generations, princes have moved their lovers, male and female, into the palace. Sometimes more than one at a time if you go back far enough. Sometimes they kept their lovers after they married, sometimes not. A couple never married, but kept concubines
in the palace during their reigns.” His own father kept a lover in the palace for several years—of course, then he married her, so many people had forgotten how they started. Philip had never given thought to keeping a lover, but there was something about Amory. “There are people who will be surprised or upset you’re a man. I’ve kept my preferences private by choice. But that really is all. I’ve learned I can’t please everyone as prince.”

  Amory was quiet, his face thoughtful before he finally nodded. “All right, then.”

  “No second thoughts?” He hoped not. He would let Amory go, but he didn’t want to, not yet.

  “No, Your Highness.”

  The relief washing through him was out of proportion considering he’d known Amory less than a day. He pushed it aside. “Good. Here we are.”

  Amory looked around as Philip ushered him through the door and back into his sitting room. “We’re back in your suite, aren’t we, Your Highness?”

  “Yes.”

  “You want me to share your suite?”

  He tried to put as much reassurance into his expression as he could. “Yes. But you have your own bedchamber. Is this all right?”

  Amory still looked nervous, but he nodded. “Fine.”

  “Then let me show you your bedchamber and the rest of the suite.”

  He had lived in the suite for several years and redecorated it to suit his tastes two years ago. After his parents’ deaths, everyone assumed he would move into their suite, which traditionally belonged to the crown prince, but he liked where he was, and he didn’t like the idea of living in his parents’ rooms so soon after their deaths. So despite tradition and the urging of his uncle, those rooms remained vacant, and he remained in his old suite. He was glad of that decision. He liked bringing Amory to a place that was his.

  Chapter 3

  KNOWING HE was living in the prince’s suite, in a bedchamber separated from the prince’s only by that comfortable sitting room, brought Amory’s new situation into stark clarity. He was officially the prince’s lover, or the prince’s official lover, if such a thing existed, and it seemed it did. Regardless, he was Prince Philip’s lover, and it didn’t seem to matter that the prince hadn’t done more than kiss him. Yet.

  Odd, considering a day ago he hadn’t known the prince and had been kissing another man. Tristan was his oldest friend, his best friend, and the kissing had been nice, but Amory didn’t want anything more with Tristan. He wanted more with a man he just met, and that realization made him nervous.

  And confused, to tell the truth, but there was no denying his attraction to the prince. The little flutters in his stomach every time the prince smiled at him made it more than evident. Then there was the urge to be closer, to kiss more, to touch. Even though he didn’t know the prince at all.

  His new bedchamber was a large room with wide windows that looked out over the same beautiful view of city and coast as the sitting room windows. Also like the sitting room, it was decorated in an elegant but comfortable style—lots of overstuffed cushions and soft fabrics all in warm colors. The whole suite was the same he found as the prince showed him the rest. Not overly ornate or fussy, but cozy, almost hedonistic in its luxury. He didn’t find it difficult to picture himself curled up in one of those chairs with a book or a sketchbook, or snuggling into the large, soft bed to sleep.

  He found it disconcertingly easy to imagine the prince snuggled up with him too. A strange, but curiously exciting, thought.

  The prince stayed close to him as he showed Amory the suite, inciting a prickly awareness all through Amory. He tried to ignore it and concentrate on the tour. The suite had two bedchambers: the one given to Amory and the prince’s on the other side of the sitting room. The prince’s was decorated similarly to Amory’s but was larger and had walls painted a deep red instead of the pale gold of Amory’s bedchamber. The prince showed him the room quickly and then guided him back out with a gentle hand on his back. Amory didn’t think the prince did so because he wanted Amory out of the room. It felt more as if he hurried them out to keep Amory from feeling pressured, or perhaps to avoid temptation. Amory shivered. Probably a good idea.

  Each bedchamber had its own bathing room. There was also a small dining room, a library with floor to ceiling bookshelves and more comfortable-looking chairs, and the prince’s personal study. He wanted to spend days studying the paintings scattered around the suite and the frescoes painted on the ceilings. He supposed he would have the time.

  “That’s all there is of the suite,” the prince told him as they returned to the sitting room.

  “I like it.” The sitting room was the first place in the palace he had felt somewhat at home, and the rest of the suite provoked the same feeling.

  “I’m glad. I want you to be happy here. I’ll show you around the rest of the palace as well.”

  “I don’t want to keep you if you have obligations, Your Highness.” Though he hated to part ways so soon.

  “No obligations that would keep me from giving you at least a quick tour.” The prince smiled, warm and slow, and Amory felt those flutters in his stomach again.

  He hoped he wasn’t blushing. “Thank you, Your Highness.”

  When the prince offered his arm, Amory didn’t hesitate to take it. He liked the connection, and the care the prince took with him. He hadn’t felt anything like it before.

  The palace was emptier than it had been when Amory arrived with his father and Alban. Most of the people involved in the running of the government left the palace at the end of the day, the prince explained, and the army of servants was supposed to be invisible. Without a social function scheduled, the palace would be quieter in the evenings. It made him wonder about the prince living mostly alone in the echoing building since his parents died.

  They walked through the corridors, the prince showing him the different rooms. There were receiving rooms, ballrooms, offices, and parlors. Formal dining rooms of different sizes, a larger palace library, an audience chamber, and the prince’s more public office. A dizzying array of rooms large and small, all decorated far more richly than anything he’d ever seen. There was also more art than he’d ever seen in one place, each room decorated with master sculptures and paintings, frescoes and tapestries. He could have stood for hours in front of so many of the paintings, but there was no time for that on the brief tour.

  The views were as beautiful as the art. When the prince saw how enthralled Amory was by the scene outside the large windows, he tugged Amory up the spiraling stairs to the top of the highest tower. They were breathless and laughing by the time they reached the top, but as the prince led him outside to a windswept parapet, Amory’s laughter died away. The world spread out at his feet in the golden glow of the late afternoon sun. He had never been up so high, had never seen Jumelle from that perspective, and he didn’t think it ever looked so beautiful. The stone buildings with their tile roofs, some with peaks, some towers or turrets, all warm in the sunlight.

  Outside the city walls spread a green countryside of farms, meadows, and woods along the sparkling ribbon of the river. Jumelle’s harbor bustled with activity, ships large and small gliding through water glistening in the sunlight. He itched to capture the glorious sight on paper or canvas, but he doubted he could do it justice. And really, he didn’t want to move from that spot with the prince quiet at his side, his hand over Amory’s on the stone rail.

  They were outside on a terrace overlooking the garden when a servant informed them that Amory’s things had arrived. The prince had brought him outside to see the garden after they came down from the tower, but they made it only as far as the terrace before stopping to watch the beginning of the sunset together. The prince stood beside him, the warmth of his body making Amory aware of how close they were, of everywhere they almost touched.

  They weren’t talking about anything in particular, and then they weren’t talking at all, just watching the sunset paint the sky in rose and gold, standing close together. Amory’s mind spun wit
h the sensation of having the prince so close, with the anticipation of what might happen. His breath came quicker.

  Feeling somehow compelled, he looked up, finding the prince’s eyes on him as well. There was a smoldering heat in the prince’s gaze that mesmerized Amory. He swayed forward, and the prince smiled, a devastating, wicked smile, as he leaned forward too.

  Of course, that was when they were interrupted.

  The prince’s face turned rueful as the servant bowed his way off the terrace. “I guess we should go and make sure all of your things arrived.”

  “I suppose.” His disappointment colored his voice, and Amory’s cheeks heated.

  On the walk back through the quiet halls, the disappointment faded a little. They would have time, there together. He began thinking again about the prince so alone in the palace, except perhaps for the servants. Which seemed both lonely and lacking in privacy, as shown by that ill-timed interruption.

  “Who else lives in the palace, Your Highness?”

  “Other than me and the army of servants? My sister, Elodie, and her ladies. She has four now. They’re good company for her, including Lady Celeste.” The prince shook his head in what looked like good-natured amusement. “Cathal sometimes, though he spends as much time at his family’s house in the city as he does here.”

  “And with Lady Celeste when he is here?” he asked, his voice purposely light and amused, but inside he was hit again with the sense that the prince was so alone, so apart in his palace. And Amory hurt for him. He resolved right there, so quickly it terrified him, that he would make a relationship work with the prince. He had to so he could be there for the prince and care for him, so the prince wouldn’t be alone anymore.

  Back in his new bedchamber, they found two maids already unpacking Amory’s clothing into the wardrobe. Both young women paused in their tasks to curtsy as he and the prince entered the room. One of them, a petite, dark-haired girl, spoke, “Everything was delivered here, Your Highness, sir. We’ve begun unpacking. Also, Your Highness, the princess is asking for you.”