by Megan Derr
"I'm certain Uncle Bene does plenty more," Jewell said lazily, stretching out like a cat.
"Yes, but it's his house," Addison said, face heating as he remember what he'd glimpsed in the entryway. "Uh—he's home, by the way. He arrived a little while ago. Martha said we probably wouldn't see him 'til morning, however."
Jewell grinned. "I'm not surprised."
Addison shook his head, laughing. "Martha brought me more food than I could ever eat. Hungry?"
"Yes," Jewel replied, and dragged himself from the settee, dropped down into the chair recently vacated by Addison, and began neatly to decimate the contents of the teacart.
Smiling, Addison retrieved his own tea and a small meat pie, then returned to the settee to eat.
Paper crinkled beneath the toe of his shoe, and he glanced down to see he'd stepped on the letter from his parents. He frowned pensively at it, but felt no compulsion to pick it up. Instead he strove to ignore it, and split his attention between eating and watching Jewell.
"You look entirely too awake," he said with a yawn.
"I feel wide awake," Jewell said. "I shall have to doze off more often."
"I'm not certain I could keep up with you if you did," Addison replied.
Jewell smiled at him and licked fruit juice from his fingers. "You've kept up with me so far."
Addison laughed. "That is just because you hold tight and drag me along." He smiled when Jewell started to frown. "That isn't a complaint."
"Well, you can always tell me to stop."
Addison shrugged. "I haven't wanted to."
Jewell chewed on his bottom lip, then said suddenly, "Would you let me drag you onto a ship?"
"Huh?" Addison asked, almost dropping his tea in surprise. "What do you mean?"
"I'm fairly certain Uncle Benedict won't be able to make my parents leave me alone," Jewell said. "Even if he could, he's fought for himself and Rae for a long time; he shouldn't have to start fighting all over again for us, as well. I was thinking I would really run away, take one of my ships and travel or something." He frowned, lost in thought.
Addison hesitated, then said slowly, "I think it would only delay matters, and drag them out. I don't think traveling would be fun if the shadow of your parents was always hanging over you. How did your Uncle and Rae finally manage it?"
"I…don't know," Jewell conceded after a moment. "They live here now, and everyone mostly leaves them in peace. But they're still talked about in the city and at court, the way Uncle Bene 'used to be' before 'Rae sank his jealous claws in' and Uncle Bene suddenly stopped sleeping where his parents told him."
"Oh," Addison said. He hadn't realized Benedict had given in to the orders that Jewell was defying. No wonder he took the matter so seriously. "I don't think you'd stay in one place for very long, and you're much younger."
Jewell nodded, looking morose. "Hence the ship and traveling. But they'd probably hunt me down or something else equally atrocious. Worse, they might use you to get to me." He sighed. "Why do I have to be a prince? I wish I could just stop being one, and be perfectly ordinary."
Personally, Addison didn't think Jewell could ever be ordinary, prince or not. He was too… Jewell. "Wait until morning," he said. "There's no point in deciding anything until we know what you uncle has to say."
"You're right," Jewell conceded reluctantly, clearly impatient, dissatisfied, but resigned. "But, um, just on the chance I do choose to hop a ship and simply go—where would you want to go?"
"Uh—" Addison blinked at that. "Um. I'm content to follow you, Jewell."
Jewell waved the words aside, and stood up, crossing the room to sit next to him on the settee. "I know, but, just for fun. Indulge my curiosity."
"I—I don't know—" Addison said. "This is the furthest I've ever been from home. Until I went to the city with my Uncle and his family, I'd never left my village. I've never seen the ocean, let alone been on a ship. I really wouldn't know where to go, so it doesn't matter to me." He made a face. "Honestly, so long as I never have to attend another ball or supper party, I shall be quite content."
Jewell pouted. "You shall have to attend at least one more ball, so you can dance with me."
Addison made a face. "I'm not certain you want to do that, Jewell. I had only basic instruction and no one ever asked me to dance—" His words were cut off as Jewell pulled him to his feet, and then they were moving around the parlor, slow and awkward at first, Jewell humming some soft melody.
But they got better as they went, and Addison began to see why people actually liked dancing. Jewell was by far more pleasant than the rigid instructor his Uncle had hired. But Jewell made everything better.
Addison smiled as they kept dancing, and actually wondered how different it would be with proper music—
The ominous crash and rattle of a teacart halted the dancing, as Jewell teetered between falling on the floor and practically sitting right down on the cart itself. Addison got hold of him and pulled, sending them both tumbling down hard onto the settee.
They looked at each other, then burst out laughing.
"We shall have to try that again, sometime," Jewell finally said, "with proper music and, uh, proper space."
Addison started laughing again, and could only manage a nod in reply.
Jewell kissed him, then stood up. "Come on, let's go to the library."
"What for?" Addison asked, even as he let Jewell drag him along, out of the parlor and into the Benedict and Rae's small but impressive library.
"To decide where we want to go and what we want to do," Jewell said, letting him go and moving to the nearest bookshelf of appropriate books.
Addison shook his head, amused, but went along gamely. Jewell cast a book aside, turning away before he saw that it was about to fall right off again. He reached out and grabbed it before it could hit the floor, and glanced at it idly before shelving it—only to hesitate as he saw it was a travel journal written by a man who had spent years abroad.
The idea was awfully tempting. Traveling the world to see famous battlegrounds, museums, the ocean, mountains, temples, ruins…
And all with Jewell.
It sounded far too good a dream, a wish, to ever come true. Moving to the nearest chair, he pulled the lap blanket down from where it was draped over the back of the chair. Arranging it over his legs, he opened the book and began to read.
He looked up periodically to listen and respond to the various things Jewell said, smiling at him, occasionally laughing. "Rae will beat you for destroying his library."
"Usually, yes," Jewell replied, then winked. "But I bet tomorrow he'll be in too good a mood to do more than throw a couple of books at my head."
Addison rolled his eyes, and went back to his own book while Jewell resumed muttering and destroying Rae's poor shelves.
What would his family do if he really did run away, flee the country for parts unknown, to return only the gods knew when? Though they were for now regarding his behavior as that of any inexperienced, gullible, impulsive young man, he was only just turned nineteen. If they wanted to drag him home via legal means, they would be fully within their rights. Until he turned twenty-one, he was under the control of his parents.
But they would not spend that sort of money. The letter only confirmed his belief that they were content to wait for him to come crawling back home in humiliated disgrace. Or, if he managed to make money during their travels, he could send some of it home and they'd probably be content to leave him in peace.
Hopefully. He could no longer imagine going home, and falling back into the life that had once been so appealing and now seemed so dull. It had Jewell shone, and Addison wanted so badly to accept all the brilliance and color and life Jewell was showing him.
He jumped as a hand fell on his shoulder, then looked up at Jewell with all the scowl he could muster—not much admittedly. "Yes?"
"You're frowning again," Jewell said, and knelt in front of him, leaning forward to give him a quick, sharp k
iss. "I've warned you about that."
Addison smiled crookedly, and reached out with both hands to comb them through Jewell's disheveled hair, smoothing it back from his face. "Sorry. I was thinking I really wouldn't know what to do if you discarded me. I don't think I could go back to sitting alone on a bench in a deserted corner of the park."
"Ha!" Jewell said. "As if I could ever do that; far more likely that you'll discard me."
"That's silly," Addison said. "Who in their right mind would ever discard you?"
Jewell smiled, slow and sweet, and Addison really could not imagine not seeing that smile every day for the rest of his life. He started to say something along those lines, but the words were drowned out by a sudden yawn.
Laughing, Jewell stood up and tugged Addison to his feet. "Come on, it's bedtime, I think."
"First we fix the books," Addison said around another yawn.
"But—"
"Fix them."
Jewell rolled his eyes, but then smiled and kissed his cheek, and went to restore the shelves to order.
*~*~*
"So they will not give up?" Jewell asked, wilting a bit. Despite everything, he really had hoped that Uncle Bene would be able to effect some positive change. He made a face and stabbed this scrambled eggs. "Well, that is that, then. The Crown will be in port at the end of the month—"
"No good will come from constantly running," Benedict said.
"But—"
"No buts," Benedict said. "I did not run until there was simply no other choice, and even then I was fighting back in my own fashion, and I did it planning to return after a set period. It only worked for a little while, before I had to return to more direct methods of fighting. Trust me when I say that running away does not truly solve anything. If you are going to be a prince with a peasant lover, you have precious few choices, Jewell. One is to run your entire life, and always wonder when they will catch up to you, and what they will try next. They might give up eventually, but probably not. Twenty three years later, my family still accuses me of selfishness and betrayal, and once they almost tried for treason. They have not succeeded because I stood up to them and continue to stand up to them."
Jewell frowned. "I don't want to spend my life running or fighting. I just want to live my life my way. And that was even before I met Addy."
"You're a prince, Jewell—"
"Maybe I don't want to be a prince!" Jewell burst out. "I'm tired of everyone throwing that in my face. I'm a terrible prince. I never say the right things, I never do the right things, I have no manners, no decorum, no tact. I will never take the throne. Everyone who has ever met me can tell you how I managed to offend them on at least one occasion. I hate being a prince, and everyone else hates me being a prince, except that apparently they think I'm fit to be a royal slut."
Rae laughed, startling all of them. "You have great potential as a prince, Highness. Most of your so-called faults will smooth out with age, and the rest can be turned into strengths or at least better controlled. But it's true you will never be on—or anywhere near—the throne."
"So I tell everyone, but no one listens," Jewell said bitterly. "Not that it really matters—I cannot simply stop being a prince."
"What would you do if you weren't a prince?" Rae asked curiously.
Jewell frowned. He'd never really thought upon it—what was the point of dwelling on the impossible? "Travel," he said finally. "Go everywhere, see everything. Addison could write books about it."
"And after you're done traveling?" Benedict asked, exchanging a look with Rae that Jewell didn't understand at all.
"Settle down?" Jewell said. "Addy could keep writing, or go to school, or whatever he likes. I could…open a shop! Or maybe expand my ships and have a proper merchant fleet. That would work. I could have a warehouse and everything. I could send ships all over the world, and deal in wine and silk and everything—"
"All right, all right," Benedict said, laughing. "Do not get so overexcited you upend the china, Jewell. So you want to be a merchant prince instead of a proper prince. You would be good at that, I think."
Jewell's momentary excitement died. "But I'm not a merchant prince, and unfortunately I am a proper prince."
"Jewell—" Addison reached out lightly to touch his shoulder. "We'll figure something out. You would be a good merchant—you're tough and clever and charming and—" He flushed, but smiled. "Well, you would be good at it."
"Thank you," Jewell said, and took Addison's hand, kissing the back of it. "Uh—you don't have to write books and all, if you don't want to."
"No—um—that sounds nice," Addison replied, flushing darker but still smiling at him.
Jewell smiled back.
Rae cleared his throat. "Benedict remains a prince because he is good at it, and despite what his family claims he accomplishes a great deal by way of his title and all that it gives him. You, however, are correct—you make a poor prince, though only because you hate it and waste so much energy avoiding it."
Jewell nodding, stabbing at his eggs again. "So what am I to do?"
"Stop being a prince," Benedict said.
Ha. He wished. "That isn't possible."
"Yes, it is," Rae said, pushing at his spectacles. "Only three times in the history of the royal family have members surrendered their birthrights, but that does mean it has been done three times."
"What—" Jewell couldn't even bring himself to finish the question.
Rae resumed speaking. "As a royal secretary, I am authorized to draw up the necessary paperwork. As a royal prince, Benedict can sign the papers, and I can then notarize them. You must be twenty-one to do it, Highness, but on your twenty-first birthday you can legally sign away your claims to the throne."
Jewell could only stare. "That—that—that's too easy. If that were true, I would have heard or read or something." But that wasn't true, and he knew it. There was no way anyone would have let him come by that knowledge, not as much as he spouted off about hating the face he was royalty.
"It's not easy," Benedict said. "You will not realize how used you were to the privileges of royalty until they are gone. You are accustomed to a certain degree of respect and affluence, Jewell—"
"I do not want simply to be given the same respect as my father and mother," Jewell said. "I'd rather earn my own, and I'm not going to give up just because I'll no longer be spoiled. I don't care about any of that."
Benedict smiled. "I believe you. Very well, then. I did convince your parents to let you cool your heels here with me. They think once you lose interest in Addy, and begin to grow bored trapped in the country, you will return—especially since your twenty-first birthday celebration looms."
Jewell made a face, then rolled his eyes. "What a tragedy I shall miss it."
Rae chuckled.
"Uh—you, um, don't mind us remaining here that long?" Addison suddenly asked, and it looked for a moment as though he were going to ask something else, but in the end he subsided. He seemed to droop a bit, though, and Jewell remembered the letter Addy had received and which he hadn't wanted Jewell to read.
"What about Addy?" Jewell demanded. "Are his parents going to come for him? Did they say anything other than whatever was in that stupid letter?"
Addison flinched, picking up his teaspoon and putting it down again.
"I promised they could write a letter, and I would see it delivered, on the condition that they leave you alone otherwise," Benedict said to Addison. "You are free and clear to do as you like, Addison."
Addison frowned. "That—that easily? But—" He looked at all of them, then down at his tea, fidgeting with the teaspoon again.
Jewell took his hand, removed the teaspoon, and kissed the back of his hand. "Being left alone is what you wanted, Addy. Focus on that. I'm sorry for the rest."
"I—" Addison nodded, and mustered a smile. "No doubt they'll come around when I return from our world travels a world famous writer."
"Precisely," Jewell said, and yanked hi
m close for a sound kiss.
"Jewell!" Addison said, turning the reddest Jewell had seen yet. "Not at the table! Not in front of your uncle and Rae!"
Snickering, Jewell refilled their tea and said, "I've warned you countless times about looking upset. Do not take issue with me when you are the one who continuously fails to heed my warnings."
Addison rolled his eyes, but he was smiling again as he sipped his tea.
Jewell decided he'd have to work extra hard to keep Addison from being upset about the way his parents were behaving—not that keeping Addison distracted was a chore. Once they started traveling, he would not even have to try to distract Addison. The trick then, he thought with fond amusement, would be getting Addison to pay attention to him.
He finally turned back to Rae and Benedict. "So I only have to remain here and avoid my parents until I turn twenty-one?"
"Precisely," Rae said. One corner of his mouth tilted up in amusement, and he drawled, "I'll make certain all is ready for your signature upon the stroke of midnight, Highness."
Jewell replied in perfect, haughty tones, "That will be just the thing, secretary, thank you." He beamed innocently as Rae scowled and Benedict and Addison laughed.
They finished breakfast shortly thereafter, and Benedict and Rae vanished into Rae's study, leaving Jewell and Addison alone in the breakfast room.
Addison, unfortunately, was back to being fretful. "You're frowning again" Jewell admonished. "I'm beginning to think I make you unhappy no matter what I do."
"No!" Addison burst out, looking stricken. "I—Jewell, you make me the happiest I've ever been. It's, uh, just—my parents. And I can't afford to travel—"
Jewell put a finger to his lips. "Stop it. You need to believe it doesn't matter to me. Money is nothing. I have more money than I can spend, and it's never made me happy. You make me happy. I'll gladly throw my fortune away if that is what I must do to keep you. And really, Addy. You're going to be a famous writer. Then you'll have more money than me."