Nudging Fate

by E. J. Russell

  Con paced the terrace, gaze focused absently on the dogwood tree as it morphed from unicorn to phoenix. Why would Gloriana object to Talus’s presence? Was there more to this contest than even Rey suspected?

  The knock on the door, although expected, still startled Con out of his reverie. He sighed. Time to face the day’s trial.

  He strode back inside the suite. “Enter.”

  Brooke opened the door, allowing a troop of brownies in EO livery to enter before she slipped inside herself. As her staff cleared the remains of Con’s breakfast with arcane brownie efficiency (even the teacup Con had inadvertently left under the tree), Brooke beamed at him, her hands clasped at her waist.

  “Good morning, Your Highness. I trust you slept well and are ready for your next adventure.”

  “Yes, thank you.” In answer to the first anyway. His dreams had been remarkably pleasant and full of a certain blond, blue-eyed…. Goddess, Con didn’t even know what realm Andy haled from. With a name like Skuldsson, he had to be Norse. Con had guessed Alfheim, since Andy was as fair as a light elf, but hadn’t received confirmation. Too distracted by the man himself. How foolish could he get?

  “Excellent.” Brooke’s smile grew wider, perhaps even a touch manic. “We’ve had a slight change in plans.”

  “Really?”

  “Yes. Nothing major. Nothing to worry about. The coronation and handfasting will still proceed precisely on time, and you’ll have ample opportunity to select your preferred mate. But rather than the candidate you were expecting—”

  “I wasn’t exactly expecting anybody. Or nobody in particular.”

  Her silver eyes widened. “Really? Didn’t And—That is, I was under the impression that Sir Anders instructed you in the use of all our tech yesterday. Your agenda is on your iPad.”

  “Sorry, I haven’t looked at it.” Drat, I really need to pay attention. But he and Andy had spent most of their time on the e-reader, and when Andy had moved on to the iPad, Con had been too busy watching that expressive face and listening to the masculine music of that voice to heed the actual words.

  “No matter. That’s your prerogative. It’s our job to handle things for you.”

  He smiled wryly. “Royal privilege? Not being required to manage my life?”

  To her credit, she didn’t flinch at the bitterness in his tone. “You’re our client. We’ve been hired to manage this part of your life. We do the same for all our clients. It’s the Enchanted Occasions guarantee.”

  “Ah. Of course. Forgive my rudeness.”

  She chuckled. “Believe me, Your Highness, you have a long way to go to reach the rudeness quotient of some of our other… guests.” She opened the door again to allow the brownies to exit. “But I shouldn’t delay your next date. May I present your companion for the afternoon.”

  She stood aside, and Andy peeked around the doorjamb. “Surprise.”

  Con’s heart bounded in his chest. “Andy. But… how? I thought I had to sit through all the other candidates before I had a chance to be with you again.”

  Andy sidled into the room. “Apparently the Enchanted Occasions powers-that-be decided on a different arrangement.” He shared a glance with Brooke that Con couldn’t interpret. “Their reasons are mysterious. But—” He smiled at Con. “—all to the good, right?”

  Con grinned. “More than good.”

  Brooke backed out the door. “I’ll leave you two together, then. Just use the call app on your phone or iPad when you’re ready for your escort.” She closed the door.

  Con raised his eyebrows. “Escort?”

  Andy chuckled, shaking his head. “You really didn’t look at today’s agenda?”

  “Sorry.” Con gestured to the terrace and the garden beyond. “I was engrossed in a book—several books, in fact.”

  “Too lost in one kind of technology to pay attention to another?”

  Con shrugged sheepishly. “I have to confess—you imparted a lot of information last night. I may not have absorbed it all.” Other than how wonderful you sound… and smell.

  “Just as well, since the agenda changed. Come on. I’ll show you how it works again.” Andy strode past Con—trailing more of that delicious mulled-wine scent—and picked up the iPad from the side table. He glanced at Con reproachfully. “This is exactly where we left it last night.”

  “Guilty. As I said, I’ve ignored it.”

  “Well, this is how it works. Push this button to wake it. Touch any of these icons to bring up an app.” He touched one labeled—obviously enough—Agenda. “See? It has the notification of the change in candidate, but don’t worry.” Andy’s smile wavered. Did he look nervous? “Our destination hasn’t changed. We’re going to the Frost Giants’ rugby scrum, as originally planned.”

  Con groaned. “Goddess, must we? If there’s enough flexibility in the plan to change candidates about, can’t we change the date as well and do something else besides watch a bloody rugby match?”

  Andy’s eyes widened. “But you love rugby.”

  Con winced inwardly. Rey loved rugby. Con couldn’t stand the crowds and the noise. If it was a Frost Giant scrum, the chaos would be tripled. “I’m just not in a rugby kind of mood right now.”

  “Oh. Well. I suppose we could try to arrange something else.” Andy swallowed, his gaze darting to the bedroom door, and his cheeks paled.

  Ah, shite. The last thing he wanted was to give Andy the impression that sex was expected. Even though I wouldn’t mind a little more kissing. “I enjoyed our date last night so much. Just talking. Getting to know one another. Maybe we could do that again?”

  “You want to hang out in the garden again? You’ve been out there all morning.” He blinked, pink staining his cheeks. “Or so I was told.”

  Con grinned. “Gossiping with the hotel staff?”

  Andy returned the grin. “Maybe.”

  “Perhaps we should go somewhere else. Somewhere where we won’t be gossip fodder. Brooke mentioned an escort, so they must be expecting us to leave the resort.”

  “True. Although there are relatively few places other than the Interstices that we can both go right now. After you’re mated, of course, your consort will be able to return to Faerie with you, but I couldn’t pass the portal.”

  “What about Earthside?”

  “Earthside?” Andy’s eyes lit up. “There are some wonderful places not far from the Earthside half of the resort. You’d really want to go someplace with no magic?”

  “Why not? I’m an aitcher, like I told you. I could go there.” Con winced. “Ah. But you can’t. You never told me what realm you’re from.”

  “Oh. Right.” Andy frowned for an instant, shoving his hands in the pockets of his slim gray trousers. Surprise flickered across his face before his gorgeous smile bloomed. “But I have this.” He held out a tiny opal star. “With this interface talisman, we can go Earthside if you want, and I know just the place.”

  “You really are a man of many parts. How much time have you spent Earthside?”

  “Enough to know my way around. Especially in this part of Oregon. We’re only an hour from Portland, and I know it very well.” His gaze shifted away from Con’s face. “A—a friend lives there, and I’ve visited. A lot.”

  “A friend?” Con scowled. “Friend” was frequently a euphemism for a much more intimate relationship. Yet Andy was part of this contest, so he was single.

  Single and vying for the hand of my brother. Oak and thorn, why was Con having such a hard time remembering that critical fact?

  “Yes. A friend.” Andy’s smirk was adorable.

  Con gestured to Andy’s blue velvet jerkin and his own tunic. “Is garb of this nature typical of Portland?”

  Andy wrinkled his nose. “Portland prides itself on its weirdness, but velvet is probably over the top.” He tilted his head, eyeing Con’s leather breeches appreciatively. “Keep the pants and the boots, though. Totally hot.”

  “I’m afraid I don’t have anything less… less fae
than this.”

  Andy grinned. “Don’t worry. I know exactly where to get what you need. Don’t move. I’ll be right back.”

  AFTER zooming up to his room to swap his stupid velvet jerkin for a Henley, Andy raced downstairs and through the hall, dodging the housekeeping brownies. Thank goodness he’d had the interface talisman to preserve his disguise. Con would have needed it to get to Jotunheim, if they’d actually gone to the rugby scrum. Andy didn’t—by blood, he was technically allowed into any of the nine Norse worlds. By birth, reputation, and unexpected gender? Not so much.

  He burst into the Enchanted Occasions suite, causing Brooke to jump back and bring her hands up in attack posture, nails extended. Smith, naturally, barely glanced up from his monitors, a strip of beef jerky hanging out of the corner of his mouth like a cigar.

  “Smith, I need to borrow one of your T-shirts.”

  “Help yourself.” Smith nodded toward the bedroom door—he always bunked in the EO suite instead of a room of his own, since he was on call all the time for tech emergencies. Andy wasn’t sure he ever slept. Full demons didn’t, although they did recharge. As with any aitchers, though, you never knew how abilities would manifest with the DNA combination.

  “Thanks.”

  Andy rushed into the bedroom, Brooke at his heels, and opened the dresser, revealing startlingly neat stacks of precisely folded T-shirts—although the shirts themselves ranged from nearly new to things that were nothing more than collections of holes loosely connected by threads.

  Brooke grabbed his wrist as his hand closed on the perfect shirt. “What are you doing here? The honor guards are waiting to take you to Jotunheim.”

  “Change in plans. The prince doesn’t want to go.”

  “What do you mean he doesn’t want to go? Do you know how hard it was for us to arrange this?”

  He gently disengaged her hand. “Yes, dear. I do. If you recall, I was the one who had to grovel to Heimdall to get the tickets.”

  “But… but the prince loves rugby. He threw some of his most famous tantrums at the Interstitial Cup finals.”

  “Well, maybe that put him off the game. In any case, he doesn’t want to go today, and I’m more than happy to indulge him.” Andy shuddered. Just the thought of the looks of revulsion he’d get from any Norse kin, the way they’d either sidle away or else deliberately turn their backs, was enough to roil his stomach as if he’d drunk the poisoned elixir after all. “And you have to admit, it’s better this way. Usually, nobody in the Nine Worlds will even look at me, let alone speak to me, but after they get a few tankards of fire mead in them, and the referee makes a call they don’t like? You know who’ll take the blame.”

  Tucking the shirt under his arm, he made sure that Smith’s orderly stacks weren’t disarranged, closed the drawer, and tried to edge past Brooke.

  “So what are you going to do instead? Why do you need one of Smith’s T-shirts?”

  “Smith is closest to the prince’s size. We’re going into Portland.”

  “Earthside?” Her voice approached dolphin sonar range. “You can’t—” She blinked at him, the truth obviously hitting her broadside. “That’s actually….”

  “A good thing. Yes, I know. He doesn’t even need the interface, so I can pretend that it’s for me.” He linked arms with her and led her, unresisting, back to the main room. “It’ll be low-key. He likes to read. I’ll take him to Powell’s City of Books. We can walk by the river.” He drummed his fingers on his thigh, thinking. “Hey, it’s Saturday! We can do the Saturday Market. Have dinner in the Pearl. And since it’s my literal backyard, I won’t have to fake familiarity. It won’t be awkward at all.”

  She raised an eyebrow, her mother-of-pearl stud gleaming. “It’s you, Andy. Of course it’ll be awkward. But awkward is part of your charm, so it’ll be fine.”

  He rolled his eyes, then kissed her cheek. “Thank you so much for the ringing endorsement. In case you’ve forgotten, I wouldn’t be in this predicament if not for you.”

  “Yes. I know.” She grinned. “Brilliant, aren’t I?”

  Smith snickered from behind his stand of monitors. “Ping us if you need rescue.”

  “Oh please. A norn at large in Portland with the one true prince of Faerie. What could possibly go wrong?”

  ALTHOUGH Andy was only gone for a few minutes, it seemed like far longer to Con. Which was odd—with his mother trapped in her tower, Rey and Talus busy with their own affairs, and the entire court ignoring him when they weren’t being actively nasty, he was used to spending time on his own. The only time he was guaranteed company was when he was masquerading as Rey, and most of that company he could do without. Once Rey had crossed into manhood, his taste in companions (in Con’s opinion anyway) had plummeted.

  So here he was, pretending to be Rey again, and instead of wishing for alone-time the way he usually did, he was craving company.

  But not just any company. Andy’s company. Which could only end in disaster.

  It’s not over yet, though, so I’ll enjoy it while it lasts. Maybe, if Rey chose Andy as his consort, at least he and Con could be friends. Although a small, petulant voice in his head whined that “friends” wasn’t what he wanted, that “friends” wouldn’t be enough, Con told it to pipe down. It would have to be enough, because that was the most he could hope for.

  “Knock knock.” Andy peeked in the door. “Still up for an Earthside excursion?”

  Con smiled, beckoning him inside. “Absolutely.”

  Andy grinned in return, and when he entered, Con noted that he’d exchanged his jerkin for a soft blue shirt the exact color of his eyes. He held out a bundle of dark cloth. “Here. I borrowed a T-shirt from Smi—the Enchanted Occasions staff. Consider it your Portland disguise.”

  Con took the shirt and shook it out. “Third Eye Blind? What is that? Some kind of psychic disability awareness?”

  Andy laughed. “No. It’s a band. I’ll show you how to download music later, and you can sample some of their songs.”

  Con draped the shirt over the back of a chair and unfastened the buttons on the shoulder of his tunic. As he was about to pull it over his head, he stopped and looked at Andy, whose eyes had gone wide.

  “I’m sorry. I can go in the other room to change if you’d rather.”

  Andy blinked and waved one hand in a go-ahead gesture. “Don’t mind me.”

  Con thankfully stripped off the tunic—he’d had more than his fill of red velvet—and pulled on the dark shirt, its fabric surprisingly soft and… hmmm… fitted.

  He looked down at his chest, which seemed to be far wider when outlined in such clinging fabric. “Isn’t it a bit tight?”

  Andy let out a strangled laugh. “Trust me. That is not a problem.” His cheeks were flushed as he pulled out his phone, poking at the screen with what seemed to Con as remarkable skill. “Oh, good. We’re in luck. Portland weather can be chancy in June, but it’ll be warm enough this afternoon that you’ll be comfortable in the T-shirt. If it turns chilly, we can always buy you a hoodie.”

  “Buy… ah, I don’t have any Earthside currency.”

  Andy patted his hip. “Don’t worry. I’ve got that covered.”

  Con shook his head. “You really are remarkably familiar with everything—the contest, the resort, Earthside. What do you do in your home realm? Run the place?”

  Andy ducked his head, but Con didn’t miss the panic that flashed across his face. “Oh, you know. The usual. Shall we go?”

  Con let Andy lead him through the winding corridors, never once—as far as Con could tell—taking a wrong turn. After they reached the lobby, he marched straight to a tapestry depicting a massive tree—Yggdrasil, perhaps—and twitched it aside to reveal a door so well fitted and unadorned that it almost vanished into the wall.

  Andy opened it just enough to slip through, glancing at Con over his shoulder and giving him a decidedly mischievous grin. Con followed, closing the door carefully behind him.

  The Earth
side lobby was the mirror image of the Interstitial one, but here, instead of an echoing empty marble vault, the room was dotted with humans going about their business. A wedding party passed by, the two grooms looking happy enough to float near the ceiling, like the balloons held by their cheering guests. For an instant, Con wished that Rey could have that kind of joy. Admit it—you wish you could have that kind of joy too. With someone like Andy.

  Con and Andy strolled out the sliding glass doors as if they deserved to be there too, deserved to enjoy themselves with their loved ones.

  Andy started across an expanse of macadam. “So anyway, I thought, since you like books, that we’d—”

  Con grabbed Andy’s hand, lacing their fingers. “Is this all right?”

  Andy swallowed, eyes wide. “Um… sure.” His smile dawned. “In fact, it’s awesome. But I’ll need both hands to drive, you know. Safety first and all that. I don’t want to be the guy who wraps the one true prince of Faerie around a tree.”

  “If it comes to that,” Con said, tugging Andy closer to his side, “the tree would move out of the way.”

  Andy laughed. “Good to know.” With his other hand, he reached into his pocket and pulled out a tiny black box with a silver ring attached. He pressed it, and the lights on a nearby vehicle flashed and it uttered a strange cry, like a beached selkie.

  “Is that our transport?”

  “Mmhmm. A Prius. Thoughtfully provided by the Enchanted Occasions staff.”

  “It sounds like it’s in pain.”

  Andy laughed as he opened the door and gestured for Con to climb in. “Don’t anthropomorphize our ride. It’s just a miracle of Earthside technology.”

  Con folded himself into the seat, not without difficulty. “I see I have a lot to learn.”

  Andy ducked down to peer at Con with his infectious grin. “And when it comes to Portland, I’m just the guy to teach you. How do you feel about Peruvian food?”

  Chapter Seven