by L Ward
∞∞∞
The days rolled by and anxiety plagued Evan with increasing ferocity. He’d managed to avoid an interview thus far and was starting to maybe come round to the idea. Nevertheless, his palms were clammy with nerves on his way to the library in search of Cass on Sunday afternoon. She was in her usual spot in the far-left corner of the upper floor working on a complex-looking herbal recipe.
“Why are you so pale?” she asked, glancing up as he edged around a cramped shelves smelling of passing time and old books.
“Hello to you, too,” Evan sighed, pulling up a chair with a scrape that earned a death glare.
“Seriously, what’s up? You look like crap,” she raised an eyebrow at his fidgeting hands which he quickly hid beneath the table.
Evan stared at her for a several long moments pursing his lips. “If I tell you something will you be calm about it?”
Her pupils sparked with worry. “Depends what it is,” she said.
“I don’t know any specific details, but I believe it when I say Jeremiah’s been hanging around the newsletter office so much because he’s seeing Kristyn.”
Cass’s face reddened. “What do you mean? Who told you this?” she demanded.
Evan debated whether or not to tell her. “Angelika. She saw them together, but don’t blame her she doesn’t want to get involved.”
Cass straightened up and lowered her work. Her expression was unreadable but her eyes pooled with fresh tears. “I had a feeling it might be something like this but I didn’t want to believe it.” She shook her head, biting her bottom lip so hard it bled. Sucking a sharp breath, she began stuffing her things into her bag.
“Don’t do anything hasty, Cass,” he rose at the same time she did.
“I need to know if it’s true,” she hissed through gritted teeth.
Students parted like the Red Sea in her wake of rage; she didn’t stop until she reached the newsletter office, pounding her fist on the door in a shower of sparks. People stared, some glared. No answer, so she forced the door and it was empty. Cass’s chest heaved.
“She might have got it wrong—” Evan tried, heart pounding. Now he wished he’d worded it better.
“Don’t defend him,” she snapped, whirling down a flight of stairs like a damsel fleeing the ball. They found Jeremiah heading to court.
“Hey!” He spotted them and waved, face falling from its smile when he saw the look Cass bore.
“Are you seeing Kristyn?” she asked, radiating contempt like a volcano.
Tension licked the crackling air.
Jeremiah’s face washed with surprise, confusion, then panic. “I have no idea what you’re talking about,” he said calmly.
“So you’re not spending extra time in the office with her?” she pressed. “I didn’t see you two together then, right?”
Evan glanced at her, drowning in surprise. Jeremiah was an open book; his face drained, and his eyes flickered with suppressed guilt. He opened his mouth to argue but only a weird, breathy sound came out. She’d called his bluff and won.
“You disgust me,” said Cass. She wrinkled her nose and stormed off.
“Cass—”
“Goodbye,” she spat and took off before anyone could stop her.
Jeremiah stood rooted to the spot, eyes bottomless pits and mouth a gaping chasm.
“Maybe you should go after her?” Evan suggested after some moments of silence.
“That’ll just make it worse,” he said tightly.
“Could it get any worse? She broke up with you, man,” Evan frowned. “Do you even want her back?”
“Yeah.”
“I’m not getting involved in this crap. Seriously. Go talk to her and maybe you’ll have a chance, but if you’re going to be a dick and keep seeing that other girl at least don’t flaunt her in front of Cass,” Evan said, sick of their crap. “Nobody deserves to be treated like that.”
Jeremiah sighed, shoulders slumping. “I feel like such an ass,” he said.
“You should,” said Evan. He turned on his heel and left, unsure how the situation would change their friendship group.
Chapter 23
The fifteenth arrived in a heartbeat. Evan woke to snow-capped mountains and aromatic baking from the kitchens. The festive season was fast approaching and in honour of the prince’s birthday the university was given a day of independent study. He'd planned a surprise for Nath and hoped to the gods it went without a hitch.
The whole way to the east wing Evan buzzed with nerves. They could refuse him entry or Nath may already have plans. No, he needed to grow a second pair and do this and not be the hapless commoner Will made him out to be.
“I’d like to request an audience with the prince,” he said, feigning confidence and wishing for luck. The guards looked at one another and stepped aside. Well, that was easy.
“If you ask one of the maids, they’ll take you to him,” said the younger of the two in a familiar north-western accent.
Evan grinned and stepped into the true palace feeling a rush of exhilaration. “Excuse me, I’ve got birthday presents for His Highness,” his eyes caught Isabelle’s in the lobby and she smiled warmly.
“Certainly,” she said, eyes twinkling. “Follow me, please.” She led him up the tornado of stairs all the way to Nath’s rooms, smoothed out her skirts and knocked without glancing at the posted guards. “Evan Ravenway to see you,” she called, and left before the door fully opened and Nath appeared wearing a brilliant smile.
“This is a surprise,” he pulled Evan into his embrace and shut the door.
“It’s supposed to be,” he grinned and went straight in for a kiss. “Happy birthday.”
The prince laughed and took him through to his sitting-room. The fireplace crackled, toasting the room in merriment and the smell of forest escapes. An untouched pot of tea glowed a devilish red on the table. “Drink?”
“Ta,” Evan grinned, never one to refuse a good brew. When Nath’s back was turned, he pulled out the gifts and slapped on what he hoped was a winner’s smile, and not a lunatic’s grin. “If you don’t like them, I’ll understand,” he said.
Nath’s face melted in a smile that cut his cheeks deep. “What did I say about giving me gifts?”
“You told me not to buy you anything,” said Evan.
“And what is this?” asked Nath as Evan passed him the two boxes.
“Homemade stuff that you’re either gonna love or hate,” he replied sheepishly. Anxiety crawled all over him like starving bugs. If this went wrong, he’d be humiliated.
Shooting him a sly gaze, Nath opened the first brightly swathed box and wrapped his fingers around one hell of a piece. His cheeks coloured up and he laughed like he held all the world’s joy between his fingers.
“I designed it myself and asked Dad to blow it for your present. He was pretty shocked when I said you of all people like weed,” Evan’s joy was bright as day, watching Nath’s smooth fingers slide up the ten inch dick bong with its bulging glass balls and gleaming tip.
“But, what?” Nath asked, meeting his gaze and twirling his fingers curiously around the opening.
Evan forgot how to talk.
“But what, Evan?”
“I told him you love weed and mentioned our project and he jumped at the chance. He’s never made something for royalty before, and even though it’s a dick, it’s the best dick you’ll ever lay hands on,” said Evan and his cheeks lit up like a Christmas tree.
“The best dick I’ve laid hands on is yours,” said Nath.
Pleasure washed over him in a sunkissed wave alongside the odd satisfaction of knowing Nath enjoyed playing with him more than Will, whose body was carved by master craftsmen while Evan’s ass was at least 40% stuffed-crust pizza. “Maybe I’ll let you stroke me like that if you open your other present,” he breathed.
Curious, Nath tore open the paper and popped the lid. The delicious smell of cocoa beans filled the air reminding Evan of birthday parties and fairytale
kisses.
“Please say you don’t have other plans because I was hoping we could get absolutely wasted and see where the day takes us,” said Evan.
“My original plan was to find you, but you sabotaged that and surprised me instead,” Nath grinned, eyes twinkling.
“Have you eaten?”
“No, you?”
“I’ll send for a cart,” Nath smiled picking up a sliver of paper and jotting on it.
“Good because we need to line ourselves before we crack these open,” said Evan, gesturing to the brownies. “My mum made them. They’re devastating.”
“I’m a bit more of an amateur than you,” Nath reminded him. “But I’ve been told I’m a fast learner.”
“And I'm a good teacher,” Evan’s eyes narrowed, lips twitching a smirk. He watched the spellogram whizz from the ; a knock at the door sent a bolt of curiosity through them both. Nath went to answer it and returned looking excited.
“Happy birthday,” a short, plump woman in her sixties with a long, silver braid and round brown eyes kissed both of Nath’s cheeks and shoved a small box in his hands.
“I wasn’t expecting you to keep the tradition going beyond eighteen,” Nath’s voice lilted with laughter as he opened the box to find a shining golden badge shaped like a cookie with the number 19 emblazoned in the center. He turned to Evan fastening the pin. “She’s given me one every day since my third birthday.”
“He fastened a cookie to his shirt with a strong bonding charm. We have no idea how he managed it. -We gave him a real badge, but he chose the cookie,” she said in a strong Spanish accent.
“Evan, this is my head matron, Beverley, whom I’ve known my whole life. Beverley this is my boyfriend Evan,” he gestured back and forth between them, smile still in place.
“Pleasure to meet you,” she beamed extending her arms and drawing Evan into a grandmotherly hug. When he was released she turned to Nath with raised eyebrows. “He is nicer than the last boyfriend and has kind eyes.” Another round of well-wishes, and she left them alone, eyes lingering curiously on Evan.
“She’s nice,” he said.
“I’m glad she likes you,” said Nath. “She’s like a second mother to me.”
“That’s awesome,” Evan smiled.
Moments later their breakfast trays arrived delivered by Isabelle, an auburn-haired young man and the scored elderly manservant he'd met before.
“Happy Birthday, Your Highness,” they chorused in a wave of curtsies and bows before setting the table.
“Need any help?” Evan asked lightly.
All three servants looked at him like he was crazy.
“That won’t be necessary at all, sir. Enjoy your meal,” said the young man.
Isabelle glanced at Evan, a small smile curling her lips on retreat.
“They’ll be talking about this in the kitchens now. Boyfriend of the prince offering to help the servants,” said Nath, pulling out his chair and sweeping Evan beneath the table. Some scented branches had been thrown on the fire bathing them in the smell of roasted orchard and moon-drenched nights.
“Why is that scandalous?” asked Evan, picking out a glazed kiwi tart.
“You’re one of the few guests who ask for nothing and offer them kindness,” Nath shook his head, still smirking devilishly. “Not many treat them with respect.”
It came as no surprise to Evan, even some of the students treated the servants more like commodities. They weren’t allowed to be abusive toward staff, but the servants never complained, even when Blaise threw half a rank bagel at a passing manservant, splattering him with cottage cheese. “I guess it’s different when you’re not used to being served,” he said.
Breakfast was punctuated by glinting silverware and tart jam. Nath poured them both flutes of champagne. He introduced lord needle to lady vinyl, and music swarmed in melodic murmuration.
“Bubbles with breakfast,” said Evan, raising his flute so the rays of butterscotch reflected all around them like a chamber suspended in dreams. “A toast. Happy nineteenth, Nath.”
The prince raised his flute, and Evan watched the golden bubbles disappear down his throat. “You’ll have to show me how to use this,” said Nath, gesturing to the phallus with an impish grin.
Evan laughed. “My best advice is don’t be scared of it.”
“I plan on smoking from it, not inserting it,” he said wearing a cheeky smile. Sunlight poured through the windows haloing Nath like a fairy tale prince. He barely registered finishing the set-up and handed it over with simple instructions.
Evan’s favourite part was watching his pupils pool into inky pits, lids drooping lazily. He took his turn, eyes locked on Nath, raising his palm to the window; it cracked open, drawing out their smoke. “It’ll still smell,” he said, putting the dick on the table.
“Doesn’t matter,” said Nath.
“Times grow worrisome and what should we do in the face of danger?” He gestured to the bong, glistening in the sunlight.
Evan laughed but something felt off. “What danger?”
A tightness cinched over the prince and he was quiet for some agonising moments. “Did you read the paper this morning?”
“No,” said Evan, wishing he’d at least taken a glance.
Nath’s brows cut a frown; his face blanched. “Riots have broken out along the border and Dad is considering a face-to-face summit on foreign territories.” He sucked a sharp breath and the chamber around him tensed. Noticing Evan’s worry he added, “it’s a formal visitation, not a declaration of war.”
“That’s…” Evan frowned.
“It’s a major political step. Mum and Dad will attend an organised summit in the spring,” he sighed.
He took Nath’s clammy hands in his own, and for the first time Evan saw real fear in his eyes. “Why are you so worried?”
“They’ll be leaving me in charge temporarily while they’re gone,” said Nath.
“And you’ve never been in charge before?” said Evan.
“No, this will be the first time I’m named Regent,” he said, “and to tell you the truth, I am terrified.” He exhaled a strong smell of weed.
“You’re not even a little excited?” said Evan.
Nath’s eyes homed in on his fingertip swirling time and sunlight around the bong tip; each glimmer danced in his pupils. “That depends on how you define excitement.”
Evan smiled with all the warmth of a summer’s day, and twice the sugar of a cherry pie. “You’ll be a fantastic regent. Have you read the reviews for PNT? The people love what you’ve done, Nath.”
“I suppose so,” Nath’s red-rimmed eyes sparkled. “Enough politics,” he cast the conversation aside like a soiled dinner jacket. “Now, we have fun.”
“Let’s crack open those brownies,” said Evan. They were wrapped in charmed paper to prevent spoiling and tied with tiny golden bows. He offered Nath a fat, succulent wedge of chocolate.
“Your mother should apply for a job in the royal kitchens,” said Nath, catching his gaze and slowly licking the chocolatey buttercream frosting from his fingers.
Evan grinned; excitement burst in his belly as he sank his teeth into his second, allowing the velvety smoothness to glaze his tongue. The vegetated flavour of canna butter was barely detectable, overwhelmed by the cocoa and amplified by Nath’s sugary kisses.
Magic dusted the atmosphere with romance, lighter than snowflakes and sweeter than honey.
“How would you like to accompany me to a royal event?” Nath asked curiously, leading him over to the windows overlooking the gardens. The sky was awash with turquoise and springtime green, and the air smelled of morning dewdrops.
“What kind of event?” he asked, surprised.
“A holiday party. It’s a few weeks away yet so plenty of time to decide,” said Nath.
“Christmas party? Awesome. I’m up for it,” Evan grinned, eyes roaming to a stack of novels laying to curl in the sun.
“It’s quite a high society
event; nobles, politicians, and ambassadors will attend,” Nath continued. “It’s held in part of the global magical peace treaty, and is palace tradition. I’d like to take you and show you off to everyone.” His smile could fell an angel.
Evan laughed. “Show me off? to the circus, perhaps.”
Nath rolled his eyes. “There’s also a lot of drinking and drama at these things so don’t be surprised if you catch a few affairs, fights, or closet alcoholics.”
Evan’s smile faltered when echoing voices cut their conversation. Nath shot him a confused look and Evan followed him to the door.
“What’s going on?”
The tall, rugged guards dominated much of the corridor, blocking half their view. Each of the wall torches, usually simmering low and toasty, blazed up the walls in starved tendrils, lapping furiously at the ceiling.
“I’m just here to give him a fucking birthday present!” said Will. He stood, feet apart, face shadowed with rage and eyes the colour of autumn landslides. He spotted Nath and his face switched from murderous to melted butter in a heartbeat. “Happy Birthday! Let’s have a drink.” He held up a bottle of whiskey more expensive than all Evan’s worldly possessions.
“I don’t want anything to do with you, Will,” Nath said coldly. Despite the warmth of the palace the temperature dropped as though night descended.
Will’s face hardened as he lay eyes on Evan, pupils flashing viciously. Understanding scarred his handsome face and he turned his attention back to Nath. “The more the merrier.”
“Thanks,” said Nath, shaking his head. “I’ve had enough trouble from you.”
“Trouble comes in many forms, Nath. I’m sure you’re well acquainted with that,” he slurred, accent thick and rigid as cement.
“Two minutes and you leave,” said Nath sternly eyes rimmed with pink.
Evan retreated back inside; anxiety bubbled in his belly as footsteps echoed behind him too quickly and the door shut with a bang. Will’s presence dwarfed the lobby, his smile moon-bright, eyes bottomless pits. He was unearthly, unreadable and dangerous. Evan glanced nervously to Nath.