He cleared his throat and looked at the horse, petting her neck. “I was going to say they’re comforting. There is something about horses that soothes whatever ails you…makes you feel free when you’re anything but. Like you can ride anywhere and there are no walls to stop you, no places you cannot go. They do not ask for much, but they give much in return.” His fingers stilled on Ursula’s neck as his words replayed in his head. Christ, had he truly verbally assaulted the prince of Evergreen with such foolishness, such frivolous thoughts? “I apologize. I didn’t… That was…”
“That was beautiful. You have a way with words, Cassius. It was as if…as if you experienced what you said.”
Cas’s eyes snapped to the prince’s, which were firmly pointed to his face with an unfamiliar intensity Cassius didn’t understand. He turned away before the prince saw something in his gaze that he did not want him to see. “I worked on a farm once,” he replied.
Prince Merrick nodded in response. “Can I tell you a secret?” he asked as he pulled a carrot from the bag and handed it to Cassius.
“Yes, Your Highness. You can tell me anything you’d like.” Only Cassius did not understand why he would want to.
“Sometimes I wish for exactly what you spoke of…to be able to go wherever I want, whenever I want.” The prince fed one of the carrots to his horse, who gobbled it up. “Even if only to explore town undetected. I know how that must sound, to long for such simple things, but…”
“They are not simple,” Cassius found himself saying. “They are normal things to desire, something I must admit I’ve taken for granted.” He’d never considered what being a prince truly meant. Yes, Merrick would never hunger, would never require necessities Cassius struggled for, but he was bound by different hardships Cassius couldn’t understand and had never taken the time to attempt. “We are both bound, shackled by aspects of our lives that are out of our control.”
Prince Merrick gasped. Cassius hoped, prayed, that he hadn’t offended the prince. “I apologize, Your Highness.” Cas bowed his head. “It was not meant as an insult.”
“Nor was it taken as one.”
They held one another’s gaze. Heat stirred in Cassius’s gut. His pulse beat hard and heavy like a fist punching against his skin. He knew he should look away but could not. He struggled to make sense of this moment, each moment from the very first when the prince asked Cas to meet him. It was as if he’d stepped inside a fairy tale, a story he would make up for Emily and Elizabeth, a make-believe land where he would have something in common with someone like Prince Merrick. Where someone like the prince would look upon him as an equal. That’s what this was, he realized. In this piece of time, they were not prince and servant. They were two men who felt tied to their lives. At any moment, he expected to be roused by Valor and for all this to have been a dream, but Valor did not come, and Cassius didn’t awaken.
A loud neigh came from beside them, Ursula’s breath against their faces startling them both.
And then…then the prince laughed, an honest, joyous sound that vibrated through Cassius’s chest. He knew he shouldn’t, that he should be respectable and professional, but Christ, did he want to laugh. He needed it. So Cassius did, returning the prince’s infectious happiness. Ursula looked upon them as if they’d lost their minds, as if the sanatorium was in their futures, and maybe it was for Cassius, but not now, not in this moment.
And when they calmed down, when the laughter ceased, it was Prince Merrick who spoke first. “It is nice to see you smile. You were melancholy earlier. Are you better now?”
Cassius’s chest tightened. The desire to lie was there—not just to Prince Merrick, but to himself. Still, it was the truth that fell from his tongue. “Yes, Your Highness. I am well now. Thank you.”
Something about what he’d just said turned the corners of the prince’s mouth down, but he recovered quickly. “Very well. I thought maybe we could ride, but the time got away from me. Shall we finish feeding Ursula?”
“Yes, sir,” Cassius replied. When the prince handed Cassius another carrot, their fingers brushed, softly, slowly, and he wished he hadn’t had gloves on so he could feel the prince’s skin. “I hope this was not much trouble for you.”
“It was no trouble, Cassius. I have not enjoyed anything as much since the snowball fight with the children. It is…delightful to speak with you.”
“I…” Cassius opened his mouth but did not know what to say. Before he could untangle his thoughts, Prince Merrick turned to the horse and began feeding her.
Why had the prince said such a thing to him? Why had he brought Cassius out here at all? His sorrow should have no effect on the prince.
“Tell me of your family,” Prince Merrick continued.
“Um…yes, sir. It is just my mother and my sisters Emily and Elizabeth. As you know, we lost my father.”
“I am sorry for your loss,” the prince said, not for the first time. “And you take care of them?” he prompted before pulling the carrot from a stunned Cassius and feeding it to the horse.
“Yes, I am all they have, but I want to care for them. They’re my family. I love them. My sisters…especially Emily, she is my heart.”
Their eyes caught again, and Cassius could have sworn he saw a grin in the prince’s stare. “We have that in common too, then. My family is everything to me, and I love my sister more than anything.”
“I can see that, Your Highness, in the way you spoke with her today.” Suddenly, he remembered Ursula wasn’t the only horse in the stables. Cassius looked around at the other hungry eyes upon them. “Shall we feed the others?” he asked.
“Yes,” Prince Merrick replied. “We shall.”
They made their rounds around the barn then, offering treats to each of the horses. They spoke of nothing serious: Prince Merrick’s day, the horses, Marjorie, and somehow Cassius’s favorite food.
Cassius still did not understand it, but it wasn’t long before he ceased making any attempts to understand and just…experienced the evening and enjoyed it.
It took them much longer to empty the bag than it should have, but eventually they finished, and he knew it was time to go.
“We shall ride soon,” Prince Merrick told him. “If you would like. I don’t make nearly enough time to ride, and I think I would like it…the freedom you spoke of.” Then he smiled, and again, it made Cas’s stomach flip. The familiar ache of desire sat heavy within him.
Cassius’s throat felt dry. “Yes, Your Highness. Whatever you wish.”
The prince’s eyes darted away as if that had been the wrong answer. Cas didn’t know what he’d done wrong, but he yearned to remedy it. “This…tonight, I do not have the words to thank you. You didn’t have to do this, not for me, but you did, and I will forever be grateful.”
“And I did it because I wanted to…for you.”
The words hung heavy in the air. It was as if the prince desired Cas’s friendship, his company, and fucking hell, Cas thought he might want the same from the prince. He enjoyed him—not as a prince, but as a man.
A loud clatter came from outside, then female laughter. Cassius jerked away from the prince as though he’d been too close, as though he’d been doing something he wasn’t supposed to.
“Is that…Isabella?” the prince asked.
Cassius closed his eyes. “Yes, Your Highness.” Valor’s laughter came next. Of course Valor had to bring Princess Marjorie’s maid out to…what? Lie together in the snow? In the barn? “She and Valor are…close.”
There was more giggling, and he thought the prince was attempting to hold back a laugh of his own. “This night has been such a delight.”
Cassius couldn’t help but smile. “Yes, it has, sir.” And then he opened the heavy barn door and said, “After you, Your Highness.”
Prince Merrick paused, looked almost sad, then stepped outside. They managed to avoid Valor and Isabella as they walked back to the castle. Cassius wondered if the prince had caught a chill. He should not h
ave kept him out so late. “Are you cold?” he asked. “You did not bring a hat. You can use mine.” It was likely a foolish thing to offer the prince his handmade hat, but Cassius did not take it back.
“But then you would be cold.” The prince wrinkled his nose.
“That doesn’t matter.”
The wrinkles deepened. “Yes, it does, Cassius,” he replied, and they were quiet the rest of the way to the castle.
“Do you need my assistance in undressing, Your Highness?” he asked. His prick began to fill at the thought, but Cas immediately shut down those desires. But then…then he thought he saw the prince tremble. Could it be?
“No, thank you. Have a good night, Cassius,” the prince replied in a thick voice, and then he was gone.
13
Merrick
As Cassius gripped the steering wheel and glanced once again in the mirror, Merrick attempted to control the flurry of butterflies in his abdomen. He kept his gaze fixed on the newspaper resting in his lap, because more than likely it was an unconscious action on Cassius’s part. It wasn’t as if Cassius fancied men the same way he did, even if Merrick’s imagination wanted to pretend the long glances they’d shared at the stables days ago meant something.
Merrick reasoned that Cassius’s experience with members of the opposite gender was lacking; he’d told Marjorie as much, so more than likely his longer gazes were born of sheer curiosity coupled with reticence. Hopefully Merrick had not overstepped his bounds by sharing too much of himself, but that was the risk the royal family took when they had the ears of their valets or lady maids on a daily basis. Servants were to be trusted with intimate information and were bound by duty to keep a tight lip. Geoffrey unquestionably knew things that could embarrass Merrick—except for the one secret Merrick hadn’t dared let slip.
The one good thing about Merrick’s time in the stables with Cassius that night was that it had somehow broken the ice between them, even if his valet was still attempting to read him and understand where he stood. He hadn’t helped the situation much by confiding in him, but it felt good, and as a result, the distance between them seemed to lessen. Since then, they’d discussed any number of subjects from politics to family affairs, either while dressing or while he was being chauffeured to royal affairs. During business meetings, Merrick would occasionally catch Cassius’s eye across the room as he appeared to be listening intently to the conversation, and then on the car ride back Merrick would sometimes ask his opinion.
“Sir, I have no opinion,” Cassius had said at first.
“Everyone has one,” Merrick had replied. “Please, humor me. I am dying for a conversation with somebody who is a contemporary. As well as somebody I can trust.”
Cassius’s gaze had sprung to the mirror at that declaration, something like surprise registering in his eyes.
Merrick longed to ask him to drop the formalities when they were alone. But that was not only ludicrous, but a dangerous proposition. Had he asked Geoffrey the same, the former valet would’ve been aghast. He might’ve even given him a good tongue-lashing about proper royal etiquette and warned he’d tell the king.
As Cassius passed the gates of Pinewood Castle, Merrick felt relieved to finally have an afternoon to himself, especially after the long-winded committee meeting he had been bound to attend that morning. There was nothing on his schedule until the family’s evening dinner with the chief consul and other members of the government assembly. It was to be a night of casual entertaining, but the conversation always turned to politics when members of the ruling body were in attendance.
“Thank you, Cassius,” Merrick remarked as the valet held the car door open for him. “I won’t need any further assistance until this evening.”
“Are you quite certain, Your Highness?” Cassius asked in a concerned voice.
“Quite,” Merrick replied with a snicker, happy that he was able to offer his valet some free time. “Enjoy your afternoon.”
“Very well, Your Highness,” Cassius replied, though he lingered as if still unsure of the prince’s dismissal.
When Harris cleared his throat near the doorway, Cassius seemed to snap out of his trance, quickly bowed his head, and strode toward the servants’ entrance near the kitchen.
But despite craving a break in his schedule, Merrick was still restless. After reading a variety of trade magazines in the library, his gaze snagged on the forest outside the window. He noticed it had ceased snowing, and the white-covered grounds looked pristine.
He strode to his bedroom, the itch under his skin strong to ride Ursula into the woods. Merrick changed into his riding boots and a warm coat, then reached for his drawing pad.
On his way down, he paused at his sister’s bedroom door, wondering if she’d perhaps feel like a ride, before he remembered she was with their mother’s greenhouse committee this afternoon, planning for the solstice.
He walked out the front door practically undetected and headed toward the stables, where he unwittingly startled the stable hand.
“Forgive me, Your Highness. I was not expecting you,” the man named Edward said, quickly bowing his head.
“No need for that. I should be the one to apologize,” he replied, holding up a hand. “It was a spur-of-the-moment idea. I felt like a ride before dusk closes in.”
“Of course, Your Highness. Ursula has already been fed, and her saddle was just set so I could exercise her in the yard.”
“Perfect,” Merrick replied as he approached Ursula’s stall. She whinnied and snuffled at his outstretched fingers, showing him how happy she was to see her master.
After Edward opened the gate, Merrick made quick use of time as he slid his drawing pad into the side pouch of the saddle, braced his foot in the stirrup, and pulled himself to a sitting position atop his chestnut mare.
“Enjoy, Your Highness,” Edward called after him as Ursula pranced out of the stables.
“Show-off,” Merrick whispered to her as he reached forward to stroke her soft mane.
Ursula walked toward their usual path in the woods, and as he inhaled the cold air into his lungs, he already felt alive. There was nothing quite like being atop a horse—it was as if you could see the whole world from up there.
“There is something about horses that soothes whatever ails you.”
Merrick sighed at the memory.
Just as they were partway inside the woods on the footpath toward the back of the castle, Merrick noticed a lone figure perched on a rock, his head buried in a notepad as his fingers moved over the page. By now, he’d recognize that head of dark hair anywhere. Cassius.
His heart beat unsteadily as they trotted closer. It was as if his thoughts had produced him out of thin air.
Cassius’s head sprang up, a startled look crossing his features. He must’ve been deep in thought, else he would’ve clued in to their approach seconds ago.
As soon as Cassius recognized the rider, he jumped up from his perch and hastily bowed in greeting, his eyes wide and assessing. “Your Highness.”
“I’m sorry if we disturbed you,” Merrick replied, glancing down at the pad of paper Cassius had cast to the side. “Do you also like to draw?”
“Draw?” Cassius responded, his eyebrows knitting together before he looked down at the notebook and snatched it up. “No, sir. I dabble in a bit of writing.”
“As in…a journal?” Merrick inquired, marveling at his valet. He certainly wanted to learn more.
Cassius shook his head, his cheeks coloring. “No, sir. I…I mostly write poetry and short stories.”
Merrick’s heart pitter-pattered. Will wonders never cease?
“Sounds lovely,” Merrick replied as Cassius clutched the book to his chest. “No need to worry. I wouldn’t ask to see any of your poems. I understand how protective one can be of their art. I rarely allow anyone to view my drawings, except those auctioned for charity, of course.” Though at times Merrick felt his talent had gone to waste, his drawings sold for a king’s ransom at
fundraisers, so at least he felt useful.
Relief flooded Cassius’s eyes. “Of course.”
“In fact, that was where I was headed now…to draw at my favorite spot in the forest.”
Cassius glanced around the strapping pine trees as if searching for such a place.
“Would you like to come along for a ride?” Merrick found himself asking as his pulse skittered at his neck. He had promised that night in the stables that they would ride.
“Your Highness?” Cassius’s eyes shone with equal parts interest and trepidation.
Merrick knew it was an inappropriate request and that he should be more careful, but they were alone, and he longed for some companionship.
“There isn’t much daylight left,” Merrick replied, glancing at the dimming sunlight through the trees before holding out his hand. “Climb aboard.”
“I…I shouldn’t.”
Merrick withdrew his hand, feeling immediate regret. Were it not for the valet’s look of disappointment just then, he wouldn’t have persisted. “No pressure. You said you haven’t ridden, and I thought perhaps we might take this opportunity. It would be no fuss, and we’d be back in plenty of time to prepare for our boring dinner tonight.”
Cassius cracked a smile as Merrick hoped he would.
“Very well.”
He slid the notebook inside his coat, and using Merrick’s hand as leverage, he placed his foot in the stirrup and climbed atop Ursula. There wasn’t much more room behind him, but Merrick noticed that Cassius attempted to sit as far back as he could so as not to crowd him.
Still, Merrick could feel his warm thighs as they brushed against him and the tenuous grip of his fingers as they grasped hold of his coat. Merrick thought that if he never felt another man beside him again, he could live in this simple memory of having his shy valet’s touch so very near him. This was unlike the quick and expert hands Cassius used when dressing him, which almost never lingered. This was altogether something different. More…intimate. They were now bound to ride together unless Cassius changed his mind.
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