Chapter Twenty-Three
Phillip
Phillip tipped his mug of ale against his lips and eyed his two best friends. They thought he didn’t know what stood between them, that he hadn’t known for years. They’d never felt the need to explain themselves to anyone else though, and he respected that.
Alfred shot Chandler the kind of look that made Phillip hide his grin behind his cup. He’d had a long day of meetings and that was before he’d had to hold court in the throne room, listening to the problems of his people.
To say he was exhausted would be an understatement. Yet, as usual, he hadn’t wanted to go back to his empty apartment within the royal wing. Wulfric wasn’t at dinner, and Phillip knew he wouldn’t want to spend just another night sitting with his father by the fire. The kid needed room t
