Chapter 1-1
Chapter 1
Prince Amery Llewellen, heir to the throne of Pharr, heard the fanfare as each of his knights arrived at the castle. But he waited for the knock on his chamber door before rousing himself from his pensive stance by the fire. “Come in,” he said, turning as his young page entered. “Well?”
“They’re here, Your Highness.” The boy bowed low before the regent, his long blond-white ponytail sliding over one shoulder. His hair paled against the blue and silver cloak he wore that matched Amery’s ornate coverlet.
Amery frowned to belay the sudden excitement coursing through his veins. His old friends had responded to his summons, as he had expected. As he’d hoped. “All of them?”
Of course, all of them, he chided silently. He’d counted four separate trumpets before the sun set, had he not?
Still, the boy nodded in confirmation. “Yes, Your Highness,” he said. “Sir Giles from the westlands, Sir Berik from the north, Sir Lohden—”
“And Sir Tovin?”
Watch it, Amery warned himself. No one’s to know, and you’ll damage all the two of you have carefully built over the years just because you’re too eager to see him again. You know the servants talk. You’ve heard the whispered rumors when they think you don’t hear. You don’t need to confirm that gossip.
Scowling to cover his emotions, Amery glared at the page and spat, “I’m sure he’s here, as well.”
“He is,” the boy confirmed. Glancing up at the regent, he frowned slightly, as if he bore bad news, then in a rush, he whispered, “They’re in the drawing room, Your Highness. The maids fear there will be words between you and Sir Tovin again, like last time.”
Amery grinned. Last time…how long had it been since he’d seen the knight from the southland? A few months, easily. The last time, Tovin Raimus had come to the castle under the pretense of defense plans for the southern border, but he and Amery had spent more time hidden in the bedroom than the war room. Only the servants don’t know that. All the chambermaids had heard were angry shouts and loud arguments that rang through the halls, a scuffle here, a fistfight there, anything to keep them from suspecting that their regent spent his nights in the arms of his favorite knight.
And admit it, Amery told himself, straightening his coverlet. You like the fights. They turn you on—they turn you BOTH on. It’s so much sweeter when you must kiss and make up.
Everyone in the kingdom knew of the “bad blood” between Prince Amery and Sir Tovin; their fights were legendary, at times ringing through the castle halls and spooking the servants into hiding. The arguments had started early, just after Amery came of an age to assume the throne, and had only grown worse in the years since his father, King Adin, had disappeared among the battles to the north. As long as no one suspected it was all a farce, Amery saw no reason to change the common belief.
“Your Highness?” his page prompted. Amery roused himself from his musing, frowning into the flames that guttered low in the fireplace as he smoothed his hands down the front of his coverlet. “They’re waiting.”
“Right.”
Amery glanced at himself in the battered shield that hung above the fireplace. The shield and the sword displayed beneath it were all that remained of his father; they had been found on the battlefield two years prior, their bearer’s body still not recovered. The man of twenty-three summers who Amery saw reflected back in the shield was a mere shadow of the king—he often wondered how long he’d be able to hold off barbaric invaders his father couldn’t even control. King Adin had often spoken of putting the populace first, a trick Amery hadn’t yet learned. Yes, he loved the castle, with its opulence, its silent halls, its bevy of servants to wait on his every whim. He loved the throne, the position it gave him in others’ eyes, the way it straightened his spine. He’d proven himself a fair ruler, just and kind…‘accessible’ was how the people referred to him, his advisors said.
But his heart burned for one thing, one man, and he’d give up the castle and all its trappings, the throne, the entire land if he had to, if he could, just to make Sir Tovin his.
Running a quick hand through his long, smooth hair, as if a strand of the dark red thicket would dare stray out of place, Amery frowned at himself before turning away. Just have to keep up appearances until tonight, he thought as he followed the page from his chamber. Just until I can get Tovin alone again.
He couldn’t wait.
