by H J Welch
“Hey,” Matty said breathlessly as he opened the car door and dropped into the seat. “Sorry I’m late.”
Cas shook his head. “You’re right on time,” he assured him. “Since we didn’t swap numbers, I wanted to be early.”
“Oh,” said Matty as a little blush crept onto his cheeks. “Well, um, did you want to?”
Cas blinked. “Want to what?” he asked gently.
Matty squirmed, and Cas tried not to think too much about the ass currently wiggling on his leather. “Swap numbers?” Matty elaborated nervously.
There were protocols for this. The palace had to keep a very strict and confidential list of who had any of the princes’ phone numbers. It was a huge security risk.
So naturally, Cas just fished his phone out from his pocket and beamed at Matty. Because while his upstairs brain had been fussing over whether or not Matty could screw him over, his downstairs brain was apparently occupied with a completely different kind of screwing, and wanted to make sure Matty didn’t disappear on him without a trace.
“Sure,” he said. “That makes sense in case anything happens.” In case I want to see you again, he thought to himself. Protocol be damned. This was only for a couple of weeks at most. What could really go wrong?
Within moments they had traded digits, and Matty had an adorable, slightly giddy smile on his face. Cas wanted to keep it there all day. “So, where would you like to start?” Cas asked. He might have had a plan, but he could change it all if Matty had his heart set on something else.
But Matty hummed as he clicked his seatbelt on. “Wherever you like,” he said sweetly. “I’m in your hands.”
Oh. Cas really hoped that might literally be the case. Maybe later.
“Okay, then,” he said with a nod. “Let’s go!”
Matty had arrived in Rosavia at a good time. The weather wasn’t too hot, but the sun was shining gloriously, making everywhere look its best. There were plenty of pop-up stalls out in one of the more touristy areas by the bend in the river Urden, so Cas parked his car in a secure lot he’d used before. His small personal security team were undoubtedly close by, out of sight and making sure he stayed out of harm’s way, but to Cas, it felt like he and Matty were all on their own in a sea of strangers. It was glorious.
He walked with Matty to buy them some breakfast from one of the outdoor markets. Little stalls were lined up along the flowing river selling freshly made food and hand-crafted wares. A sweet and tangy scent filled the air with the snow-topped mountains looming over the city from far in the distance.
“Uh, wow,” Matty said uncertainly, reading the small menu written on a chalkboard hanging from the food truck. “You guys really like rose flavored stuff, huh? What does that even taste like?”
“Have you ever had real Turkish delight?” Cas asked. It was his standard response to that question, which almost all non-Rosavians asked in his experience.
But Matty shook his head. “I’ll just have to try something, won’t I?” he said with a happy shrug.
Cas swallowed down his rush of desire. Fuck. Matty looked a million times better for a decent night’s sleep, and he’d looked good enough yesterday. The T-shirt clung to his surprisingly well-defined shoulders and biceps. Cas longed to run his hands over them, preferably without the T-shirt on.
Cas loved Matty’s positivity and willingness to try something new, so he got them both an iced rose donut each. Matty apologetically asked for a regular coffee, but promised to try some of Cas’s rose tea as well.
“Ooh,” he said after taking a sip as they began walking along the riverbank. “It’s…sort of sweet and floral, but not too much. I like it!”
He beamed at Cas as he handed back the disposable cup. Cas’s plan to do anything to keep him smiling like that was apparently working.
“Actually,” he said, beginning his Official Facts of Rosavia Presentation, which he really hoped Matty didn’t get bored with, “our national food is the blueberry. That’s everywhere all year around. We even have blueberry pizza.”
“No,” said Matty, sounding scandalized.
Cas chuckled. “It’s an acquired taste that some of us refuse to acquire.” He winked at Matty. “Don’t worry, I won’t inflict that on you. You’re lucky it’s rose season, so you can try all the seasonal stuff that isn’t around for the rest of the year.”
Matty licked a bit of icing from his lips. “Lucky me,” he said fondly.
No, lucky me, Cas thought.
“So, is it rose season because they’re blooming or something?” Matty asked.
A warning sounded in Cas’s head, but he ignored it. He wasn’t going to waste the precious time he had with Matty second-guessing everything. Yes, discussing anything about royal life was a risk he hadn’t intended on taking, but fuck it.
“They bloom for longer,” he answered, “but for the next couple of weeks the gardens at the palace are open to the public. Each member of the royal family has a signature rose bred for them, and we have a dedicated cultivation program.” He laughed. “Actually, my brother, Wren-”
The words died in his throat. He’d almost fucking outed himself! He couldn’t tell Matty that Wren had been a real brat when he’d first been put in charge of running the rose program.
Luckily, most people didn’t know that Prince Renford went by Wren at home, especially not Americans. But Cas cursed himself all the same. This lying by omission was getting harder and harder.
“Your brother?” Matty prompted during Cas’s unnaturally long pause.
He shook his head. “My brother thinks flowers are lame,” he saved himself. “But I think they’re wonderful. Would you like to see the gardens?”
And he sure as hell hadn’t intended on inviting Matty to his back yard. It was like his brain wasn’t fully connected to his mouth right now. But when Matty smiled and nodded in delight, there was no way Cas was taking it back. He just had to hope no one recognized him in a casual button-down and jeans, especially if he kept his sunglasses on.
Cas decided to take Matty the scenic route to the gardens, so they continued strolling down the path by the river, past more stalls, street artists, and joggers. Cas pointed out several architectural features, such as the old Cherwell Theater and modern mayoral head offices. They visited one of Alpina’s free museums to take a stroll through an exhibition on the city’s medieval era, then took photos of Matty in front of the large peregrine falcon sculpture near Rosavia’s parliament.
While Matty drank in the sights, Cas drank in Matty. His happiness and excitement made Cas deeply content. It was such a pure and simple feeling.
They jumped on one of the many tram lines that crisscrossed through the city, hopping off close to the palace. It was strange for Cas to approach his home this way – not via the private entrance on the other side – and he had to hurry Matty past more than one souvenir shop that was displaying mugs and dish towels with his damn face on them.
Luckily, Matty was easy enough to distract with food. Cas got them hot cheesy pastries and cold fizzy blueberry soda from a café, which they enjoyed as they wandered down the lane that led to the entrance of the gardens.
As Cas paid for the tickets, he saw Matty wince. Cas paused after he stepped away from the line. “We don’t have to go in if you don’t want to,” he said, an unpleasant sickly sensation snaking through his guts. He’d thought that Matty was really eager to see the roses.
Matty gave him a sad half-smile. “It’s just…I feel bad. You’re paying for everything. I know you said to let you spoil me once, but I still feel a bit like a freeloader.”
“Oh, no,” Cas said earnestly. He was glad he’d finished his simple lunch already and thrown the trash away, so he had a free hand to reach out and squeeze Matty’s arm. “It’s totally fine, I promise. It’s my treat, remember?”
Matty sighed and smiled up at him, but he still seemed reluctant. “You’re very kind,” he said quietly.
Damn. Has Cas misread this? Matty had mentio
ned he didn’t have much money, so Cas thought he’d be excited for Cas to pay for everything. But Cas getting their tickets seemed to have been a step too far, and he wasn’t sure why.
Cas licked his lips. He wasn’t doing this as a favor or anything. “Matty,” he said in what he hoped was a reassuring but also firm tone. “I’m having a wonderful time. Please don’t worry. I don’t mean to be a dick, but I really do come from a wealthy family. And, uh, I have a good job,” he tacked on the end.
He didn’t want Matty thinking he was a lazy trust fund brat. It was just difficult to get a paying job when you were second in line to the throne and spent all your time keeping the royal family and, in some ways, the whole country together. “I just want you to have a fun day.”
Matty finally seem to relax. “And I am,” he promised with a big smile. “I’m sorry. I shouldn’t be rude. It’s just…okay, my ex-boyfriend used to gloat a lot that without him we wouldn’t be able to do anything fancy, because I spend all my money on rent. I didn’t want to talk about him while we’re having a lovely day, but then I got all bummed out and spoiled it anyway, but I didn’t want you thinking it was because I wasn’t having fun-”
“Hey, hey,” Cas said firmly but kindly, smiling at Matty as he gave Matty’s arm another squeeze before letting him go. “Not rude at all. Humble. Which is very sweet.” Then he bumped their shoulders together, hoping to lighten the mood. “But shut up and let me be your sugar daddy for the day, okay?”
Matty burst out laughing. “All right, all right,” he said, throwing his hands up in defeat. “Just never say ‘sugar daddy’ again, please?”
Cas winked, hugely relieved to have dispelled the tension between them. Part of him was disappointed that Matty had been worrying about money, but the other part of him loved that Matty was so conscientious.
Definitely not a gold digger.
But as much as Cas was smiling, an ugly dark feeling curled around his heart thinking about Matty’s shitty ex. It was mixed with a more pleasant feeling as he realized that Matty was indeed seeing today as a kind of date, just like Cas was, but fuck that guy. Who got off on gloating like that and making Matty feel small?
Cas wanted Matty to feel glorious. Special. It had only been twenty-four hours, but Cas was drawn to this sweet, caring American more than anybody he’d known before.
They strolled around the garden paths in the beaming sunshine, inspecting the dozens and dozens of different kinds of roses. Some were large, some were little more than tiny buds, and they came in every color of the rainbow. In fact, Cas knew that for Alpina Pride they dyed white roses in rainbow colors, but so far, they hadn’t been able to grow them naturally. And Cas had never been able to experience Pride in the thick of it, only observing from afar.
Cas rattled off his silly trivia that his brothers usually teased him mercilessly for. Matty listened raptly, asking questions and genuinely seeming to care.
“Oh, look,” he said excitedly. He was pointing to a specific rose up ahead, and dashed ahead to get a closer look.
Cas’s stomach did a funny little flip when he realized which particular rose had seized Matty’s attention.
It was his rose.
All members of the royal family were bestowed their own, distinct rose when they were born or married into the family. Their corsages at formal events and in official portraits were always that particular rose. And the one Matty was currently inspecting was the one Cas had known his entire life.
“I’ve never seen a blue rose before.” Matty exhaled in awe, touching the petals with extreme care. They started at the base as a light sky blue and bled into a bright royal blue that Cas had to admit he loved. Not everyone felt a kinship with their assigned rose, but Cas had always adored his.
And now Matty had singled it out over hundreds of others as the one he appeared to admire most. It was like he was giving Cas approval without even knowing it. But that was stupid, wasn’t it? It was just a rose. Still, Cas wished he could clip one off the bush and give it to Matty, but he didn’t want to risk drawing any attention to them.
“Our breeding program is the envy of many countries,” he said faintly, using facts to distract him from his feelings. “We have some of the foremost experts in horticulture in the world here.”
Matty gave the blue roses one last look with a sigh. “They’re really amazing,” he said. Then he glanced up and saw a refreshment stand several feet away, and his eyes lit up like a small child’s. “Oh! Do you want ice cream? My treat,” he insisted with an impish grin.
Cas laughed. “Sure. Surprise me.” Oh lord, he was already feeling hopeless. Was there anything he wouldn’t do to make Matty happy?
They enjoyed their rose and chocolate cones as they entered the greenhouse to see some of the other plant life the royal gardens had to offer. Cas distracted himself from the delectable sight of Matty’s tongue licking up the creamy substance by babbling about flower shows from the past and the great scandal of ’98 when two entrants had arrived with the exact same specimen, and there had to be a full investigation into who had stolen from who.
“It turned out they’d both been conned by the same guy selling off clippings and claiming they were exclusive,” Cas said, rolling his eyes. “We get all the drama here, you see.”
Matty bit his lip and grinned. “Sounds very exciting,” he said teasingly.
Cas bumped their shoulders again. It was getting easier and easier to initiate these little touches between them. So natural and comfortable. “Not to a New Yorker, I bet. But it’s kind of you to say.”
Matty huffed. “I don’t live in the city. Queens is more of a suburb where I just happened to grow up. I can’t say I love it. But it’s home. It’s where my family is. Well, the family that counts.” He scrunched up his nose but didn’t elaborate, then caught a stray drip of ice cream with his mouth before it reached his fingers. Cas cleared his throat and tried to adjust himself in his pants without being too obvious. “I’ve always wanted to live somewhere else for a while,” Matty continued, “just to see if I like it. But I doubt that’ll happen now.”
“Why not?” Cas asked. They were walking around the edge of a lush lily pond filled with colorful koi carp.
Matty shrugged and smiled sadly. “Money,” he said with a laugh.
Cas was going to open his mouth to say something, but then he didn’t know what. He’d never had to worry about money in his whole life. Logically, he understood that some people struggled, but it didn’t seem fair that Matty should be held back from anything just because he didn’t have the finances for it. In fact, it was down-right heartbreaking, and Cas felt like an ass for not understanding this earlier.
Matty might not see Cas paying for everything as a treat. He might see it as a slap in the face, a reminder of what he didn’t have.
It was a stark wake-up call, reminding Cas that he was only playing at being a commoner. When Matty flew back to America, Cas would go back to the palace, and never want for anything.
The realization left him feeling pretty hollow.
I wanted ‘real life,’ he reminded himself. This was it.
So instead he opened his mouth to say something vague but encouraging rather than nothing, perhaps suggesting to Matty that he never knew where life might take him. But then they rounded a corner of thick, lush wisteria and almost bumped right into her.
Ida von Tarr. In the flesh.
Cas couldn’t say he was particularly fond of any members of the press, especially not when they devoted their lives to snooping around the palace, just waiting to expose any little hiccup or hint of a scandal. But this harpy was one of the worst, resorting to flat out inventing lies about Cas and his brothers when she got too bored.
“Klaus, you idiot,” she was snarling at the guy towering over her. He had a camera with an enormous telephoto lens resting in his meaty hands, frowning as she smacked his shoulder. She had long red nails like bloody talons, and horn-rimmed tortoise shell sunglasses resting on the end
of her pointy nose. Dirty-blonde hair was scraped back into such a severe ponytail, Cas had to wonder if it wasn’t also giving her some sort of facelift. Or he would wonder if he wasn’t so busy suddenly panicking. “What do you mean we missed them? They haven’t been seen together in Rosavia in years – you’re telling me your camera can’t find them?”
She jabbed her hand toward the palace through the windows. They had a damned good view of the front entrance from here. Who had they been hoping to see? Maybe Jules and Dante, seeing as Dante was arriving from Thedes today? Damn von Tarr. Cas felt a flush of anger through his panic. She was probably trying to start up the dating rumors between the two princes again.
“Sorry, boss,” the huge man, Klaus, mumbled. “If we’d gone to the train station-”
“We’d have the same boring shots as everyone else,” von Tarr snapped, throwing up her red-taloned hands. “They were supposed to be here.”
Yep. Definitely Jules and Dante. But they seemed to have escaped her clutches, for now. Whereas Cas…
He appeared to have totally frozen. This was bad, really bad! Von Tarr might have been hoping to sneak up on Jules, and instead Cas had walked right into her by accident with an entirely different scoop if she cared to look hard enough.
He realized Matty was staring at him. “Uhh…” Cas said, scrambling to think of anything to say.
“You okay?” Matty asked, clearly concerned. He placed a hand on Cas’s arm, warm and comforting through the cotton of his shirt. It grounded Cas. But he still had no idea how to get away from the terrible royal correspondent without alarming Matty. But von Tarr couldn’t see him like this! All she had to do was turn around and they’d be face-to-face…
“Excuse me, sir,” a blissfully familiar voice said. “I think you dropped this.”
Both Cas and Matty turned to see the pint-sized Valentina offering Cas a pamphlet map of the gardens.
Matty frowned. “I don’t think-” he began.
