by T. J. Klune
I knew my parents would have today off, and since it was not yet eleven, they’d be out in the garden, Mom drinking her tea and Dad stretching out in the sun. If anyone had earned it, it was them, so I was happy to see I wasn’t too far off the mark when I went back out into the sunshine.
Well, Mom wasn’t drinking tea, and Dad wasn’t relaxing in the grass. They were both sitting at an iron table glaring at me.
“Dammit,” I muttered. I fixed a big smile on my face and waved at them. “Hey, guys! Fancy meeting you here.”
Mom was not amused. She stood up and stalked toward me. She at least had the decency to check me over first to make sure I wasn’t injured before she injured me by smacking me upside the head. “To be fair,” I told her, “it wasn’t my fault.”
“It never is,” she said, lips in a thin line, dark eyes flashing. I took more after her in looks with dark hair and eyes, but I was caught in between her and Dad in skin color. My mother was olive and my father was snow, and I was somewhere in between, like I’d been in sunlight all my life. But I was tall like him, though I decidedly lacked the bulk he carried around, no matter how hard I tried to build it up.
“Gary said I was skinny and adorable,” I told her because I’d just remembered. “I told him I was muscular and dangerous.”
She rolled her eyes as Dad came to stand beside her. “You are skinny,” she said in that melodious accent of hers, words falling out of her mouth like musical notes. “And you are adorable, but I still would like to wring your neck.”
“Aww,” I said. “I love you too.”
“Not funny.” Dad scowled. “We were worried.”
“You know I can handle myself,” I said, trying to keep any and all hurt out of my voice. They were my parents. They were supposed to worry. “I’m not a little boy anymore.”
“We know,” Dad said. “But that doesn’t matter. We’re going to worry no matter how old you are. Especially when you get yourself captured. Again.”
“Gods,” I marveled. “How fast does news travel around here? This just happened!”
“And a Dark?” Mom asked. “Seriously, Sam? When are you going to learn?”
“Hey! I learned! I learned so hard.”
“Gary and Tiggy all right?” Dad asked, because they were family as much as I was.
I nodded. “With all their pieces attached and everything.”
“You need a haircut,” Mom said, changing the subject and causing me emotional whiplash. But she was right. It was getting to that point where it was starting to curl over the tops of my ears and I looked like I was twelve years old.
“I’ll have it buzzed before I come back down,” I assured them. “Gotta look my best, you know? Speaking of, I need to go crash for a few hours because I am pretty sure I look like death.”
They both got this gleam in their eyes at the same time and I knew I was about to get a face full of sass. “Oh, that’s right,” Mom said with an evil smile. “There’s that thing tonight.”
“For the knights,” Dad said. “For a specific knight.”
“I am going to ask that the King grant me a secession from your parentage,” I warned them both. “He will say yes because he thinks I’m wicked awesome and I’m the future King’s Wizard. And then I will curse you both so hard. You’ll have extra fingers. Coming out of your faces.”
“Make sure you wear that red tunic tonight,” Mom said, ignoring me completely. “It brings out your eyes and skin so well. And those tailored black pants. Shine your boots.”
“And don’t buzz your hair totally,” Dad said. “Leave some length. Makes you look more distinguished.”
“For the feast,” I said, because I refused to believe my parents were attempting to pimp me out.
“Yes,” they both said, “for the feast.” Totally pimping.
“So many curses,” I mumbled. I hugged them both and promised I’d see them later that night. I turned and headed back into the castle, wondering if I’d have enough time to grab something to eat, but deciding against it in favor of sleep.
So there I was: looking like crap with what I’m sure were large bags under my eyes and dirt smearing my face. Grumbling to myself about parents and Morgan and best friends who got snarky and murdered evil wizards to protect me. Yawning so wide that my jaw cracked.
Of course, since I was looking my absolute worst and talking to myself like a crazy person, I ran into the one person I didn’t want to run into. Ever. Well, that’s a lie. I totally wanted to run into him while I looked absolutely amazing and he’d say something like “Hey, Sam, I have this extraordinary fascination with your equipment. Let’s go somewhere and I’ll show you what it feels like to have your balls worshipped.”
But there was no sexy running-into. There was a flail of limbs and a questionably manly squawk as my face collided with a chest undoubtedly built from pieces of my dreams, and a surprised grunt that fell from lips that angels themselves must have had a hand in creating.
Knight Ryan Foxheart. Soon to be Knight Commander Ryan Foxheart. The dreamiest dream to have ever been dreamed. The current holder of all my masturbatory fantasies. (“Oh, who’s a bad knight? You’re a bad knight. You’ve been so bad that I’m going to joust with your butthole.”)
He said in a surprised voice, “Sam.”
So I said, “Meep,” because apparently Knight Delicious Face knew my name and any and all command of the Veranian language was gone at such an impossible thought. It made me have feelings. Massive, throbbing feelings.
“You okay?” he asked, sounding worried, and I thought that maybe if he had one flaw, it was that his voice wasn’t as deep as what someone of his size and stature should have. But then I remembered that it was the most perfect voice I’d ever heard, and he was always so soft and quiet that it didn’t matter to me in the slightest.
And, of course, that’s when I realized my face was still pressed against his chest because he was a single step above where I stood and that he smelled amazing, like sweat and metal and horses and hay and grass and leaves and fires, and I really needed to stop doing that before we had an inappropriate situation on our hands. So, in a move graced with pitch-perfect dignity, I pulled back sharply, slipped on the stairs, and fell onto the stone ground, knocking my head a bit. Because my life couldn’t get any more embarrassing.
“Holy crap,” Ryan said from somewhere above me.
I opened my eyes and things were slightly fuzzy around the edges. But then my world was filled with the most beautiful green eyes to have ever greened. A lock of hair hung down on his forehead, and I knew I must have been rattled because I was giving very serious consideration to reaching up and brushing it away. I mastered control of my faculties just in time to stop my hand from moving, but that desperate action left all my brain function on my arm and away from my mouth. Which is the only explanation for why I said in a breathy whisper, “You are way too pretty to exist in this world with us mere mortals.” I somehow managed to stop myself from calling him Knight Delicious Face. It was close.
And he smiled. Like I had amused him. There were full-on white teeth just inches from my face, and the corners of his eyes crinkled so endearingly that I wanted to wax poetically about his every feature so that he’d smile at me for the rest of our lives. Bards would be singing his praises for centuries by the time I was done with him.
“Think you hit your head,” he said, and I felt his breath on my face. He must have had eggs and coffee for breakfast and there is no reason why that smell should have been as hot as it was. I would never be able to have that combination again without going full mast. He had ruined breakfast for me forever.
And we just stared at each other, faces so close. I was a magical being, so I had no qualms admitting that the moment was magical.
Which is why it ended less than seven seconds later when another voice said, “There you are. I’ve been looking all over for you. What the hell are you doing on the floor?”
I closed my eyes and reminded myse
lf of my place.
Because I had a place.
And it most certainly wasn’t near the level of the man behind Ryan.
Prince Justin descended the stairs.
Prince Justin, the King’s only son.
Prince Justin, the future King for whom I would serve as the King’s Wizard.
Prince Justin, who looked like he was carved from marble by the loving hands of a true artist. All severe lines and planes and muscle and perfectly coifed brown curls that fell ever so elegantly across his head as if they had nothing better to do than make sure Prince Justin looked better than anyone else.
Prince Justin, Ryan Foxheart’s boyfriend.
Prince Justin, who abhorred me.
“Well, look who it is,” Justin said, sounding like he’d just stepped in a pile of dog shit. “Surprise, surprise. Another fine mess you’ve got yourself into, eh, Sam? The stories we hear about your negligence are just astounding.”
I opened my eyes and Ryan was still above me, but the smile was gone, replaced by a frown. I wanted to tell him to bring the eye-crinkles back because they were so nice, but I somehow managed to keep that little tidbit to myself. Justin could have me executed. And if there is one thing I didn’t want, it was to be executed.
“Leave him alone, Justin,” Ryan said. “It was my fault. I wasn’t watching where I was going.”
And that was a big fat lie. Which was awesome.
Ryan pulled himself away, and I wanted to tell him to come back and make Justin leave, but then I thought of my head being chopped off and so I let him go.
I was surprised when he extended a hand down to me and watched me with an earnest expression.
Fuck Justin. This is all I would ever get, so I was going to take it. I reached up and his fingers circled my wrist. His skin was so warm, his palms callused and rough. His grip tightened on me and he pulled, the muscles in his forearm flexing in a way that was stupidly attractive. He pulled me up until I stood before him, and I didn’t think I’d ever been this close to him before. I was terribly amused to see I was taller than him by an inch or two, and the fact that he had to look up at me to meet my eyes would no doubt play a further part in my You’ve Been A Bad Knight scenario as soon as I got to my bed.
I am going to masturbate to you so hard later, I thought while looking at him. I blushed then because I realized that made me super creepy and I didn’t feel sorry about it at all.
It was about that time that I realized at least a minute had passed and we were still standing very close to each other. He hadn’t let go of my wrist, and I swear he was about to say something when Justin coughed sarcastically behind him. I pulled my arm back quickly and took three steps back, putting a respectable distance between us.
“Are you quite finished, Sam?” Justin asked. “You look just awful. Maybe you should consider cleaning yourself up before you show your face again. I don’t want people thinking my Wizard is from the slums.”
I ground my teeth together. “I am from the slums.” I avoided looking at Ryan. I didn’t want to see the pity that was probably on his face. I wasn’t ashamed of where I’d come from. In fact, I was proud of it. And no one, not even Justin, could make me feel like shit because of it.
He arched an eyebrow.
“My lord,” I added.
“Well. I suppose as someone who was plucked from dirt and obscurity and essentially handed everything, you wouldn’t understand the trials and tribulations of royalty.”
“Yes, my lord.” You horse’s ass.
“I think that’s enough,” Ryan said. I glanced quickly at him and that angry frown had returned. Justin had come to stand right next to him. Their fingers were intertwined, and I was embarrassed. Ryan had probably had it with me taking time away from him and the Prince, so I took another step backward. I didn’t want to go to my room. I wanted to go see Gary and bitch and moan and braid his mane and have him tell me that Justin was a giant cockfucker and I was so much prettier than him.
“Sorry,” I muttered. “I’ll just….”
And I turned to leave.
“Sam.”
I stopped and closed my eyes. I was tense as I took a deep breath because that was the second time he’d said my name and it was just awesome, but it made walking away all that much harder, and I wished at that moment that I’d never heard of Ryan Foxheart.
I plastered a fake smile on my face as I turned back around. “Yes?”
He was watching me, so I lowered my eyes and stared at my feet. “Are you going to be there tonight? There’s this… thing. At the feast?”
And what the hell was that? I looked back up at him in surprise. He was staring resolutely at me. Justin was rolling his eyes and looked extraordinarily bored. “Yes?” I said. “Yes. Uh. I sort of have to be. Like. It’s required. Because of the whole. You know. Wizard thing.”
Ryan coughed. “Oh. Okay. Good. Because of the wizard thing. So.”
Wow. Did I sound like an asshole. “Not that I don’t want to go,” I said hurriedly. “I totally do. Want to go. For the feast. And the other stuff. With the promotion? That you got? Oh, and good job, you.” I gave him two thumbs-up, and I just cringed at how awkward I was.
“As enlightening as all of this is,” Justin said, “Ryan and I have plans. This is a big day after all. Not that you knew anything about it seeing as how you can’t even be bothered to return when you’re supposed to. There’s going to be some changes when I become King. Big changes.”
So that was a threat. I gave very serious thought to hexing Justin so that his face melted, but was somehow able to restrain myself. “My apologies, my lord, for taking up your invaluable time.” I bowed again and hurried (read: ran) away.
“AND HE was just so amazing,” I said as I braided Gary’s hair. “Like so selfless and awesome and he smelled like leaves and I think his eyebrows should be declared a treasure of the Kingdom.”
“Oh my gods,” Gary muttered. “This has been going on for forty-seven minutes.”
“Did I tell you he knew my name?”
“Sixteen times.”
“Oh. He said it twice.”
“Holy fuck on a stick.”
“He is.” I sighed.
“What happened to your priorities?”
“I still have them,” I said, weaving a strand of crocus my mother had grown through the braid. They were purple and matched the dye I’d put in before I started braiding. “I just like looking at nice things. And want to touch them with my mouth.”
“You want to lick his balls,” Gary said, just to see me sputter and flush brightly.
“Shut up,” I managed to say, pulling the braid tightly and causing him to wince.
“I don’t see why you don’t just tell him.”
“That I want to lick his balls?” I squeaked.
“Among other things.”
“Um. Because he’s dating the Prince? My future King? That in itself should be reason enough for me to never open my mouth in front of him again.”
“Honey, you’ll never know unless you try,” Gary said quietly. “I have a feeling you’d be surprised by the answers you get.”
I scowled at him. “Look. I know what you’re trying to do. What all of you are trying to do. Okay? I get it. But it’s not funny anymore. He’s with the Prince. Who can offer him things I would never be able to. Justin is a prick, but he’s gorgeous and super rich and has an epic nose and I’m sure his penis is just gargantuan. He’s also going to be the fucking king and I’m a lowly wizard’s apprentice who can’t even stop himself from getting captured every time he’s allowed to go out into the world on his own. And I would never do that to anyone. Hurt them like that. It’s wrong. And you talk like there’s a chance. But there hasn’t ever been one, so I’m going sit here with my funny little dreams that are going to stay dreams, and one day I’ll be over it because I was able to do it on my own.” I was breathing heavily by the time I’d finished and my hands were shaking.
Gary turned his head
and pressed his nose against my cheek. “Oh, sweetheart,” he sighed. “You are so much more than you give yourself credit for. I promise you: you’re destined for great things, because all those wishes on the stars you made will finally come true. And you’ll meet a man who will sweep you off your feet and you won’t even be able to remember Ryan Foxheart.”
“Yeah,” I muttered. I twisted the final braid. “All done.”
“How do I look?” Gary asked, posing obscenely.
“Like the fiercest unicorn who ever lived,” I said honestly.
“You’re too good to me,” Gary said. “Now, I want you to get some sleep. You okay to get to your room?”
I shrugged and looked at my fingers. There was purple dye on the tips.
“You just want to stay here with me?”
I shrugged again because I totally wanted to stay with Gary.
So Gary curled himself around me, and I put my head near his throat. He whispered sweet things in my ear until I drifted off. And when I dreamed, I dreamt of stars.
CHAPTER 4
I’d Swallow Anything for You
“HOT DAMN, boy,” Gary crowed as I entered the throne lobby. “You looking fine.”
And I was. After pouting and bitching to Gary and generally feeling sorry for myself, I decided that was complete and utter bullshit. I was awesome and epic and no one had a right to make me feel like crap, not even Prince Justin. So I decided to go all out.
My hair was too floppy on my head, so I’d sat in front of the mirror and sheared off the sides, buzzing it close to my scalp. I left some length on the top and spiked it up with a soft rubber that I’d bought at Market. By the time I’d finished, my neck looked longer, my cheekbones higher. My eyes brighter. I winked at myself in the mirror and then realized that’s what douchebags did, so I vowed to never do it again.
