by T. J. Klune
“I am not in the mood for your shenanigans!”
Morgan sighed. “Is it really that bad? The King just wants you to be happy. He’s pleased with what Justin has, and you know he thinks of you as family. He wants the same for you.”
“What about you? You’ve been his wizard for his entire reign. And for his father’s. Why don’t you have to do it?”
Morgan shrugged. “Simple. I’m asexual.”
I blinked. “What?”
“Asexual. I don’t find the act of sex appealing. I’d much rather have the emotional connections I do have, not the intimate ones I do without.”
I nodded. “Yep. Sounds good. I’m asexual too. Let’s go announce that right now so this whole night will be over and done with.” I made to march back into the throne room, but Morgan snagged me by the collar and pulled me back in.
“You’re not asexual, Sam.”
“Don’t judge me! You can’t tell me how to live my life! Let me spread my beautiful wings so I can fly.”
“He’s not asexual,” Gary told Morgan. “He has wet dreams and moans dirty things about chest hair.”
“That was one time.” Okay, more like six times.
“More like six times,” Gary said, and I decided we seriously needed to set up some personal boundaries.
“You vile betrayer.”
“Ryan Foxheart naked while lying in a vat of fruit and cream,” Gary said.
“Whoa,” I breathed, because whoa. Then I shook my head. “Dammit.”
“It was way too easy,” Gary said.
“And did you know about that?” I demanded of Morgan.
“No,” Morgan said quietly. “Sam, I would never do that to you. I know that… certain feelings… run deeper than others. I was just as surprised as you. By right, the King does not need to seek my counsel in everything.”
“Pfft,” I scoffed. “Feelings. I don’t have feelings.”
I had so many feelings. None of them were good.
And then Morgan hugged me, which was such a rare and absurd thing that I had no choice but to hug him right back. He said, “I won’t force you, Sam. I told myself a long time ago that nothing for you would ever be forced. But sometimes, for the good of the Kingdom, we must make decisions we do not like. So, we can either walk and hide away in the labs, or you can stand tall and true and show all of those people in there that Sam of Wilds is not a man to be caught and tamed.”
“You eloquent bastard,” I groaned.
SO I did. I fixed a smile on my face and entered the throne room.
The crowds were merry and jovial, people laughing and eating and drinking. The drinking part sounded awesome, and I decided that should be a priority. For the rest of the night.
Until I bumped into a solid wall of men.
“Is this a line for the buffet?” I asked Gary.
“That’s one way of putting it,” he said. “If you’re the buffet.”
“Oh my goodness,” I whispered because he was right. They were all lined up in front of me, patiently waiting for me to address the first in line so they could all get their turns. There had to at least be twenty guys waiting to talk to me.
“So much alcohol is needed in my mouth right now,” I muttered.
“On it,” Gary said, leaving Morgan to act as a chaperone. Apparently, being twenty years old meant nothing. My position required an elder to watch me at all times in courting situations. Which was as stupid as it sounds.
“Um, hi?” I said to the first guy in line, because they were obviously not going to leave me alone and I wanted to get this over with. He was tall and muscular with a scar going from his chin to his ear that I supposed made him look rather dashing. Too bad he was eyeing me like a piece of meat.
“Sam of Wilds,” he purred, taking my hand and kissing it as he bowed. I thought I felt the flash of tongue. “I would be honored if I could be your first… dance.” And then he winked. I guess it was meant to be playful and seductive, but I was pretty sure I was being molested.
“Okay, Captain Bad-Touch,” I said, pulling my hand back. “That’s quite enough of that.”
He stepped forward and started to crowd me, and I rolled my eyes, because really? Really? I smiled sweetly up at him and said, “You do realize that I can turn your dick into so much running pus with just a flick of my wrist, right?” I actually really couldn’t, but he didn’t know that.
His eyes widened, and he took a step back.
“I don’t want to dance with you because you’re kind of rapey,” I said. “It’s the eyes.”
Morgan snorted from somewhere behind me.
Captain Bad-Touch left with an angry look on his face, muttering something about me being an uptight bitch.
Rude.
The second, third, and fourth guys in line all tried to give me presents.
Morgan choked behind me as the third guy handed me his late grandmother’s ashes and said, “I want you to have her because after we get married, it will be the three of us, and I want you to get used to the weight of her since she’ll always be around.”
“You are so epically strange,” I told him.
He grinned at me and told me his grandmother liked to waltz, so she’d be dancing with us too. But then he seemed to get jealous of me and said he really didn’t like it when other people danced with her.
I gave him back his grandmother and said that I didn’t want to come between them, and maybe it was better if they just danced with each other. He nodded, looking relieved.
I made a mental note to find King Anthony later and kick his royal ass.
Gary came back with a bottle of apple wine and pulled me away from the crowd. I liked Gary again. I liked him even more after I slammed back two mugs full of the wine. I told him as much as Tiggy and my parents joined us.
He huffed and said, “You are such a lightweight.”
I laughed because he was the funniest unicorn I knew.
He reminded me he was the only unicorn I knew.
I asked if I could meet his parents, and somehow that led to a ten-minute conversation about the swingers trip his parents were on, and I told him I didn’t want to swing with his parents because I didn’t want to end up being Gary’s stepmother. I also told my parents that if I ever heard of them swinging, I would send them to the dungeons.
Mom told me she wouldn’t even dream of it because she didn’t want to poop in a bucket. This, of course, led to reminiscing about the good old days. Until I got distracted by something shiny.
“A man licked my hand,” I told my mom and dad as the wine proceeded to loosen my lips.
Dad grimaced and said, “That doesn’t sound very comfortable.”
“If you had tried to lick my hand when you courted me, I would have had mamia throw you into a fire,” Mom told him.
“So violent,” I whispered. My parents were hardcore.
“Which one?” Tiggy asked. “I smash him.”
“Everyone I love would kill for me,” I announced loudly.
The men waiting in line winced. I heard a loud bark of laughter above the sounds of the feast and saw the King sitting with Justin and Ryan. Justin was smiling at his father, and Ryan was watching Justin. I was too far away to tell, but it was probably with love and adoration and he totally couldn’t wait to get married to Justin and have his babies, who would end up being the most beautiful creatures to ever exist. They would end up taking over all of Verania and putting all the less beautiful people into camps where they’d be forced to do hard work like chopping down trees and peeling potatoes.
“And I just said all of that out loud, didn’t I?” I asked when I saw my little band of misfits staring at me. They nodded and so I said, “Crap. I don’t even care. Look! I’m good. I have tight pants and great hair. Nothing else matters.” They were completely convinced even as I slurred my words.
“Maybe hold back on the wine for a bit?” Morgan said, taking the third cup away.
“Thank you for telling me about your ase
xuality,” I told him seriously. “You are like my sun and moon and I want you to know we can share everything with each other. Since you told me a secret, I will tell you one. I was making stuff up that first day when I said Flora Bora Slam.”
“You don’t say.”
“Totally off the top of my head. I know it sounded believable, but I can’t go on anymore without telling you I had no idea what I was doing.”
I saw his lips twitch. “Lightweight.”
“I make you smile,” I said in awe. “I’m going to be great at wooing Ry—a man. A man who is not a knight. And who knows I exist and appreciates my qualities and face.”
“You have your work cut out for you,” he assured me, turning me back around and pushing me toward the crowd.
“Yes, yes. Wouldn’t want to disappoint the future Mrs. Sam of Wilds. Hello, boys! Daddy’s back. You may all sigh in relief as one.”
They did not sigh in relief as one. Some looked rather scared.
Being drunk made everything easier.
And I suppose it didn’t hurt that the next guy in line was better than all the ones before. His name was Todd and he was an earl or a duke or something, and he said, “I would ask you to dance, but I don’t know how to dance, so maybe we can just stand near each other and talk awkwardly.”
I gaped at him. “Dude. Way to down sell and keep expectations realistic.”
He shrugged nervously. “It’s better than upselling and tripping on your feet.”
He had big ears that stuck out. His hair was brown and his eyes were brown and his freckles were brown, and I told him all of this because I felt like he should know.
He said he was well aware.
I said, “Now we have to dance.”
The blood drained from his face. “You’re not going to send me away like the others?”
“Do you want me to?”
He gulped. “Maybe? Because awkward talking I can do. What if I accidentally trip and fall and knock you down and then you turn me into a rambunctious tea cozy?”
“Oh my gods,” I said.
“You could!”
“You’re scared of me!”
“Um, yes? A lot of people are scared of you. You’re pretty intimidating.”
I looked at Morgan, who I just knew was dreading what was coming. “I’m a scary badass motherfucker,” I told him proudly.
Morgan sighed. “Yes, yes. Very much so.”
I glanced back at Todd. “I promise I won’t curse you to suffer Black Death or become a rambunctious tea cozy. While you’re stepping on my feet, you can tell me all the stories people tell about me.”
Todd said, “Oh no.”
IT DIDN’T hurt that Gary snuck me more apple wine while Morgan wasn’t looking.
“Just don’t throw up on anyone,” he warned me.
“Sometimes I just want to blow raspberries on your stomach to hear you neigh,” I replied.
“Please don’t tell anyone else that tonight,” he said.
“Not even Captain Bad-Touch?”
“Especially not Captain Bad-Touch.”
“I’m going to go dance,” I whisper-shouted at him.
So, of course, as soon as the King opened the ball with a wave of his hand and the brash clang of horns, I stalked over to him, bowed as low as I could without falling over, and demanded he dance with me.
The King laughed, then removed his outer robe and took my hand, leading me to the dance floor.
“I like the ruffles on your shirt,” I told him. “But that is the only thing I like about you right now.”
He began a waltz and I was nice enough to let him lead. It was close, though.
“You’re mad,” he said with a kind smile.
“I think I just told you that.”
“I want you to be happy.”
“I am happy.” And I was. Mostly.
“Happier,” he said.
“I’m the happiest I’ve been.”
“Are you?”
“Stop. I’ve been drinking. No analyzing. Did you know a man licked my hand because you told him I wanted him to take my flower?”
The King tripped but recovered gracefully, as kings are wont to do. “I can assure you that combination of words never came out of my mouth.” He was turning slightly red.
“He still licked my hand.”
“Who was it?”
“Captain Bad-Touch. I don’t know. Scar on his face. Rapey eyes.”
“Ah. That would Duke Waller of the Outer Banks. A shame, really. He came so highly recommended.”
“I would recommend him for euthanasia,” I said. “And I don’t want to know the criteria you came up with to vet out any less desirables.”
“I did nothing of the sort,” the King said. “I just had your stats and the date and time of the ball written on every tavern bathroom wall within a sixty-mile radius. There was no vetting.”
“Remember that one time I laughed at a joke you told?”
He grinned at me. “I do.”
“This is not going to be like that time.”
He laughed enough for the both of us.
I bit my lip. And then opened my mouth. “Is”—Ryan—“Justin happy?”
The King’s smile softened. “I think so. Love can do that to a man. Just look at them.”
And I did. I didn’t want to, but I did. They were dancing on the other side of the floor and they moved gracefully together. They were of an even height, and I was pretty sure that Justin’s hand was almost touching Ryan’s ass, which I absolutely was not staring at. Ryan had changed out of his armor and wore white trousers and knee-high black boots, almost like he was going riding. His black jerkin stretched tight against his chest and arms. And yes, they did look happy. Mostly. Maybe. I couldn’t quite figure out the look on Ryan’s face.
Ryan must have felt us watching them because he looked over and caught my eye. He frowned again, and I looked away quickly.
“I suppose,” I eventually said.
“He makes Justin happy,” the King said. “And I hope Justin can do the same for him. It’s been a long time since I’ve seen Ryan smile.”
Which, odd. Because I’d seen it a few times. Earlier that night, even. And that morning.
“I still don’t know what that has to do with me,” I said.
The King sighed. “Sam, ever since the day Morgan brought you to the castle, I knew there was something special about you. It had nothing to do with your magic or whatever Morgan thought you would one day be. It had to do with the size of your heart. You have so much to give to people and I think you sometimes hide it behind your wit and words. I want you to find that someone who makes you feel complete, who allows you to let your guard down and just be.”
“I have you,” I said honestly. “And Morgan. And my parents and Tiggy and Gary. What more could I possibly need?”
“Someone to call your own,” he said.
“I have priorities,” I said weakly.
“Do this, and I’ll agree to fund your proposal for more teachers being hired in the slums.”
I narrowed my eyes at him. “You cheater.”
He smiled at me.
The King and I danced on.
AND I did dance with a few of them. The King wanted me to try, and there was no way I’d ever let him down. Not after all he’d done for me and my family.
That didn’t mean I’d let him off the hook so easily.
It was awkward and weird, and I found out I really hated dancing with strangers who were trying to get up in my business, so I filled in the silence with vivid descriptions of how we’d have at least ten kids and that I knew a spell that would allow us to get pregnant so we could take turns just popping out the ass babies. I’m pretty sure a couple of them all but ran by the time we’d finished. I waved after them.
And then Todd came over with his ears and nervousness, sputtering about how he couldn’t even fathom how ass babies would work and I thought, Okay. Okay, why not? I was drunk and reckless and why
the fuck not. I looked good (mostly). I felt good (kind of). Why the fuck not?
I said, “Dance with me.” I waggled my eyebrows at him.
He flushed. “You were dancing with the King.”
“I had to. I needed to yell at him.”
He looked horrified. “You’re going to lose your head!”
I rolled my eyes. “Yeah, because that happens so often around here.”
“I can’t really dance. I told you this. Remember the awkwardness? It’s awkward.”
I shrugged. “Dance with me awkwardly, then.”
Maybe I thought I saw the hint of a smile. And maybe I thought it was a nice smile.
So he bowed in front of me, and I laughed at him.
He took me by the hand and led me to the floor.
From there, he seemed unsure where to put his hands.
Because I liked seeing him blush, I said, “Anywhere.”
He went full-on red, but one hand went to my back and the other gripped my fingers and we moved.
He stepped on my foot.
I said, “Well, then.”
I counted out the waltz.
He followed, staring down at our feet.
The song ended and another began, and I said, “You haven’t run away yet.”
He said, “No, sir.”
He was nineteen. His parents were in the King’s Court. His father was a businessman who owned hotels across Verania. They made lots of money.
He said, “So I can provide for you.” He wouldn’t meet my eyes as he said it.
And I laughed at him again. I told him I didn’t need to be provided for. That I didn’t want to be.
“What do you want?” he asked me curiously.
Ah. Now that was the question.
“Many things,” I said, and he left it at that.
He was a better dancer than he gave himself credit for. Mostly.
But still felt… off. Because it was so nice. Just… nice.
The alcohol buzz was dampening. Things felt a little heavier now.
A third song was about to begin when Todd said, “Shall we—”
“Mind if I cut in?”
And I froze.
Todd flushed again and sputtered, “Sure. Yes. Of course, Knight Commander. My apologies.” He disappeared as if he’d never been there at all.
