by Sam Argent
“People keep telling me,” Turren said. “I wish this would all end. I want to spend peaceful afternoons with you and not worry about assassins. Thank you for saving my life.”
“Honestly, I did it because I was pissed off. That bastard had a lot of nerve threatening me on my own land.”
Turren laughed. “You shouldn’t say things like that because it makes you sound like your brothers.”
“It’s not foolishness if your opponent is inadequately qualified to face you.”
“An opponent I did weaken just a little.”
“So say the losers in battle.” Sebastian tsked.
“Their blades were poisoned.”
“It’s your fault for being cut by such amateurs.” Getting more comfortable, Sebastian fluffed the pillows and spread out on them.
“Are you tired?” Turren asked.
“No,” Sebastian said. “You said that you’re feeling stressed from all your adventures, and I’m not having a great day myself.”
“Except you didn’t tell me why.”
“Shush and listen, or I’ll change my mind,” Sebastian threatened. Turren remained quiet so Sebastian continued. “Remember how you said that you needed my permission to perform a certain task? You have it for tonight.”
Turren blinked and scooted closer to the mirror. “Excuse me?”
“You have my permission to do what you want.”
Turren’s face scrunched up. “Are you mocking me?”
“Is that a no?” Sebastian asked. “I could just go to sleep.”
“No!” Turren shouted, and he looked over his shoulder to make sure no one outside his room had heard. “No,” he whispered. He licked his lips and slowly unbuttoned his pants. When Sebastian made no protest, he slid them down to his knees. “May I ask why you’re suddenly letting me do this?”
“I think I like obedience. You agreed to enchanting our mirrors, and you were very cooperative tonight. It’s nice,” Sebastian said as he moved his hand beneath his cloak and into his pants. Sighing, Sebastian met skin and grabbed his cock.
“Oh Gods, I can’t see but oh Gods, you’re touching yourself.” Turren pulled down his underwear. Taking himself in hand without cloth barring Sebastian’s view, he stroked himself firmly.
Sebastian watched and gripped himself harder. He should have thought of oil, but he didn’t want to move. Maybe he would remember next time. He frowned. This was a whim and there is no reason to repeat it, he thought as Turren moaned his name. Sebastian admitted he was thinking too much and concentrated on the flesh in his hand that grew slick with his seed. That’s better, he thought as the moisture made it easier to move his hand faster. He was too hard to move freely with his pants in the way, so Sebastian took his cock fully out.
“Fuck!” Turren said from the other side of the mirror.
Sebastian smiled. With his cock free of his cloak, he thrust into his gloved hand, more seed coming out to Turren’s unobstructed view. Turren’s grunting deepened, and Sebastian looked at the mirror. Turren no longer lay back but faced Sebastian with his legs spread and was rubbing his cock from base to tip. His blue eyes glowed, and Sebastian had no doubt that his eyes were doing the same. Pleasure built in his balls, and Sebastian spilled into his hand.
“Bastian, Bastian.” Turren’s movements became frantic, and he didn’t blink as he found his own release, keeping Sebastian in his vision the whole time.
Sebastian continued stroking himself, but the mirror suddenly went dark as the connection was broken. Nothing magical had ended it, so Sebastian didn’t know what had happened. Shrugging, he got up and found cloths to clean himself with. As he got comfortable in the bed again, the mirror’s connection reactivated and a blushing Turren reappeared. Sebastian narrowed his eyes suspiciously. “Did you get your mirror dirty?”
Turren coughed. “Maybe just a little, but I cleaned it.”
Sebastian stretched his arms out. “I’m sleepy now, so I’m going to bed.”
“Your cock is very nice, and I bid you good night.”
“Good night, you pervert,” Sebastian said before ending the connection. He closed his eyes and sighed. “I’m an idiot.”
CHAPTER 19
SEBASTIAN SLEPT through most of the morning but finally got out of bed. “I’m getting too used to these luxuries,” he muttered as he ran the bath. Hot, bubbly water scented with cinnamon filled the tub, and Sebastian inhaled deeply. “Why does everything have to be so damn perfect?” Going back home is not going to be pleasant. His cloak opened like a tent around him, and Sebastian undressed with his body still covered by the cloth. When he stepped into the bath, the cloak moved with him, settling over his head as a sort of dome. As Sebastian bathed under magelight he had summoned under the hood, he thought this was one thing he wouldn’t miss about being away from home.
KING HARRIS and Queen Anne were accepting petitioners, and most of the halls were empty except for guards. Lord Orwell hadn’t summoned him, so Sebastian wandered around, checking out the architecture and seeing what had changed since his childhood. There were a few extra rooms here and there, but everything mostly looked the same. Out of the corner of his eye, Sebastian saw something move quickly from alcove to alcove. The guards didn’t seem to notice, but the figure moved toward him.
“It’s me,” Turren’s voice whispered from the mirror in Sebastian’s pocket. Across the way, Turren moved from window to window as the sun cast its beams inside, and the prince blended with them as if he was part of the light. Three windows away, to two, and then only one divided them while the guards noticed nothing. Brighter light than before shined through the window, and a cloaked Turren wrapped himself around Sebastian. “Walk backward until I tell you to stop,” Turren whispered.
His warm hands encircled Sebastian’s waist, and they walked toward a hallway filled with more windows.
“Stop,” Turren said as they reached the first window.
Blinding light hit them, but Turren leaned forward and his hood blocked Sebastian’s view. He gently kissed Sebastian. “Now we can walk again.” They shuffled along until Sebastian’s back pressed into a deep corner behind a suit of arms.
“I’m impressed. If you ever consider burglary, it wou—” Sebastian’s words were cut off by Turren’s tongue invading his mouth without warning. Hands grasped his hips, and Turren groaned as their groins met. There was little room to rub them together because Turren allowed no space between them to move. One of Turren’s hands turned Sebastian’s chin so his mouth was fully open for him. I think I like it when he’s sneaky, Sebastian thought as he wrapped his arms around Turren’s neck. He slid his fingers through Turren’s hair, and Turren moaned. A little air seeped into his mouth, and Sebastian took a quick breath. Since petting Turren allowed him to breathe, Sebastian kept doing it, not surprised that even Turren’s hair was fluffy like a puppy’s.
“HOW DID you know he was using that technique?” Captain Pembrost asked the queen while the two young men made out in the full-length mirror.
“I became suspicious after Turren disappeared into Alchone’s room. There were too many guards not to see him,” Queen Anne said.
Frederick shook his head. “Turren can’t memorize a poison-tester spell correctly, but he can calculate the distance and time needed for a sunlight-cloaking spell without having ever been taught. I feel like he’s mocking his studies.”
“It was a good thing you found out that Lord Piadas showing Lord Orwell those rare smoked meats was the prince’s doing. He would have snuck off again with no protection,” Captain Pembrost said.
“All I have to do is put a tracker on that other boy, and we won’t have to worry about finding Turren,” Queen Anne said.
Captain Pembrost laughed. “Good luck with that. The moment you touch him he’ll sense a plot.”
Queen Anne grinned. “Challenge accepted.”
SEBASTIAN STOPPED in the hall. Several footsteps were heading in his direction, and he wasn’t in a people mood. He needed t
ime to think about what he was doing with the prince, and gods, what was that racket? Two single files of guards entered the hall Sebastian was in, and a group separated in front of him, blocking his way. The second row of guards suddenly broke ranks and an opening appeared. Queen Anne stepped through it, and she grabbed Sebastian by the elbow.
“Let’s have a chat, my dear boy.”
Unable to remove her strong grip or escape that many guards, Sebastian had no choice but to follow her into a bright sitting room. She directed him toward a small table, and they sat on opposite ends. A guard stepped forward and placed a metal tray between them. On it was a covered dish, two plates, and silverware.
“What is this?” Sebastian asked.
Queen Anne lifted the metal dome and revealed a round, frosted cake. “This is deliciousness.”
“You forced me in here because you want to eat cake?”
“Sebastian, I know you’re a grumpy person, but what kind of inhuman creature doesn’t like cake?” the queen asked. “I’ve met mass murderers who would have killed for a slice.”
“Brum brum brum,” Sebastian said in imitation of a jester’s horn.
“No sense of humor and you hate cake.” Queen Anne shook her head. “I’m starting to become disappointed in my son’s taste.”
“I do like cake,” Sebastian said. “I hate being forced into conversations with people I hardly know.”
“I’ve heard you say the same thing about adventures, and yet you keep finding yourself in them. There has to be a little denial at work.”
“Prince Turren’s, yes,” Sebastian said.
The queen picked up a large knife and placed the edge over a section that would divide the cake unevenly. “What?” she asked while still holding the knife. “You complained about my company and I see no reason to be fair.” She sliced into it and dropped the much smaller piece onto Sebastian’s plate. “If you keep frowning, I’ll simply eat the whole thing.”
Sebastian sighed and accepted his piece, moving it farther away from Queen Anne in case she meant it. He grabbed his fork and plucked out a mouthful of cake that briefly held its structure before melting in his mouth. “This is actually very good,” he said.
“Will you put up a fuss the next time I approach you with cake?”
“Of course,” Sebastian said. “It’s the principle of the matter.”
“I’m happy that Frederick’s report about you being troublesome turned out to be true,” Queen Anne said.
“And why is that?” Sebastian asked.
“Because I don’t feel guilty about this.” The Queen reached into her pocket and withdrew a small mirror framed with carved oak.
Sebastian reached inside his cloak, but the pocket holding his mirror was empty. “Pickpocketing is not a royal habit. Give me back the gift that you stole.”
“I will in a bit,” the queen promised. “First, tell what naughty thing you did to block mine and Frederick’s magic.”
“An acquaintance spell. Now give it back to me.”
Sliding her cake out of the way, Queen Anne leaned forward and smiled. “That was more than acquaintanceship I saw in my halls, boy.”
“You can send your son off to Anerith with little supervision, but you fools watch every move he makes concerning me. I am not an enemy.” Sebastian held out his hand for the mirror. The queen stared at him for several moments, but gave it back without further comment. Sebastian wouldn’t admit he was happy to get back his only private connection to Turren. “I thought you had a privileged background. I never heard anything in your past about stealing.”
Queen Anne laughed. “That’s not for putting food on the table. I learned to swipe things during battle.”
“Huh?”
“Picture you’re in a fight with a powerful wizard. Arrows are going all over the place, and the last thing you need is for your opponent to whip out a talisman and skew the odds in their favor. So, I do a little trash talking, insult their parents, and get closer than they should really let me. Then the other wizard is going through his pockets.” Queen Anne demonstrated by going through her own and pulling them out. “But nothing is there. The surprise usually gives me a second to temporarily deal with them… or permanently if I have no choice.” She leaned back in her chair and sighed. “I’ve won far more matches than I care to admit by lifting whatever was in my opponent’s pockets.”
“Well, a word of advice,” Sebastian said he placed the mirror back. “I wouldn’t steal Turren’s unless you see him clean it with soap and water.”
Queen Anne rolled her eyes. “When do boys ever stop being gross?”
“Never,” Sebastian said as he ate more cake. “This is Margaret’s, isn’t it?” he asked after taking another bite.
Queen Anne smiled. “You’re a surprisingly thoughtful boy when you want to be, aren’t you?”
“What’s that supposed to mean?”
“I have access to chefs all over the world, but you singled out Margaret’s work with no hesitation.”
“And simple deduction. Her bakery isn’t far away from here,” Sebastian said.
“We could be in another country and you would have guessed that was hers. That takes a lot of respect,” Queen Anne said.
“I’m not denying that I respect her, but you’re still making foolish suppositions.”
“For the sake of not antagonizing you while I’ve finally gotten your guard down, I’ll drop it. Why do you hate it when people bring up your good points?” the queen asked. “I mean that does explain why you’re always arguing with my son. Turren sees nothing but good in you.”
Sebastian shrugged. “He sees the good in everyone. That doesn’t make me special.”
“Do you truly believe I’m sharing this meal with you because Turren views you the same way as everyone else?”
“Just because he speaks most of them aloud doesn’t mean I’m privy to all his thoughts,” Sebastian said.
“I’m sure he’s told you the most important ones,” Queen Anne said.
“What are you trying to get at?”
“Nothing, I just want to know who I’m dealing with.”
“I think your expectations of Turren’s and my situation are higher than they should be,” Sebastian said.
“Why do you keep playing dumb when you obviously know the reason why I’m here?”
“Your interest in me is premature when I have no plans for a permanent relationship with your son.”
The queen raised her hands in surrender. “Fine, I could be wrong, but all I ask is that you gently break his heart. His expectations for you two are quite high.” A guard stepped forward and whispered in her ear. Queen Anne nodded and sighed. “My work awaits me, so I have to cut our meeting short. It was a pleasure to meet you, Sir Orwell.” She stood and smirked as Sebastian remained seated. “I bet you stand for Margaret and Harold, don’t you? That’s all right. I consider earning your respect to be one of my goals,” she said before taking her cake and leaving.
The guards followed and Sebastian was left alone. “I do not want the prince, and I definitely do not love him,” he muttered to the empty space around him. “And I will not fall in love with him.”
CHAPTER 20
SEBASTIAN’S EARLIER thoughts played in his head as he lay in bed, but he still whispered Turren’s name into the mirror and watched the man appear, standing next to his dressing table.
“Did you appreciate the free day I granted you?” Turren asked.
“Don’t pat yourself on the back too hard. I still got entangled with….” Sebastian stopped speaking because he didn’t know if he should tell the prince about having cake with Queen Anne. “Never mind.”
“Your father came by my room to check if you were here. I told him that even though I had not seen you, I was deeply flattered by the accusation.”
Sebastian smiled. “You should find other things to be proud of.” His view suddenly tilted as Turren carried the mirror with him to the bed and jumped onto it. Everything
blurred until the prince’s face was back in the mirror, surrounded by lush pillows. “Stop that before you make me dizzy.”
“Dizzy with love?” Turren asked jokingly.
“Have fun prying that word out of my mouth,” Sebastian said.
“I think that could be fun.”
“Enjoy what little victories you can,” Sebastian advised. “You won’t be able to distract my father tomorrow.”
Turren sighed. “I wasn’t counting on it, and Captain Pembrost insisted that we only rest one day.”
“His job is your protection, and games delaying him probably won’t make him very happy.”
“Are you chastising me for not taking my safety seriously? Because I will take it as admission of your concern.”
“Fine, I’m worried about you but only because you’re a naïve man.”
“Hmmm,” Turren muttered. “I don’t know if I should go with a kettle joke or a gryphon joke.”
Sebastian yawned. “I am getting very sleepy. Perhaps I should go to sl—”
“Wait, I’m sorry!”
Sebastian smirked under his hood but only asked, “Why are you preparing for bed so late?”
“My mother abandoned my father for an imaginary errand, and I was tapped to stand in for her. Sometimes I think petitioners come because they’re bored. Barely any of their problems were extreme enough to warrant our help and could easily have been solved on their own.”
Sebastian laughed.
“I know I’m being insensitive and bratty. Go ahead and laugh.”
“I’m not laughing because your thoughts are in the wrong. I’m laughing because even though you’re a prince, you are required to deal with the most inane job as the rest of us: customer service.”
“How is that funny?”
“People dream of being royalty every day but never consider the ramifications of such a station. If you’re annoyed by how boring people can be but still listen to them, there’s hope for you yet.”
