Nudging Fate

by E. J. Russell

  A single clanking knock on the door was followed by the door swinging open to reveal Talus. He paused for just a moment, midstride, then continued on into the suite. “Your Highness.” He bowed to Rey. “This is an unexpected pleasure.”

  A laugh wafted in from the hallway. That laugh. Con would recognize it anywhere. Oh gods. Not now.

  He spun Rey around and shoved him toward the bedroom. “Hide. Quick.”

  Rey dug in his heels. “What?”

  “I guess we should have come back to the janitor’s closet first to….” Andy stumbled to a stop next to Talus, his eyes widening as his gaze flicked from Con to Rey. “Um…. Talus, why are there two princes?”

  Chapter Sixteen

  OH sweet Fate. Andy had heard of this kind of thing. The ballads were full of instances of shape-shifting lovers who had to be recognized to be saved—and most of them had to do with Faerie, too. Was that his task? Did he need to recognize his own true love?

  The two men by the window were identical down to the last hair, but if they wanted to make this a real contest, one of them shouldn’t be wearing a Keep Portland Weird hoodie. Unless that was the trick?

  “Um… so am I supposed to pick the true prince from the lineup?”

  Rey—one of the Reys, the one in the hoodie, stepped forward. “Andy. I can explain.”

  “Really? In that case, now would be an excellent time to start.”

  Hoodie Rey glanced over his shoulder at the other Rey—who, now that Andy looked closer, had a pair of Ray-Bans pushed to the top of his head and was wearing turquoise flip-flops and a Cirque du Soleil T-shirt. Ray-Ban Rey shrugged his shoulders and held out his hand to his twin. The two clasped hands, closed their eyes, and with a shimmer and a slight pop, Hoodie Rey was a different person.

  Still tall, still dark-haired and dark-eyed, but his jaw was squarer, his nose more aquiline. Andy glanced between them again. “Who’s the real prince?”

  Ray-Ban Rey inclined his head. “Reyner of Maidencourt, at your service. I don’t believe we’ve met.”

  Andy stared at the guy, his belly roiling with some kind of weird displacement vertigo as he tried to reconcile the familiar mouth with a voice too arrogant in tone and slightly too high in pitch. It’s just wrong.

  “Why is that, Your Highness? Why did you bail on your own consort selection competition?”

  Ray-Ban Rey smirked, an expression Andy had never seen on the prince’s—gah!—face. “I was conducting my own consort selection, although….” He gave Andy a once-over worthy of Nils. “I’m sure you’ve done a splendid job entertaining my stand-in.”

  “Your stand-in.” Andy faced the other man. “Are you the one who’s been here all week? Or is another one of you—hells, a whole chorus line of princes—about to burst into the room in kickline?”

  “No. I’m the one who’s been here. I’m the one who spent some of the best hours of my life with you. I’m the one who—”

  “Don’t say it.” Andy swallowed against the sob that threatened to escape.

  “Andy, please believe me. Everything I’ve ever said to you is true.”

  “Everything? How about your freaking name?”

  “Well… except for that.”

  “And your rank.” Ray-Ban Rey said. “I suppose we should mention that.”

  Hoodie Rey glared at the other man. “You’re not helping.”

  Ray-Ban Rey shrugged. “Sorry. Just trying to be precise.”

  “That would be a first.” Hoodie Rey turned to Andy. “My name is Conall of Odstone. Con. I’m Rey’s half brother.”

  Andy scowled. “Half brother. But you’re not a prince, so you’re not the Queen’s son.”

  “No, thank the Goddess. Rey and I have the same father, whom you rescued in the garden just now.”

  “Father’s here?” Ray-Ban Rey, or rather, Rey, since the other man, Con—now there’s an appropriate name—wasn’t the prince nor had he ever been. “Why did he need rescue?”

  “Long story.” Con glared at Rey again. “Do you suppose you could give me a few minutes alone with Andy? We have some things to discuss. In private.”

  “Ah.” That smirk again. “You have been busy, brother.” He strolled toward the bedroom. “Do carry on. I have a phone call to make anyway.”

  Andy watched the prince vanish into the other room, his brain still trying to process the fact that everything he’d thought he’d known about the man he was in love with had been a lie.

  Rey—no, Con—walked toward him slowly, as if he were afraid Andy might suddenly transform into a dervish demon. “Andy. I know you have questions. But I can explain, if you’ll give me a chance. I had reasons for the masquerade.”

  Andy backed away. “Why should I believe your explanations? You could just as easily lie to me about your reasons as you did about your identity. You call it a masquerade as if it was no more important than a… a… costume ball. But you kissed me. You slept with me. You made me love you, and you don’t even exist.”

  “I do exist. I’m here. I’m Con. Everything we did together, all the time we spent, the things we talked about, the things we did—”

  “I did them with someone else! If you can fool me so well that I never even suspected, how can I ever trust you again? You lied about something as fundamental as your identity and carried it off with people who know you.”

  “They don’t know me. They know Rey.”

  “That’s my point. You were convincing enough that they never questioned you. How much easier would it be to deceive me, when I don’t know anything about you?”

  “But you do. You know everything about me. What I like to do. What I like to read.” He smiled, and damn it, his eyes—even though their shape was different, that look of tenderness was the same one Andy had fallen so hard for. “Who I love.” He reached out, as if to stroke Andy’s face.

  Andy flung up his hands, palms out. “Stop. You don’t have the right. I can’t… I need to… I only have six hours to stage a coronation and a wedding.” He felt a hysterical laugh bubbling up through his chest. “No wonder you swore so convincingly that you weren’t marrying anybody. I don’t suppose your brother wants to marry Nils?”

  Con snorted. “No.”

  “Wonderful.”

  “Andy—”

  “I have to go. If you need anything, I’ll send Brooke. I can’t talk to you now.”

  He turned and rushed out the door, Con’s voice—gods, it’s the same voice—calling his name as Andy fled down the hall.

  CON slammed the door and slapped it with both palms. “Gods damn it to all the hells!”

  “Don’t hold back, brother. Goddess knows I never do.”

  Con whirled, jabbing a finger at Rey. “That’s exactly the problem. You never do anything. You leave me to clean up after you, to fulfill any duty that bores you, to be you when it’s not convenient for you to be yourself.”

  Rey lost his trademark smirk, facing Con down with a scowl. “Being myself is no great thing. I’m the constant reminder, the undeniable physical evidence of Father’s infidelity. You have no idea what that’s like.”

  “You fucking selfish—” Con caught himself before he slammed his fist into Rey’s gut. “Don’t I?”

  Rey reared back. “Ah. Right. A point. But at least you don’t have to face her every day, see the way her lip curls in disgust when she looks at you.”

  “Only because nobody ever looks at me at all—unless I’m passing as you. And let me tell you something, brother. I would give anything you’d like to name to be able to face my mother every day—or at least more often than once a week and closer than two stories away at the top of a fucking doorless tower.”

  Rey’s fists bunched at his sides. “She brought it on herself. It was her spell that conceived us—”

  “No, it was Thomas screwing both his lover and his consort on the same night that conceived us. If he’d waited another day, the effects would have worn off.”

  “And I wouldn’t have been
born. Would that have made you happy?”

  Con’s anger wilted. Would he have been any happier without his brother? “Oak and thorn, Rey, of course not. But it would have made my mother’s life easier. Thomas’s too, since Gloriana wouldn’t have known about his affair.”

  “Wouldn’t she? He was 'True Thomas’ remember. All she had to do was ask him, and he’d have spilled everything, the bloody idiot.”

  Con barked out a laugh. “You’re right. It would never occur to him to even try to lie. Too bad I didn’t learn something from him.” He strode over to the sofa and collapsed onto it. “Goddess, Rey, we’re a couple of fools.”

  “At least we come by it honestly.” Rey settled onto the opposite end of the sofa.

  Con faced him. “I’m done, Rey. I’ve stood in for you for the last time.”

  “Fair enough. Besides, if you had tried to stand in for me with Xiang, I’d have cut your balls off and fed them to the trolls.”

  “Xiang. Is that your lover?”

  Rey nodded, his face transforming again, practically radiating joy. “He’s amazing. And he’ll be mine after tonight.”

  “How do you plan to avoid Gloriana’s plan to saddle you with Nils? Your new civil service superpowers may not do the job.”

  “Then I’ll activate Plan B.”

  “Of course you’ve got a Plan B,” Con muttered.

  “I don’t know why you’re so pissy.”

  Con just snorted, and Rey continued.

  “Once the coronation ring is on my finger, the ritual requires the Queen to grant me three boons. For my first, I’ll ask for Xiang as my consort.”

  “What about the second?”

  “What?”

  “If the first is for yourself, what will your second boon be?”

  “I’ll think of something.” Rey’s gaze slid away, and he was suddenly very interested in the curtains. “Maybe Xiang would like a new palace.”

  Con studied him, at the way he plucked at the seam of his trousers. A tell. “Rey. Have you actually asked Xiang if he wants to be your consort?”

  “Not… not in so many words. But he loves me. I know that.”

  “Does he love you enough to leave the life he knows, give up his citizenship in whatever realm he belongs to, and become what amounts to the house-husband of a Faerie justice of the peace? Maybe you should ask him what he wants before you make the decision for him.”

  Rey frowned at his lap and punched the sofa cushions. “That’s beside the point. We’ll be together. That’s what matters.”

  “Of all the—” Con flung a throw pillow and hit Rey in the head.

  Rey looked up, indignant. “What was that for?”

  “For being a bloody arse. Think about someone else for a change. Think about Xiang.”

  “I do! Why do you think I’m going through with this? If it weren’t for the new power, for the boons, I’d never have agreed to the coronation at all. We could have gone on as before.”

  “As before? With me forced to impersonate you whenever you go gallivanting off to please yourself? Oak and bloody thorn, Rey, have you ever considered how I feel about that?”

  Rey’s eyes had grown wider with every one of Con’s angry words. “I didn’t think— You never said anything.”

  “And you never asked. Not once, Rey. Never in both our lives did you ask me what I wanted.”

  Rather than blowing up at Con in return, Rey bit his lip. “I… I’m sorry, Con. What do you want?”

  Con fell back against the sofa cushions. “Him. I want him.”

  “The event coordinator?” At Con’s nod, Rey raised his chin. “Very well. I’ll make sure you get him.”

  “I don’t think you’ll have much to say about it. That’s going to be his choice.”

  “Then you better help him make the right one. After tonight, I’ll be in a position to help you. After tonight, everything will work out. You’ll see.”

  “I hope you’re right.” Although if it did, it would be the first time ever.

  Chapter Seventeen

  ANDY was fleeing blindly along the corridor when Brooke stepped out of the service elevator.

  She pretended to wipe her brow—although undines never perspired—and grinned. “Crisis averted. Wait until you see the seafood spread Chef is…. Andy? What’s wrong?”

  He grabbed her elbow and towed her toward the janitor’s closet. No. Can’t go there. Not the place Con had declared his love—while still pretending to be the prince. Gah!

  “I need to tell you something. Come on.” He straight-armed the door to the stairwell and ran up the stairs, Brooke at his heels.

  “Andy, what the hells? Can’t you—”

  “No. Not until we’re alone.”

  When they reached his room, he closed the door behind her. “There aren’t any salamanders monitoring this room, are there?”

  “Of course not. Smith doesn’t have it on his monitor feed either. Now what is going on?”

  “The prince—”

  “Ooooh, your royal crush.” She waggled her eyebrows. “I knew he liked you.”

  “Stop it. The man that we thought was the prince isn’t the prince at all. He’s an impostor.”

  Brooke goggled at him. “What? How can that be? Talus vouched for him!”

  “I know, but it’s true. He’s apparently the prince’s half brother. The real prince showed up just now.”

  “Oh.” Brooke blinked several times before a grin spread across her face. “This is great.”

  “Great? It is not great. He lied to me, Brooke. The whole time we were together. Even when we—” Heat rushed up Andy’s throat. “I mean, he lied.”

  “Neptune’s balls, Andy, not twenty-four hours ago, you were wishing he wasn’t a prince. So stop whinging, because congratulations. You got your wish.”

  They both froze. If Brooke’s expression meant she felt the same icy wash of horror in her middle as he did….

  “You don’t think….” He swallowed, fighting the bile rising in his throat. “I didn’t…. At least I don’t think I did. If I did, I didn’t mean to—”

  “Stop it. You didn’t, because you’re not that kind of person. You’d never interfere with Fate.”

  Andy dropped his gaze, scuffing his feet on the carpet. “Well….”

  “Andy.” Her tone was horrified. “Are you telling me you changed someone’s fate?”

  His gaze flew to her face. “No! That is, not someone. More like something. Somethings, actually. I sort of encouraged several vases to leap to their deaths.”

  She frowned. “Did they offend you in some way?”

  “No, but I needed a diversion. Both times.”

  She screwed up her face. “That’s straying a little too far into a gray area. Did the diversions affect the choices that actual people made?”

  “Well. Yes. But not directly. They still had options. I didn’t force them to do anything.”

  “I’m not sure Odin would see it that way. Or your aunts.”

  “Maybe not. But I’m absolutely certain I didn’t influence the prince’s—” He winced. “I mean the fae-formerly-known-as-the-prince’s actions. I mean, it wasn’t my idea for him to lie to all of us the minute he set foot in the Interstices.”

  “Okaaay.” The way Brooke drew out the word did not make her sound certain.

  “Look, I couldn’t have made him not the prince. I mean, that’s not in my power. I’d have had to set the fate of his parents, not to mention the real prince, and I wasn’t even born then.” He paused. “At least, I don’t think so. Odin’s beard, trying to align the timelines between realms is so freaking confusing!”

  Andy trudged across the room and dropped onto the love seat. Brooke followed to settle beside him.

  She patted his knee. “Let’s set that aside for the moment. Tell me. Do you love him?”

  “I love somebody—but I’m not sure who that is anymore. How can I ever trust him again?”

  “Sometimes love means taking the plung
e into unknown icy waters. If he was willing to consider a relationship with you knowing that you’re a norn, then he was willing to take a leap of faith too.”

  Andy winced. “Weeeeelllll….”

  “Oho. So he wasn’t the only one who was concealing something major?”

  “That’s different.”

  “Really?”

  “It never came up.”

  She raised her pierced eyebrow.

  “Okay, so I avoided the subject. I didn’t want to change his opinion of me. But I told him.” He glanced down at his hand. “Eventually.” But not until after we… oh, Odin’s beard.

  “Right.” She slapped his knee once and stood. “So he’s not the prince. He’s not getting married. If you really like him, you’ve got time now—time to get to know each other without all the subterfuge. Don’t screw it up.”

  Brooke had a point. If Con was willing to declare his feelings after Andy confessed his nornishness, then he deserved the same consideration. They both deserved this chance.

  “All we need to do,” she said, “is get through the coronation and the wedding tonight, and you can take all the time you want with him.”

  “Oh, sweet Fate. The wedding. The Queen.” The threat. “There’s something else.”

  “What about it? He’s not getting married, right?”

  “Well, the Queen expects someone to be choosing a consort tonight, although she has her own idea of who the happy couple will be. If I do what she wants, we can shove the appropriate toppers in the cake right now.”

  “Sure. One of her preselected candidates. Wait. Is your fake prince going to tell the real prince who to pick? It’s not as if he actually spent any time with any of the candidates.” Her eyes grew round. “Ooooh. Is he going to pick you?”

  He shot her a disgusted look. “Even if I was in the candidate pool—which I’m not—if he really loves me, why the hells would he want me to marry his brother?”

  “Oh. Right. Good point.”

  “And besides….” His throat felt as if it were made of concrete. “The Queen told me she expects me to… arrange matters so that the prince chooses Nils.”