by SJ Himes
Jaime gawked, at a loss for words, determined not to let the wine make him appear any sillier. “Me?” He groaned in failure, dropping his face to Maxim’s shoulder, his whole body bouncing as Maxim laughed in delight.
“Yes, you.” A warm hand encouraged him to lift his head, and the charming smile Maxim wore was enough to banish some of Jaime’s awkwardness. “I would have no one else accompany me. Please.”
“Yes,” Jaime breathed out before the more logical side of his brain could argue why that wasn’t the best of ideas.
Somehow, either Jaime was spinning or the room did, he found himself on his back being kissed to within an inch of his life. “Thank you,” Maxim whispered, before kissing him again. Jaime curled his arms around Maxim’s neck and held on tightly, refusing to let go.
“He’s taking you to the Grand Ball?” Greaves asked, stopping in the middle of the hall, making Jaime step around his mentor lest he run into his back.
“Um, yes?” Jaime replied, more nervous than he wanted to be. Maxim had cradled Jaime in his arms all night, nothing more happening between them, aside from a numerous number of kisses and blushes. Maxim had left once they heard Greaves leave his room, knocking on Jaime’s door as he usually did in passing each morning before they started their shift. Jaime took the coward’s way out, sneaking off to the washroom while Maxim chatted casually with a nonplussed Greaves, the healer obviously taken aback to find a prince in the hallway of the healer residence. Jaime mused it more likely had to do with the early hour more than judgment on Greaves’ part. Greaves hated mornings and grumbled about the unnatural state of rising before the sun often.
“Is taking me not allowed?” Jaime asked, as Greaves began walking again. It was hours since that rushed goodbye with Maxim, and they were halfway through their shift.
“What? Yes, it’s allowed! This isn’t some backwater city in Eistrea. If the prince wants to take a commoner to the Grand Ball, he can and will, and the only people complaining will be the debutants deprived the chance of snagging one of the royals. Do you have an outfit?” Greaves rambled on, leading Jaime into the small kitchen off the infirmary. “No, what am I thinking? Of course, you don’t. Master Eames says you’ve got more than enough money held in trust by the crown, so we can order you something suitable.”
Jaime gawked, trailing after Greaves, grabbing some hothouse fruit from a bowl and nibbling, eyes wide, as Greaves described a wide variety of clothing options and fabrics. “How do you know all of this?”
Greaves stopped mid breath and blinked down at Jaime, as if just noticing he was there. “Oh, my family are textile merchants. My mother even has her own couture shop out of the Merchant District down in the city. I’ll send her a message with your measurements, and she’ll charge it to your account with the crown. She can probably have something here by nightfall.”
“That fast?” Jaime asked, eyes wide.
“Well, if we had the time, I could take you to her shop in the city, and you could likely walk out of there with something immediately. But we’ve still got the rest of our shift, and the infirmary is almost full.”
“I…should I go? Will I be missed during the Ball? What if something happens?”
Greaves rolled his eyes so hard Jaime marveled that they didn’t get stuck in the back of his head. “The ball is late in the afternoon. We have the morning shift. You’ll have a few hours after our shift ends before the prince will collect you for the festivities. And if something major happens, I’ll be here. I don’t like dancing, so I won’t be attending any of the balls that night.”
“Dancing?” Jaime gulped, and trailed disconsolately after Greaves, his mentor still chattering away about silk versus velvet.
The next morning, Jaime dressed in his robes, staring at the boxes from the couture shop Greaves’ mother owned. He was afraid to open them, but each one was labeled clearly with what was inside. The ball was that evening, and Jaime was equally terrified and excited. Yesterday it was easy to push aside the fact that Maxim was taking him to the Solstice Ball, an event that was the culmination of the country-wide Solstice Festival, but today, with the boxes staring him in the face, the nerves hit him hard.
Knowing he lacked any knowledge of his new home, Jaime pestered Greaves all day yesterday in between patients about traditions and history of Pyrderi. “So, the Ball is open to everyone?”
“Depends on which ball,” Greaves had replied, handing Jaime a stack of bandages as they went about restocking the bedside supplies. “There’s dozens of them, thrown across the whole city. Rich merchants, traders, city officials, nobles, all of them throwing their own parties, and the biggest and most opulent, is the Grand Ball, held here at the palace. It’s also the hardest to get into. It’s not restricted by rank or station in life, but is it restricted to invitation only. Anyone could attend at one point, but now invitations are sent out, and those who receive one are vetted for security reasons. Back when Janis was a lad, maybe thirteen or so, before King Llyr remarried, there was a kidnapping attempt during the Grand Ball. The ruffians were stopped, mainly thanks to the fact that Prince Janis was already a fair hand with a weapon at thirteen. The Council insisted on restricting access to the royal family, and now the guest list is fully vetted and new guests can take over a year to get approved.”
“Prince Janis was kidnapped?” Jaime gasped out, eyes wide.
“For less than hour,” Greaves told him with a smile, Jaime trailing after him as they deposited their burdens in the infirmary. “The guards caught up to the kidnappers before they even managed to sneak him out of the palace, and half the kidnappers were dead. Prince Janis disarmed one of them and took out three men. The guards said he was still fighting, and the kidnappers were ready to run when they found the prince. It was actually that incident that convinced King Llyr to remarry, and sire more heirs.”
“And now the Grand Ball is restricted to those on a preapproved list? What about me?”
“You’ve been vetted and cleared already. The magi and Master Eames attested to your identity while you were still recovering from shock that first night here in the infirmary. Plus, the Healer’s Academy in Corinthia was able to collaborate.” Greaves stopped and turned, Jaime’s wide eyes and hurried breath conveying just how nervous he was. “Jaime, it is just a ball. Pretty clothes, pretty people, fun, drinking, and some food that may or may not be horrible. All will be well. Maxim won’t let you out of his sight. If you can’t believe me, then believe in Maxim.”
“I can do that,” Jaime murmured, thinking about how easy it was to believe in his prince. Maxim had quickly become his everything.
Now, the next morning, nerves still tingling, Jaime left his rooms and went for his last shift in the infirmary before the ball that afternoon. Greaves was sitting at a table, stacks of paperwork around him, and he crooked a smile at Jaime when he saw him emerge from the residence hall. “Come, young novice, and gird thy loins—for today is the day of organizing files. A perilous day indeed, for paper cuts abound.”
Jaime rolled his eyes at his mentor, who snorted out a laugh and pushed a stack in his direction. “I’ll heal your papercuts if you heal mine,” Jaime retorted. He pulled the stack closer as he took a seat at the table.
“Deal,” Greaves agreed. His mentor stared at him for a short time, Jaime quirking a brow back. “You ready for this evening?”
“No,” Jaime replied and laughed, a touch hysterically. “I know logically that a ball won’t hurt me, but I’m still nervous. A prince is taking me to a ball at a palace. This is very…surreal.”
Greaves nodded. “I can see how you’d feel that way. Worried about Maxim treating you badly?”
“What? No!”
“Worried he’s going to abandon you and some lecherous old dukes will want to drag you into a corner to look at etchings?”
Jaime grimaced. “No, and now I really don’t plan on leaving Maxim’s side.”
“Don’t worry about the ball. Maxim will be there. And if there is
one thing I know about princes, and this certain prince, it’s that they are predisposed to being heroes. Prince Maxim is a hero already. So, have fun and dance until the sun comes up.”
“I’ll try my best,” Jaime promised, and Greaves gave him a wink, one that made his eyes look especially owlish. Cheered, Jaime got to work organizing patient files.
He didn’t have a full-length mirror, but the awed expression Greaves wore told Jaime that he looked decent, if not great. Jaime blushed, smoothing his hands down the incredibly soft tunic, admiring the way it felt. He was warm, but not overly, and his outfit even came with boots and a cape.
“I feel like a fairy godmother from some tale,” Greaves muttered as he stacked empty boxes and tissue paper.
Jaime looked down at himself, admiring the cream and gold tunic that fell to mid-thigh, the supple brown breeches, and the light-doeskin leather boots trimmed in brass and copper. His tunic was cut open on both sides up to his belt, which was a simple copper and leather piece that looped once around his waist before a long tail hung down over his right hip. The tunic was trimmed in what looked to be actual gold thread, and there was a thin underlayer of golden lace around the edges that flashed subtly as if implying there was treasure underneath the cream silk and cotton overtunic. The tunic collar was short, less than an inch, but it too was trimmed in gold, a short V in the fabric under his chin cutting down to his collarbone.
Jaime brushed his hair back from his face as best he could, and the only thing he wore that was similar to jewelry was his metal and leather belt. Jaime took a deep breath and picked the lightweight cape up from the bed, the fabric of which was a lovely brown as well, but reminiscent of hot chocolate. He hung it over his arm since he didn’t want to start sweating before he even got to see Maxim.
“Thank you,” Jaime told Greaves, who left the empty boxes on the desk. “I wouldn’t have been able to handle this on my own.”
“I don’t mind at all. What are friends for?” Greaves smiled then tilted his head to the door. “I think a prince may be here soon. Shall we go wait?”
Jaime led the way from the room, walking down the hall to the common area. No sign of Maxim yet, but Jaime was early. He stopped at the last table before the exit, and lay down his cape, still nervous, and not wanting to rumple the fabric.
Jaime blinked then turned to look at Greaves. “Friends?”
Greaves frowned, confused, then his expression cleared and a subtle hint of humor made his lips twitch. “I don’t beg my mother for a Solstice Ball outfit at the literal last minute for just anyone, you know. Friends, Jaime. I might be your mentor, but we both know you need very little in the way of guidance. You’ll earn you healer patch in short order. I’d much rather be your friend than mentor, anyway. I hope my next novice doesn’t have a prince fall in love with him. So stressful.”
Jaime snorted, covering his face with both hands as he laughed. Some of the sick nerves swirling in his gut abated, and he was grateful for Greaves in more ways than one. He dropped his hands. “Thank you. And you never know, I might get a trainee who wants to tame a gryphon.”
Greaves tilted his chin down, mouth pinched, and laughter shook his shoulders. Jaime rolled his eyes and crossed his arms. “Has that already happened?”
“I say we buy you a mirror next,” Greaves finally said, leaning on the table.
Jaime frowned, but Greaves didn’t elaborate.
They waited in silence, until Greaves spoke up again. “I do hope I don’t need to explain…” he trailed off, and it took Jaime a moment. The almost terrified expression on Greaves’ face clued him in.
“Oh! I know how that works,” Jaime assured Greaves. They were not having that conversation, not while waiting for Maxim to walk through the door at any moment.
“Even between men?” Greaves made sure to ask, and Jaime felt gratitude even through the burning embarrassment heating his cheeks. They might have just decided they were friends, but this was a conversation best suited for a less personal moment. He’d learned everything he thought there was to know about sex, between both sexes, in his first-year classes. The academy even had drawings. Lots of drawings.
“Yes, all the ways. Every way. Not a problem,” Jaime hastened to add, and he groaned when Greaves perked up.
“There’s more than one way?”
Jaime dropped his head into his hands again, Greaves cackling. “I’m sorry. I figured you knew already, but there’s a difference between knowing and doing, especially with sex,” Greaves pointed out, quite logically, but the effect was ruined by the occasional snort of giggles escaping his mouth.
“I was thinking you were a somber, slightly awkward fellow, but you’ve been a brat all along, haven’t you?” Jaime dared, and Greaves threw back his head, peals of laughter escaping.
“I’m not sorry, after all.” Greaves chortled, wiping at his cheeks. “I wish you a merry time with your prince, and if it goes that way tonight, I snuck a vial of oil into your nightstand earlier. Just remember patience and plenty of oil.”
Jaime’s jaw dropped, and he twirled away from Greaves, firmly not thinking about sex and Maxim at the same time.
Jaime hadn’t seen Maxim in over a day. Princess Diana had been on a diplomatic trip south, traveling by ship along the shore, and the magi sent a message to the nearest town along her expected route, calling her home. Due to the weather, her ship hadn’t gotten as far as they feared, and the message was relayed a few times until it met up with her. Electing to return to the capital by land, Maxim and Elric went south to meet her sometime yesterday morning, and they should have returned to the capital just after noon. Maxim had, thankfully, sent Jaime a message upon his return. Maxim must be exhausted, and Jaime was worried his prince might not be up for a party. Dancing could be strenuous.
Other things with Maxim could be strenuous. Jaime flushed, head to toe, and diligently pulled his mind away from the bedchamber and back to dancing.
Jaime knew how to dance. Sort of. He learned the small country dances common in Eistrea, and some dances while at the Academy in Corinthia, but he knew nothing of local customs or traditions, and wondered if he would make a fool of himself.
The door to the infirmary opened, and Maxim swept inside.
His prince was a vision. In every tale Jaime ever read, heard told over a late winter fire, or shared in whispered and quickly hushed conversations, the prince was always dashing, handsome.
Perfect.
And he was.
Maxim wore a circlet about his brow, holding just enough of his hair back from his face for the warm honey brown of his eyes to be seen. He wore a green and blue tunic that was longer than Jaime’s, falling to his knees, with cuts in the sides running up his powerful thighs to just below his belt, a silver and gold metal chain embossed over leather that was wrapped around his lean waist. His legs were clad in skintight black breeches, and black leather boots to his knees were shined to a mirror finish. Maxim was a vision in deep jewel tones.
The tunic was tied down the front with gold and green leather thongs, darker than the rest, somehow encouraging the eye to take in the whole miracle that was Maxim. Gold and silver thread, and metal lace trimmed every hem in designs that brought to mind feathers and snowflakes. The whole outfit was nothing compared to the emotions Maxim wore openly on his face, or the urgency with which he swept Jaime up into his arms.
The kiss was everything Jaime had ever hoped for, sweet and sharp with a heady thread of need. Love was there, along with a deep undercurrent of aching desire to never leave this man’s arms. Jaime opened his mouth to Maxim, who took the invitation and invaded deep, a low growl of satisfaction rumbling up from his chest. Jaime sighed into Maxim’s mouth, legs ready to give out, arms tight about his prince’s neck.
A discreet cough brought them back. Maxim lifted his head slowly, lips wet and swollen, and Jaime feared he looked just the same. He wanted to stay right there in Maxim’s arms.
Maxim set him down on his feet, keeping hi
m in the circle of his arms. Greaves was smiling at them, though doing his best not to give away the laughter Jaime could see brewing.
“He’s not a child, so have fun. No big brother lecture from me,” Greaves said by way of greeting, waving his hands at them. “I managed to get the night free as well, and I need to change. I do know that the few other healers on our hall are going to parties or are on duty in the infirmary, so the hall should be vacant all night long.” With a swift wink, Greaves left, heading for the residence hall.
Jaime bit his lip, looking up at Maxim, clutching his hard biceps, their bodies plastered together from waist to thigh. Maxim burned hot enough to set Jaime on fire, and he gave a soft whine of need, squirming his hips.
Maxim pressed a swift and hard kiss to his lips before backing away and offering his arm. “As much as I wish to spend the night alone with you, my love, we’ve a Solstice Grand Ball to attend. Are you ready?”
Jaime grabbed his cape and swung it about his shoulders, tying the clasp. He took Maxim’s arm and let his prince lead him from the infirmary, a bounce in his step. “Ready.”
The walk to the far side of the palace had started out quietly, Jaime clinging to Maxim’s arm, his prince smiling down at him reassuringly. The foot traffic increased as they went along, a respectful distance held around them by the bejeweled and elegant throng. Jaime didn’t notice at first, but red-caped guards in light chain mail mixed with the crowd, many of them with watchful eyes on Maxim. After the story he heard from Greaves, he was appreciative of their presence.
A long, wide, and tall hallway bedecked with fireless, starlight torches lit the way, light dancing off jewels and precious metals adorning the slow-moving wave of fragrant humanity all walking towards a set of doors. The doors were taller than any Jaime had seen yet in the palace, two guards at each side, and four servants, who Jaime soon identified as heralds. They would switch off, a pause between each announcement, one after the other, alerting the arrival of nobles and important personages.
