“Wait a minute, wait a minute. In all that time when I was pursuing Jaq…” Rupert had a sudden thought. “Is that why you told me to send him gifts he would never appreciate? And to take him out on a hunt as his first date? When it’s clear he can barely stand to be near a horse, something I didn’t know until he returned the horse I gifted him. Did you sabotage my chances with Prince Jaq?”
“I think sabotage is a bit harsh. I did warn you against sending some of the later gifts you sent.” Tristan was clearly realizing he’d overstepped. “But with regards to the hunting date – why wouldn’t I suggest that? You love hunting – it’s your favorite way to pass the time. Jaq needed to know the true essence of who you were, and he clearly didn’t appreciate it. That’s not on me, that’s on him.”
“I think it’s time you retired for the night,” Rupert said through gritted teeth. “That’s not a suggestion, it’s an order. I expect a full apology from you in the morning, otherwise, you can consider our association finished. You forgot who I am, Tristan. That was your first of what appears to be many mistakes you’ve made. Make sure this evening’s disgusting revelation is the last.”
Rupert couldn’t even watch as Tristan stumbled from the room. He felt blindsided and disgusted as well. It wasn’t that Tristan was an ugly man. That wasn’t it. But to have someone by his side, someone Rupert trusted as much as he trusted anyone, and then find out the whole thing was a ruse, to what…score a title and a free house out of him?Gods, I wish I had someone to talk to.It didn’t help that the first person Rupert thought of was Winter.
Chapter Ten
“Oh, thank heavens you’re here, sire. Quick, quick. You have to get to your suite.”
“Pippin? What’s the emergency?” Winter leaned against the dim hallway wall, his hand pressed firmly against his side. “I had a bit of an unexpected altercation…” He peered down, noticing how his black shirt had darkened and was damp around his hand. “I don’t think I’m going anywhere in a hurry. Lend me your shoulder to lean on, if you will, and tell me what has you looking so harried. Has the king’s condition worsened?”
Pippin’s shoulder was bony under his arm, but Winter was grateful for the support. He would’ve appreciated it more, if Pippin wasn’t trying to hurry him, but clearly his man felt it was necessary. “The king is the same as when you left him,” Pippin said, panting a little and keeping his voice low as they made their way down the servant’s corridor. “It’s Crown Prince Rupert. He’s home, here at the castle.”
“What the blazes?” Winter looked at Pippen in shock, the news helping to clear the fog in his brain. “He was expected to be at the Middlethorp estate for at least until after the weekend, and Sigmund was informed he had engagements north of the castle for the next two weeks, on yet more freaking hunts.” He winced as Pippin’s elbow made contact with his middle. “Take care, please. The wound is small but deep.”
“Lord Sigmund and Prince August are doing their best to fend off your husband’s demand to see you,” Pippin said, nudging him toward the stone stairs. “Crown Prince Rupert arrived two bells ago. He was completely alone – no attendants, guards, or any sign of Lord Tristan. According to the stable master, his horse had been ridden hard.”
“Perhaps he’s concerned about his father?” Winter desperately wanted to stop for a moment. The pain in his gut was not life threatening, but it was intense enough to make his eyes water.
“It’s you he’s been demanding to see since he set foot in the castle.” Winter noticed Pippin glancing in his direction. “I fear we can’t hold him off much longer. He’s in an exceptionally agitated state, according to Prince August.”
“He would have to pick today to want to talk to me.” Winter leaned on the stones as Pippin quickly activated the three small catches that opened a wooden panel into the back of his closet. It had been a stroke of luck, Pippin finding the connection between the closet and the rarely used staircase. A bit of ingenuity, and Winter now had a secret access in and out of his suite. “At least I have a change of clothes handy,” he added as Pippin guided him in among his racks of robes and pants. “We’ll need to make sure we’re in the clear before we exit here. If my husband is in a state, then there’s no guarantee he’ll respect my privacy.”
“Ouch.” Pippin screwed up his face as Winter ripped his damaged shirt off his torso, revealing where an errant claw had snagged him. “That’s already getting inflamed, sir. It will need tending to.”
“Unless you’ve managed to build a secret entrance to my private bathing chamber since breakfast, I’m going to have to make do with a ripped shirt as a binding. With luck, my sleeping robe will cover it until my husband has had his say and disappears again.”
With Pippin’s help, Winter managed to make a make-shift bandage around his middle and then eased his arms into his flowing sleep robe. Tied loosely around the middle, no one should notice he was in any pain…Provided I can stay upright.
“All right. Poke your head out, and make sure we’re in the clear.” Winter pulled out the binding that had kept his hair held backand shook out his waves as best he could. With luck he’d look like he’d just been woken from a deep sleep.
“Thank goodness, you’re here.”
The moment Pippin opened the closet door, Sigmund was there, urging them out. “Prince August managed to keep your husband in the outer chamber, but he’s since disappeared again, demanding you be woken up immediately, and I fear he will be back directly. I’m sorry, sir. We did what we could, but you were a lot longer than expected.”
“I had an incident.” Winter waved at his torso. “I will require your expert healing assistance, but it will have to wait if my husband is getting impatient. Has anyone found out why that friend of his, Tristan, isn’t with him? I thought Rupert couldn’t poop unless Lord Middlethorp was there, handing him a washcloth.”
“I’ll find out, sir.” Pippin disappeared back into the wardrobe as Winter made his way to his bed.
“I just need to sit a minute.” Winter sank his butt onto the edge of the bed. “You’ll need to get word to the World Council Special Department. They didn’t read that magical signature wrong. There’s a definite gryphon issue here. I estimate there has to be at least three of them, as the one I encountered was young and far too healthy to be on its own, which means the parents must’ve been nearby.”
“They’re a bit far from the Dragon Mountains out here.” Sigmund frowned. “I’ll report it, of course, but you usually don’t find gryphons without dragons.”
“It makes you wonder what it is those tribes up north – the ones the king mentioned – what they might be hiding.” Reaching into his pants pocket, wincing again at the pull on his wound, Winter pulled out a small, round object encased in a velvet bag. “You’llhave to call in a dragon messenger for his one,” he said, handing it over. “Today. We don’t want anyone else here seeing that.”
“Goodness, no.” Sigmund pinched his lips together, taking the package and sliding it carefully into his pocket. “Sir, I need to take a look at that wound you’re doing a bad job of hiding.”
“After I’ve dealt with my husband,” Winter said firmly. Every instinct was telling him to lay back on the bed and get some healing done to his wound, but Rupert’s arrival was unexpected. Winter needed to ensure that nothing his husband might be planning could impede the work they were doing. “I’m going to be fine for a short while. Here’s what we’re going to do. Order some refreshments for two, if you please, then work on some salve for my issue so it’s ready to apply the moment I’m alone again. You can pass on the package to August to deliver to the dragon messenger.”
“Crown Prince Rupert should be told to make an appointment, the same as any civilized person would do.” Sigmund helped Winter to stand. “Instead of stomping around, demanding to be seen just because he’s bothered to come home. He’s been gone a whole week with no word, which is most inconsiderate.”
“I’m going to assume the appointment rules are different for royal husbands.” Winter took a couple of calming breaths, pressing against where the claw had gone. “Let’s get me seated in the outer chamber before my dear husband returns.”
He barely made it to his seat before August dashed in. “He’s coming. By the goddess, Winter, what happened to you?”
“We’ll talk about it later. Go with Sigmund, would you please? And don’t forget my coffee, thank you.”
