“I’m sure if he is there, he will be exceptionally polite.”He’d better be,Rupert thought grimly.
“I’m well-versed in dealing with polite people. As for the rest, I will rely on you to steer me in the right direction as to who is suitable to speak to and who isn’t. Do you know a lot about your friends’ habits? Do you consider them very close?”
Somehow Rupert didn’t think Winter was referring to details like how far a person might shoot an arrow, or what they might be like in intimate settings. “I make a point of not prying into anyone’s personal life,” he said. “Once I became heir, my father suggested that I create some distance between myself and the families I’d been socializing with.”
“My goodness, yes. There’s a lot of value in that suggestion,” Winter agreed. “We have to be so careful, associating with people who might behave in a manner unbecoming, for example.”
He chuckled again.It’s almost as though he’s enjoying my company.Rupert found he quite liked that sound.
“It’s always handy to know some things about the people around you, though. Wouldn’t you agree? When it comes time, and you become king, in the far distant future…”
Winter was being particularly kind. Rupert knew his father was in relatively good spirits, and had been since the wedding, but he still looked as though death was hovering over his shoulder.
“There’s going to come a time when you will be needed to form your own council. In that instance, can you see where it’s important to know the little details about the society friends that you have around you? For example, someone who might have a gambling habit. Perhaps another person who isn’t as…how do I say this delicately?”
This time it was Rupert who laughed. “Between us, I prefer blunt speech. Are you referring to those people who have a spouse in the home and a paramour in another house on the outskirts of town?”
“You read my mind, yes.” Winter laughed with him. “That’s exactly what I’m talking about. And while that sort of behavior might be perfectly acceptable between friends, when it comes to ruling a country or being part of a council, we can hardly have anybody in that select group that might be subject to blackmail from a third party because of their misdeeds or their casualness with their finances.”
“That is a very astute observation. I will keep that in mind.” This talking to his husband business really wasn’t as difficult as Rupert thought it would be. Winter was not only extremely good looking, he also had very sensible ideas. He started to relax.
“Tell me about Martingale,” he suggested, wanting to veer away from the idea that he would be king one day. “I understand it’s very handy to the Dragon Mountains. Did you see many dragons when you were there?”
“Oh, my goodness, yes. They are such fascinating creatures. Did you know, for example…”
Chapter Thirteen
Winter had always prided himself on being able to get on with people from all walks of life – from the friendly chap who cleaned the ash from the kitchen fires in the morning before the cook got up, to kings from various countries. He always trusted that if he greeted someone with a friendly smile and showed a caring attitude, most people responded positively. A person’s title made no difference to him. Winter went into any interaction believing every person had value until they proved otherwise.
Unfortunately, when it came to Rupert’s friends, they didn’t even try to be decent people. Winter struggled to think of when he’d ever met a group of individuals who took pride in their misogyny, loud natures, and immaturity. But that described the men who flocked around Rupert after dinner perfectly. The women, wisely so in Winter’s opinion, were clustered around tables, chatting among themselves. But rather than dance, which is what typically occurred after dinner at a ball, the men stood around on the dance floor, drinks in hand, sharing stories, and all trying to desperately one-up each other.
The loud tones had one advantage. Winter was under no illusions as to what Rupert’s friends thought about him. Tristan’s absence caused more than one person to make comments within Winter’s hearing, although not to his face, that they believed that Tristan had been treated badly - not by Rupert, but by Winter. The phrase “must be the new husband’s fault” had been uttered by at least four men who should know better.
Winter had been raised to ignore such nonsense. He kept a smile on his face and answered as politely as possible if spoken to directly. But inside, he was cataloging information – the men weren’t discreet – and keeping an eye on his husband.
On their arrival, Lord and Lady Middlethorp had greeted him warmly, both of them showing the respect due to his new position as a crown prince consort. That was a first for Winter – a reminder that his marriage had wider connotations than interactions between himself and Rupert. As a non-ranked prince of Martingale, he was usually well down the queue of any receiving line where other royals were present. This was the first time he’d been treated or greeted in accordance with his elevated position. It was going to take some getting used to.
Rupert was very attentive, making sure Winter had a drink and that he’d enjoyed his meal. As promised, he introduced Winter to everyone who came close to them, alternating between referring to Winter as his husband or by his full title. Although now they were mingling, Rupert barely had anything to say in conversation with the people Winter was introduced to. Rupert seemed happy to stay by Winter’s side, listening, but not participating much at all.
Rupert’s friends, and Winter used the term loosely, didn’t seem to think anything was amiss. As Rupert had mentioned in the carriage, there were many couples, and Winter had been introduced to them all. But it was almost as though there was an unspoken rule that the couples had to split up once the dining part of the evening was finished. Winter wondered at some point if he should have gone and sat with the ladies. He would’ve probably had more fun. But Rupert’s hand on his elbow indicated his husband wanted them together.
The humor among the men was bawdy and rowdy – the sort of jocularity more likely found in a seafarer’s bar than a society family estate. In the right setting, Winter would’ve laughed alongside the others, even if he didn’t find the topic of their humor particularly amusing. Rupert didn’t appear to notice anything unusual in it, but he also didn’t join in. Rupert’s friendsdidn’t seem to expect him to, and Winter wondered how much of Rupert’s silence was part of maintaining his facade as the tall, enigmatic crown prince, or if Rupert genuinely didn’t know what to say.
Winter had thought the same thing when they were in the carriage. It was as if Rupert knew he had a part to play, but no one had fed him the lines he should’ve rehearsed. When it was just the two of them, Winter was happy to carry the conversation. Rupert had smiled, and even laughed once or twice, which was appreciated.
It was clear Rupert knew the basics of social niceties, but it would seem that Winter’s team’s research had been correct. Sigmund, August, and Pippin had all exhausted their own particular skills on that issue, and none of them had been able to find any reference to Rupert actually having dated anybody before. While Rupert attended numerous events every year, he had always been with a male companion or went alone.
It didn’t take long for the conversation to turn to Rupert’s absence from the hunting expedition the day before.
“You missed a really good day, Your Highness,” Lord Percy said, throwing a rather disdainful glance in Winter’s direction. Clearly, that was another thing Percy believed was Winter’s fault. “We bagged numerous rabbits and three large deer that we managed to bring down between us. It was such fun, and the chase was hilarious. You should’ve been there. Old Bakersfield here almost tumbled his horse trying to get it to keep up. Seriously, Bakersfield, I keep telling you, you need a new horse.”
If it was possible, Bakersfield’s face got even redder. He was already flushed from the amount of beverages he’d been drinking – another point Winter noticed. All of the men were drinking heavily, Rupert included. In contrast, Winter stuck toa single glass of wine after dinner, preferring to keep his wits about him.
“Tell me, Your Highness,” Bakersfield said, probably to take the focus off himself by addressing Winter directly. “Will we see you accompanying the crown prince during a hunt? Do you hunt at all?”
Winter shook his head. “I doubt it. I know how to hunt, of course, although I don’t see the point in doing it for sport. The only reason that any animal should be hunted, in my humble opinion, is for food or if, for some reason, that animal is a danger to populated areas. But to simply hunt as a sport, when there are so many other athletic options available, I find a little unnecessary. I was curious, though, listening to your conversation. What do you do with the carcasses of the animals you’ve slain?”
Percy and Bakersfield both looked toward Rupert, who shrugged. “To be honest, I’m not really sure,” he said. “It differs depending on the estate running the hunt, I imagine. I know the staff takes care of that side of things. At any hunts run from the castle, the stable boys chop the meat up for the hunting dogs.”
