“We’re not trying to kill these creatures,” Winter said softly as if reading his mind. “The World Council does believe that a lot of these creatures are more sentient than they let on. Probably because half the time, people don’t come across them anyway, and if they do, they’re absolutely terrified. So it’s not like they’re going to sit down and try holding a conversation with them. I did think…”
Winter stared off at a point over Rupert’s shoulder, and Rupert wondered what he was looking at. “I’m not sure if you noticed, but at that last minute, just before Sigmund employed his pouch and captured that second gryphon, I genuinely thought that the gryphon understood me in some way. Whether he understood the words or maybe he just realized I didn’t mean any harm, I’m not sure, but...”
“Whereas I blundered in like an idiot. Hmm…” Rupert wasn’t sure if he was meant to join Winter when Winter started laughing. He wasn’t used to laughing at himself, but once again, he was mistaken.
“Oh, Rupert dear, you’re going to have such fun when you meet the rest of my family. When I first started hunting with my father and older brothers…” Winter slapped his knee, still laughing.
“I’m so much shorter than all of my siblings, and I’m the only blond brother – I have one blond sister, but still. Short, blond, cute, and yes, there was me out there determined to do well in my first mission. I made so many mistakes.”
“How old were you when you went out that first time?”
“Fifteen.” Winter was still laughing. “I didn’t think I needed training. I was convinced I had a natural flair for hunting, andcreatures were just going to obey my commands. My brothers teased me so much, and for good reason. I couldn’t even stay on my horse. You think you did badly today – at least you didn’t fall off your horse. I did, so many times.”
“It sounds like your horse was like mine.”
“He was. Our family always believed that our horses should learn to be in the field by taking their cues from us, the riders. The first time my horse and I saw a werebear – that thing had to be the height of two people easily and just as broad. I freaked, sure I would soil my pants, my horse took off running, and of course I wasn’t hanging on. So bam, I landed on the ground, and two of my brothers were still laughing as they made the capture without me. I had to walk home from that job because my horse had just bolted for home. Neither of my brothers offered to give a ride.”
“You’re trying to make me feel better, aren’t you?” Rupert said. “I really wanted to be helpful to you today.”
“You were, Rupert dear, you truly were.” Rupert looked deep into Winter’s eyes, but he couldn’t see any sign of deceit. The man was just as calm and happy as he had been since he’d come into the room.
“The fact that you believed me when I told you my secret. The fact that you wanted to try this and came out with us with so little preparation. Do you know how much of a gift it was to me that you were willing to make mistakes just to help us? That shows a huge deal of trust, Rupert, and that’s so very, very important. It’s probably one of the most important things to me.”
Trust. One small word with so much weight behind it. Rupert barely trusted anyone in his life, and yet Winter had trusted him almost from day one.I trust him, too.From the momenthe’d demanded access to Winter in his room, his husband hiding the wound he’d sustained earlier that day, Rupert had somehow trusted Winter to treat him kindly. It warmed Rupert’s heart just thinking about it.
“It still fascinates me how you do all you do, though. Flipping gears between hunting mythical creatures one minute and going straight into a meeting with council members with barely time to change robes the next. I’m in awe at how you can keep your head on straight.”
“I’ve had years of experience,” Winter said. “This was your first mission. I was raised in a family where living split lives is normal. I’m so glad I told you our secret, though.”
Rupert was surprised when Winter snuggled into his chest. He quickly dropped his arm from the back of the couch to Winter’s shoulders, enjoying the closeness even if it was something he was still getting used to.
“See, this is nice.” Winter sighed happily. “Normally, after a day like today, I would have a debriefing session with Sigmund and Pippin, of course. But then they would go off to their own rooms, and I’d be left sitting alone. It’s difficult to explain, but in a lot of ways, I’d still be on edge, pondering my mistakes, wondering how I could have done things differently. I’ve never had anyone to share my thoughts with once I started going on missions independent from my family. But now I’ve got you, and we can talk about it, and that’s special too. Wouldn’t you agree?”
“Yes.” Rupert had never really had anyone to share hopes, worries, and dreams with. Even with Tristan, long before he realized how duplicitous that man had been, Rupert had only shared superficial aspects of his life. Tristan didn’t know him, but Rupert believed Winter was on his side.
“I really hope,” Rupert said after a long moment, “as we get to know each other more, that one day I’ll be able to make you feel as good as you seem to do with me. Even when I make the silliest of mistakes, like I did today, you made things seem right again in my head. I don’t know what I did to deserve you in my life, but I am so glad that I did it. Marrying you was the best decision of my life.”
“I’m so glad that you’re my husband, too, even if I’m the most unsuitable prince you could think of when you made your choice.” Winter looked up and winked. “Let me know if you still feel that way the first time we attend a social event where I’m meant to be more frivolous.”
“I look forward to escorting you wherever you’d like to go. Stylish, not necessarily elegant, gem-encrusted robes, and all.” Rupert leaned forward. He didn’t rely on his instincts very often, too busy trying to protect himself, but in that moment, he believed soft words should be followed by a kiss. It seemed Winter felt the same way.
Epilogue
Three weeks later.
“I trust you don’t mind the observation, but your consort is looking particularly festive this evening.”
Rupert barely glanced at Percy, who’d appeared at his side. He was watching Winter work the room, still fascinated despite now knowing what went on behind the scenes.
Three weeks of planning culminated in the event they were currently attending. The Silvan estate had been overjoyed to hear that the new consort had expressed an interest in their area of Simigile, and a ball was hastily arranged to accommodate the consort’s whim. The following day, a small hunt had been organized, and it was rumored that Crown Prince Consort Winter would be taking part. Many of Rupert’s colleagues were in attendance, keen to make up for their appalling behavior at the last event.
“It is always pleasing when my consort is enjoying himself.” Rupert suppressed the grin that threatened to ruin his typically surly image. “Lord Farrow is proving to be an entertaining conversationalist, no doubt.”
It wasn’t just Lord Farrow Winter had been chatting with. Rupert had been stunned when Sigmund let him know there were six different people attending the event that Winter was there to make “contact” with – a World Council term for the process of gaining information through casual means. Lord Farrow was fourth on the list, and Winter was making it all look effortless.
“I am glad to see your husband wasn’t negatively impacted too badly from his wounds sustained at the Middlethorp estate.” Percy sniffed. “My family and I have decided, in light of the completely horrific and unfounded attack on the consort, wewill no longer be frequenting the Middlethorp estate. Such a dreadful business.”
The urge to snort was huge, but Rupert had learned to hide his true feelings a long time ago. What was different for him - the Silvan ball the first they’d attended since Middlethorp - was that Rupert didn’t feel the need to appease or agree with anything his previous friends were saying anymore. It was like blinkers had been removed from his eyes, and he could see those men’s actions for what they were – a fear of change and difficulty in adapting.
