“Not at all. As Stamel said, he believes they’re misbehaving because you haven’t been around to see them. What would you be doing with the nymphs to make them want to cause chaos?” As usual, Alluin put the blame of the situation on him, exactly why he never told his father he held a good relationship with the creatures. They knew of his gender, which was a moderate risk, but they knew better than to spread his secrets as he did offer them their favored honey.
“I’m quite certain I’ve done nothing of the sort. It’s likely some of the youth felt they were unsupervised long enough. I’ll speak with the nymphs and bring some honey, make sure none of the hunters are trespassing.” Seidrik gave his father a respectful bow and earned a hum of feigned disapproval.
“See to it at once. Guard, you are dismissed for the day.” Alluin waved a hand dismissively and turned to Stamel. “Please ensure the palace storehouse gives you what you need. And once again, thank you. Your contributions are very much appreciated.”
Alluin turned and strode off, his personal attendant following behind him at the requisite four steps at a stooped caper that Seidrik often regarded as asinine.
“Come, Seidrik. Let us get out of this armor and have a merry little jaunt out to the woods to see why the lovely nymphs are doing away with the source of your paste food fodder.” Stamel blanched a little and Seidrik followed, keeping a few steps behind Stamel until he turned and tapped his shoulder. He gestured for Seidrik to walk in line with him. In a low voice, almost a whisper, Stamel said, “Walk by my side. I won’t have it said that I mated an inferior male. What I own is precious.”
Seidrik’s heart fluttered, and cheeks burned fiercely. He cleared his throat and held his head up, keeping at Seidrik’s side as they returned to the armory.
Like he owned the place, Stamel hung up his set, a placeholder for the one that Alluin had commissioned. It’d be ready in weeks and would no doubt be finer than Seidrik’s, which was more for show than anything else. A polished hand-me-down of his father’s from when he was younger and thinner.
From there, they went to the storehouse, obtaining the requisite honey. The storekeeper talliedthe jars out with perfunctory flicks of his pen and offered Seidrik a half smile. “I take it that our king has informed you of the issues at hand?”
“I’ve received what information he was given. Please elaborate if you have anything else to add.” Seidrik rocked on the balls of his feet, and the keeper leaned in conspiratorially.
“Well, sir, you didn’t hear it from me, but it’s said that some of the guard has been going out hunting for summer pheasants and were picking the wild climbing cherries the nymphs treasure.” He cleared his throat.
The cherries were a known aphrodisiac and had been all but banned in the kingdom as the only stable supply of them grew where nymphs tended them. Seidrik had been offered them occasionally by the odd nymph wishing him a good dicking, but he’d ultimately refused. The nymphs seemed very preoccupied, as a whole, with his love life.
“I see. Stamel, if we verify this, please speak with the men about boundaries?” Seidrik stiffened and nodded a thanks to the keeper, arms laden with jars.
Stamel gave him a polite nod before helping himself to a few of the containers, making light of Seidrik’s load. “More hands, less work. Unless children are involved.”
The storekeeper snorted in agreement.
Seidrik humored a slight laugh and halted as the storekeeper spoke out of turn. “I must say, my prince, you do seem in better spirits. Whatever has changed since your visit to Croatens, I say it’s for the better.”
Seidrik waved a hand over his shoulder, not giving the statement any further elaboration. Perhaps his mask of indifference wasn’t thick enough. Or perhaps Stamel’s presence was too great. Either way, he had to focus on work.
They took a carriage to the outskirts of the kingdom toward the farming areas, stopping twice asStamel had to aid in hauling flaxsheep back to the nearest open fences. The reasoning behind it said that if the sheep were in the wrong space, whoever discovered them would likely return them and it’d be safer than letting them roam free where any knave or wildercat could snatch a free meal.
“It would have been so much easier to have flown,” Stamel said as he disembarked the carriage at the edge of the forest.
“There are two options, and one would have me as good as executed, and the other would bring me no end of shame.” Seidrik stared at the forest as the carriage retreated to the nearest village to wait for them to signal. Seidrik had worried they’d wait around, but the rumors of angry nymphs made the driver far more cautious.
It was a familiar stroll for Seidrik. One he’d made with his mother what must have been a hundred times. One he’d made alone a thousand more. And once, he’d seen Stamel there and changed his future forever. One childish peck of a kiss denied him the lifetime of hiding as a beta he promised himself.
They split the load of honey between them, and Seidrik called out, “Good day, nymphs! I request safe passage through your land for company and to unload myself of all this heavy honey.”
Birds chirping in the trees, insects rustling wings, and the shuffle of the forest floor went quiet for an eerie moment until the distant giggle of playful spirits grew closer. “Seidrik has returned!”
“Awfully familiar, aren’t they?” Stamel laughed as voices and cheers of delight all culminated into silence as a single lily-white nymph drifted before him. “You return.”
Seidrik bowed and held out one of the jars of honey. “Apologies for my absence. I had orders from the king.”
“You’re not the only absent one returned. Our queen’s princeling has returned from his life journey.” The white nymph that Seidrik had called Cottonbalm smiled wide.
A nymph was permitted to leave their forest once. There, they would search the world for a new home, or return to their homeland. Some found love and were never allowed back. “I don’t recall Her Majesty’s prince. Perhaps an introduction would be in order if deemed appropriate.” Seidrik remembered his mother’s words well, to never ask anything of nymphs.
“Perhaps. If he wishes to see you, he will find you.” She smiled and took the jar of honey, eagerly fretting with the lid before dipping a finger in for a long taste. “Amberfly. You are too sweet. So, what has brought you with offerings, Seidrik?”
“I sought to relax for a little while,” he’d said as a code for letting his wings out. “And I wished to inquire about mischief with our flaxsheep and bellflower crops.”
“Ah, the young ones are stirring up chaos as punishment.” She shook her head in dismay. “Your men need to keep away.”
“Is it King Alluin’s guards doing so?”
