The Prince's Consort (Chronicles of Tournai Book 1) Page 3

  But he couldn’t believe his father’s proposed solution, or really, the way his father was trying to bribe the prince for more time. His father was… whoring him out to the crown prince of Tournai, telling the prince he could be the first to have Amory.

  What his father said about getting some use out of him suddenly made sense.

  Shock and horror churned in his stomach and made ice of his veins. His thoughts whirled in dizzying circles. Struggling to keep up with the prince as they walked, he no longer saw the beauty of the palace, and hardly realized how close he was to the handsome prince. The only thought he could hold on to was the hope that he wasn’t going to be sick right there. He was embarrassed enough—he could not be sick in front of the prince. Concentrating on the sound of their footsteps, curiously in step, he forced himself to breathe.

  He was so focused he was almost startled when the prince stopped and opened a door, ushering him into the room beyond. Once inside, Amory had no idea what to do.

  A quick glance showed him a sitting room that was nowhere near as ostentatious as the room they’d left. Amory’s family was quite wealthy, and his father’s house reflected their wealth, but the palace was on an entirely different scale. The sitting room didn’t make him uncomfortable, though. He couldn’t say it reminded him of home, because his father’s tastes ran toward keeping up appearances, which always meant something more formal and fashionable than Amory would have chosen. The room was luxurious but comfortable too. Rich fabrics in warm colors covered plush chairs, couches, and pillows, almost inviting a person to curl up there. A thick carpet covered the floor in front of a massive fireplace, and drapes were drawn back from wide windows. Yes, it was a comfortable room, the first room in the palace where he felt that way, and he calmed a little more because of it.

  “Sit, please.”

  He jumped at the unexpected voice. Then something more unexpected—the prince’s hand, gently taking his arm. Amory’s gaze flew up to meet the prince’s, and he found concern and even compassion filling the prince’s eyes, not pity or something more disturbing as he half feared. Those green-gold eyes caught his again, as they had earlier, and he couldn’t seem to look away from them as the prince guided him to a chair. The care was so nice, the hand on his arm so warm, he couldn’t bring himself to complain about being treated like he was made of glass.

  “Can I get you something to drink? Water? Though you could probably use something stronger.”

  The prince’s words were kind, but Amory felt a flash of insult. At least the heat of it burned away more of the shock. “I’m not weak. Your Highness.”

  The prince didn’t seem to take offense to the sharp words. “I never said you were, but you did have a shock.” His expression turned wry around the edges. “We both have.”

  “I suppose we have.”

  Without waiting for more of a reply than that, the prince went to a sideboard and poured two glasses from the decanter sitting there, the distinctive gold color of the liquid marking it as plaire, a liquor unique to Tournai.

  As he sipped from his glass, the liquor smooth and warm and subtly spicy on his tongue, Amory watched the prince. The prince sipped his drink as well and let out a slow breath. Perhaps he was more frazzled than he looked.

  That was reassuring. Knowing the prince had been shocked at his father’s offer made Amory a little less nervous. Not that he wasn’t still worried. His father was trying to sell him to the prince, and Amory didn’t know what the prince would do. He told Amory’s father he wanted to hear Amory’s agreement from him. Did that mean the prince intended to accept his father’s proposal?

  Amory took a large gulp of his drink. Prince Philip was gorgeous with all that thick, dark hair, and the fluid grace of his movements, and those eyes—really amazing eyes. But that didn’t mean Amory wanted to be ordered to share his bed.

  “Do you work with your father and brother?” The prince’s voice broke the silence and Amory jumped again. The prince smiled another of those warm, almost intimate smiles. “I only ask because I haven’t met you before today, but I have met your brother.”

  “No, I don’t work with them. I’ve learned the business, of course, but my father hasn’t asked me to be a part of it. My brother has helped him for years.”

  The prince’s face turned almost sympathetic. Did he realize Amory’s father had never wanted Amory to be a part of the business because Amory was a disappointment to him? But what he said was, “And you thought maybe he finally was by bringing you with him today.”

  It wasn’t a question, but Amory answered anyway. “I did. I didn’t expect….”

  The prince laughed shortly and shook his head. “I didn’t either, though I wasn’t looking forward to meeting with your father. What do you do, then?”

  Amory could imagine why the prince hadn’t wanted to meet with his father. He knew how difficult a man his father could be. “I was taking some classes at the university, but they finished today. And I like to spend time with the craftsmen at the glassworks.”

  The prince grinned. “Have you seen my chandelier, then? Does it exist?”

  That lightning-fast grin made Amory’s insides flip around in strange, but not unpleasant, ways. He managed to smile back. “It exists, Your Highness.”

  “How far behind are they really? Can it be finished in the time your father is asking for?”

  “I don’t know, Your Highness.” But he would have told the prince if he did. “I wasn’t aware they’d fallen behind. With classes ending, I haven’t been there to see it lately. But I’m familiar with the design, of course, and the chandelier was coming along beautifully.”

  The prince’s eyes sharpened. “Are you? How familiar?”

  “Well, Your Highness, I….” Amory had always been miserable at dissembling, and was apparently worse when seated next to a wildly attractive prince. It would have to be the truth then. “The design was my idea.”

  “The design was yours? I thought you said you have no part in the business?”

  “I don’t. My father doesn’t know. I was visiting with the most senior of the glassworkers one day, and he described the commission to me. I sketched out some ideas he ended up liking.”

  “I liked them too.”

  Amory felt his cheeks heat at the praise. “Thank you, Your Highness.”

  “Do you work with the glass too, or only the designs?”

  Amazing that the prince came to the correct conclusion from so little. “Only the designs, Your Highness, and only sometimes. I tried working with glass, but I don’t have the skill for it.” He had wanted to be good at it, despite knowing his father would never allow him to work in the business as a craftsman. Still, he would have liked to be good at it.

  “From what I’ve seen, your creativity with the designs makes up for that. Did you want to work in your family’s business?”

  “It’s what I always expected I would do, what we’re raised to do. But I don’t think it’s ever going to happen, especially not now.” Amory doubted he wanted it to happen after the events of that afternoon, even if it could. His father hadn’t shown himself in a good light, and Amory didn’t think he could go back to the way everything had been before.

  “I suppose not.” The prince’s gaze was keen. “So what is it you do want?”

  “Your Highness?” Amory blinked in confusion.

  “What do you want to do, Amory?” the prince asked again, his eyes earnest. “You could stay here, with me.”

  “I don’t understand, Your Highness.”

  “I told your father I wanted to speak with you alone, that I wanted to hear from you. I wanted to ask you if you might like to stay with me, but not just for tonight.”

  “For how long, then?” Amory was having a difficult time keeping up. Too many strange things were happening that day.

  “A long time, if we’re lucky and we both want. I don’t just want a tumble tonight, Amory.”

  “What do you want, Your Highness?” he asked, suddenly
bold.

  “A friend, a lover,” the prince said, his words simple but stunning, his gaze never wavering from Amory.

  He struggled to find his voice. “And you want that to be me? After what my father did?”

  “Your father’s actions are reprehensible. No one should treat his son the way he’s treating you. But that’s your father, not you.”

  “How do you know I wasn’t a part of his plan?”

  “You weren’t. Everything you felt was written all across your face. Horror was predominant.”

  Amory flushed, again. “I can’t believe he would do this, Your Highness. I have sisters at home—would he do this to one of them? Whore us out for his own gain?” He could hear the bitterness in his own voice, and the anger, the choking worry for his sisters. Then weariness swept through him. “I don’t know how he even knows whether I’ve….”

  “Have you?”

  “Does it matter?”

  “Not to me.”

  The sincerity in the prince’s expression reassured Amory, but it didn’t stop the sudden rush of insecurity. His father was correct. Amory was a virgin with almost no experience to speak of with other men. He had no idea what the prince would expect of him. And right then the prince was watching him, expecting him to say something. “No. I mean, some kissing, but hardly anything beyond that.”

  “I’ve only had one lover.”

  “Really?” That couldn’t be true. He was the prince. He could have anyone he wanted, surely.

  “Yes.” The prince smiled, but it had a self-deprecating quality to it Amory found charming and unexpected. “I don’t want meaningless affairs. For any number of reasons, they don’t appeal to me. So it’s only been the one man. We can take things slowly, get to know each other, see if we suit.”

  “And if we don’t suit, Your Highness? My father is giving me to you. Well, selling me.” If they didn’t suit, what would that mean for Amory? He could be back where he started with the addition of his father’s anger.

  “No, he isn’t. This is between us. He has nothing to do with it. If you decide to stay, it’s your choice alone. And if we find we don’t get on with each other, it will be your choice what you do next.”

  “He’s not going to like that.” An incredible understatement.

  “I don’t find I care what he thinks, though I don’t mean to offend you since he is your father. How old are you?”

  Amory blinked, surprised by the sudden subject change. “Seventeen. Eighteen next week.”

  “Well, then. Next week, you’re of age, and he can’t ever tell you what to do. Until then, I can make sure he doesn’t. So it truly is your choice.”

  He hadn’t thought about it that way. “And you? What would you choose?”

  “I’m asking you to stay,” the prince said. “I think, I hope, there could be something good between us. I’d like to find out. Now, what do you want?”

  The question was devastating because Amory had heard it so rarely in his life.

  The prince seemed honest, and rather endearingly hopeful. As if he hoped Amory would stay but wasn’t sure he would. Amory would have thought a prince would be more confident than Prince Philip appeared, more arrogant. More demanding. But Prince Philip was asking him if he wanted to stay, and giving him choices if he wanted to leave. It was… sweet, if a bit disconcerting.

  What confused him more was that the prince wanted him to stay in the first place. Amory’s father offered the prince a night with Amory, to take his innocence. The prince, who admitted he didn’t have any desire for meaningless affairs, wanted more. With him, Amory.

  And Amory wanted to stay. Not only because he wanted to get away from a father who would barter using his son, but also because he saw something too. Something genuine and good in Prince Philip, and the possibility for something good between them. He didn’t know why, or where the belief came from, but he wanted to see if it could be true. It scared him a little how certain he was of the possibility. He didn’t know the prince at all. As much as Amory’s instincts told him Prince Philip was a good person, he didn’t know it. He couldn’t be sure of the prince from so short a time with him.

  Amory stared into the prince’s eyes while he turned it all over in his mind, but he’d already decided. He wanted to find out if he was right about the prince. He would regret it if he didn’t, would regret not finding out what it could be like between them. He had to know what it felt like to touch the prince, to be touched by him. He wanted to know that very much, too much perhaps.

  “I would like to stay, Your Highness,” Amory began tentatively, “But, will it be all right? What will people say about your keeping a male… I don’t know what word to use.”

  The prince’s eyes softened. “Right now, we’ll say friend, but I’m hoping soon, we can call each other lover. Unmarried princes in the past have had lovers living with them in the palace. It shouldn’t matter that you’re a man. I won’t let it.”

  Amory had his doubts, but the prince would know better than he. “Then I’ll stay, Your Highness.”

  The prince’s smile lit the room, like the sun appearing, and Amory was dazzled looking at him. When he stood and held out a hand, Amory didn’t hesitate to take it and let the prince draw him to his feet. They were close together, so close Amory could feel the heat of the prince’s body. The prince leaned down the few inches separating them and brushed his lips over Amory’s.

  The kiss was light and quick, but utterly stunning. Amory knew his eyes were wide as he stared at the prince, his breath coming faster, a tingle of warmth shimmering over his entire body. All from one chaste kiss. He wondered what would happen when they really kissed.

  The prince’s eyes were wide as well as he watched Amory. Had it felt the same to him? It had barely been a kiss, but it felt like a start. Maybe even a promise. As the prince bent to kiss him again, it definitely felt like a promise.

  THE SECOND kiss still wasn’t more than the tender slide of lips over lips, but it wasn’t as brief, nor as innocent as the first. Amory’s lips were soft against his, his body warm and fitting just right against Philip’s as he pulled Amory closer. The kiss was perfect, as the first had been. It felt as if he’d been waiting for the kiss, for the man, for years, and at that moment everything had fallen into place. It felt as if they were the only two people in the world for those moments, and the feeling was wonderful.

  He shivered when Amory’s hands came up to caress over his biceps and settle on his shoulders. He didn’t try to deepen the kiss, just held Amory’s trim waist and let the kiss spin out between them, despite wanting to take it further, to devour Amory’s sweet mouth. He wanted to do more than that, to urge Amory down to the couch or to carry him off to bed. His fevered imagination gave him many ideas for what they could do there.

  But he needed to take his time with Amory. Amory was inexperienced and plainly shaken by what his father had done. He needed the time to settle in, to become calm and comfortable again. And it wasn’t only for Amory that they should go slow. He wanted it for himself too. He wanted time to get to know Amory, to find out if he was right about the man. Despite wanting to carry him off to bed right then.

  He broke the kiss with some difficulty but couldn’t bring himself to step back from Amory. It had been a long time since his affair with Vasco ended, and Amory felt so good against him, better than Vasco had. But he didn’t want to think about his old lover then. He nuzzled into Amory’s hair and breathed him in for a moment as Amory shuddered against him.

  He looked into Amory’s eyes. They were wide and dark, somehow both surprised and filled with desire. Philip bit back a groan and forced himself not to dive back in for another kiss.

  “So you’re staying?”

  Amory smiled, a slow, sweet smile that hit Philip right in the stomach. “Yes, I’m staying.”

  “Good.” He made himself step back. “We should get back before they start to wonder what we’re doing.”

  Amory laughed. “I’m sure my father is
already wondering, Your Highness.”

  “All the more reason.”

  The walk back a few moments later was much more relaxed than their earlier walk had been.

  “When we go back into that room,” he said into the silence as they walked, “stand near me.”

  Amory turned to look at him, his brows pulled together in a frown. “I doubt he could grab me and make me go.”

  “That’s not why.” He wasn’t sure how to explain why he wanted Amory at his side and not at Amory’s father’s without sounding either pathetic or domineering. Neither was a way he wanted Amory to see him.

  Amory looked at him for another moment and then nodded. The dawning understanding in his eyes telling Philip that Amory knew somehow. “All right.”

  Amazing.

  The scene in the red receiving room was almost amusing. Cathal didn’t seem to have moved an inch since Philip and Amory left. Arnau glared at Cathal, his face red, a vein visibly throbbing in his forehead. Alban was still at his father’s shoulder, less than calm himself. Though Cathal’s expression would tell most people nothing, Philip knew his cousin well enough to see the signs. Cathal was about to lose his considerable patience. He suddenly wished he were back in the sitting room, alone with Amory.

  “Gentlemen.” As the three men in the room turned to face them, he took Amory’s arm, and walked to his chair. Amory let himself be guided to stand at Philip’s right, mirroring the position Cathal still occupied on the other side, but Amory stood a step closer. Philip liked that he did.

  “Your Highness—”

  “Yes, Master Arnau.” He cut the blustering man off before Arnau could get started. His own patience with the man had run out about the time he made his disgusting offer. “You protest. Yet I fail to see why. You were the one to suggest that I might enjoy spending some time with your son.”

  “I did, Your Highness.” Master Arnau’s voice became almost conciliatory. Did he see how close he was to angering Philip? “And I still do. However, I did not think you and my son would spend time alone together so soon, and before we discussed anything. He is my son, Your Highness, and quite young.”