Loving the Forbidden Prince

ETAN

He was beginning to almost enjoy being placed at the back of the banquet hall—it allowed him a great deal more freedom than if he'd been placed near the other nobles and rulers, and their endless politicking. But he burned for the dishonor to his parents every time he was forced to enter the room and make his way back, to see his father seated with his own court, but nowhere near anyone else that might be of political help.

More agreements and alliances were formed at parties and feasts, than anywhere else, his father had taught him. The casual conversation with another ruler was never casual. Etan was wise to pay close attention.

Yet, here his parents were, restricted to the lesser nobles and advisors, while the other rulers gathered together near the head table.

It set Etan's teeth on edge.

"Stop scowling at people," his mother said quietly, not looking up from her plate.

Etan took a deep breath and turned back to his own food, though he couldn't taste a bite. He could see Ayleth, and she looked… uneasy.

Had something happened?

Borsche appeared at his side suddenly. It was the third time he'd left the table since they'd sat down.

Etan waited until his parents' attention was on each other, then looked at his man. "What's going on?"

"Nothing that won't please you," Borsche said, shoveling food down as if he might not have time to get to it all. "Let's just say the lines of negotiation have been… opened up."

Etan frowned. "What lines? With whom?"

But just then, the clink of a knife on a goblet grabbed everyone's attention. Along with the others, Etan turned to find Ayleth's Knight Defender standing below the head table, calling for attention.

"Lords, Ladies, Heirs, and Rulers," he boomed with a general's command of a room. "The showing of the Heirs at the sports was greatly received by all—your generosity and gamesmanship are applauded."

Everyone clapped, a few of the younger Lords who'd competed, made calls. Etan rolled his eyes.

"Looking ahead to the Peace Accord and the unique agreement we will all experience in its wake, the Kingdom of Zenithra would offer all Heirs who intend to fight in the closing tournament an opportunity to train with me, and select men, in preparation."

Etan frowned. What was the man doing?

"If you wish to join us, for the next two weeks, we'll have daily training sessions at daybreak at the Soldier's barracks."

Many groans rose in the room, most Heirs weren't accustomed to leaving their beds until the sun was well on its way up. Not to mention that many would not want to train with a competing Kingdom's Defender—they'd believe their strengths and weaknesses would be too easily identified. And as a master strategist, Ayleth's man would know that.

What was he up to?

Etan looked at Borsche, who was still eating and apparently not paying attention. Which was even stranger. Borsche normally spent every waking moment calculating the moves Etan needed, and trying to predict what the other Kingdoms were up to.

Something was going on. Etan put his fork down and stared at Borsche until the man finally raised his eyebrows and turned, fork halfway to his mouth. "What?"

"What are you up to?" Etan growled.

"Me?"

"Yes, you. Why aren't you scowling at Falek and trying to figure out what he thinks he's achieving—none of the Heirs are going to train with him—and at daybreak!"

"You are," Borsche said under his breath.

"What?!"

His parents heard his tone and stopped their conversation to turn and look at him. "What is it, son?" his father asked.

Etan stared at Borsche who stared calmly back. "Just my man getting a little above himself," Etan said without taking his eyes off Borsche.

Borsche snorted and went back to eating.

His father smiled and winked at Etan. "We all need someone to keep us humble. Until you have a wife, I'd say that's his job," and he went back to speaking with Etan's mother.

Etan want back to eating until they were distracted again, then muttered so only Borsche would hear. "You will explain this."

Borsche nodded once. "Certainly, sire. Though you will have to give me some instruction on how I should do so. I would hate to get above myself again."

Etan rolled his eyes.

*****

AYLETH

She was startled to see her Knight Defender, the Captain of the Guard, call attention to himself in the Banquet Hall. He usually preferred to stay beneath notice. She was even more startled to hear his proclamation—training sessions? In the early morning? What Heir was going to take him up on that—a competitor's trainer? Who could then assess their ability?

What was Falek doing?

A murmur arose in the Heirs and their courts, with many shaking heads and quick jokes. Ayleth burned for the way they looked at her Knight with such contempt. But she knew Falek didn't make moves like this without purpose. She met his gaze as he returned to his seat, and he nodded once. He would explain later.

Ayleth returned to her meal, and the uncomfortable questions from her mother about Lord Trystan. So far she hadn't had to lie, which was a relief. But she'd skirted the line.

She was exhausted by the end of the meal and excused herself as soon as she could do so politely. On her way out, she beckoned Falek to attend her, and he leapt from his seat to follow her from the room.

She talked towards her chambers, Falek behind her, so anyone who observed them would assume he was merely guarding her as she returned to rest. But the hair on the back of her neck was beginning to stand up.

Falek did nothing without great thought. What had he put in motion this evening?

When they reached her chambers, she made a quick circuit to ensure there were no servants at work, then closed the door and turned on him, hands on her hips.

"What was that about?"

He stood in the center of her sitting room and looked like he was fighting a smile. "What, Princess?"

"The training? Announcing it like that? Everyone knows none of them would train with you regularly anyway, but first thing in the morning? Most of them are still sleeping off their hangovers!"

"You speak truth, Ayleth."

She stared at him, and he stared back. "So, what is it? What are you doing?"

He regarded her for a moment. "I'm finding your solitude, Ayleth."

She frowned. "What?"

"Go to bed early tonight. You'll be getting up early in the morning. I'll explain then."

And then he left! Ayleth stared at this back as he marched out the door, expecting it to be a joke, that he would turn and laugh and say he was just teasing, but no. He closed the door quietly behind his bulk and did not reappear.

Ayleth wanted to stomp her foot. Only knowing how foolish she would feel afterwards stopped her.

What was going on? How did an early morning training gain her solitude?

And why did Falek look so smug when he said it?

With a groan, she stomped into her bedchamber and readied herself for bed, not even calling a maid. The earlier she got to sleep, the earlier she would find the answers to her questions.