William knocked on the door of the prince's apartments, and a servant opened it and led him into the bedroom.
The prince stood as servants dressed him; his hair was still damp from the bath, and his bare chest all muscle and sun-kissed skin.
William swallowed, his mouth suddenly dry. The urge to trace that body with the tips of his fingers made his stomach clenched.
As soon as the prince saw him, he smiled. "Will! See? I'm up on time."
William held back a smile. "You look like a child."
"I'm just excited for tonight."
"I didn't think you liked banquets."
"Not particularly, but there's something important I have to do."
He had to be referring to the speech before the court, the one in which he would formally accept his role as Crown Prince. William hadn't thought he cared that much.
"Have you already written it?"
The prince gave him a puzzled look. "Written what?"
"The speech."
"Oh, that. More or less, but if you want to take a look, it's on my desk." He gestured toward the adjoining room while the servants finished buttoning his shirt. "You can correct it if you like."
William retrieved the text the prince had written. He read it a couple of times and found it solid. He made just a few adjustments to tone and rhythm, but the prince had done a good job.
"Well?"
His voice brushed William's ear, and his heart leapt into his throat.
"It's good," William murmured. "I've only… tidied up a few details. Minor things."
The prince rested his chin on William's shoulder and glanced at the sheets in his hands. His chest pressed against William's back, his toned muscles as if carved from marble.
"You have nice handwriting." The low, measured tone vibrated through William's bones. "Better than mine."
William swallowed. "Would you like to learn it now?"
"Do we have time?"
"A bit." He ignored the hand brushing his side and turned to face him. "You're far more capable than you think. You should have more confidence in yourself."
The prince blinked, then his expression softened. "Coming from you, that's a truly precious compliment."
"I'm not that harsh."
"You are, and I like you anyway."
The prince stepped back, and cold filled the space between their bodies. William wished he hadn't, but it would have been selfish. They were never truly alone—never in that building, and not at that hour of the morning. Not even when the prince dismissed the servants.
His Highness straightened his jacket and ran his fingers through his hair. "How do I look?"
"Impeccable."
He laughed. "I was hoping you'd say charming."
The prince returned to the bedroom and opened a jewelry box. He took out a silver circlet with a ruby set at its center and placed it on his head.
He turned to William with a smile. "And now?"
"You're… stunning."
But William wanted to tell him he was the most beautiful man he had ever seen—that he was so when wearing a prince's garments, or those of a seasoned soldier. That he loved him regardless.
But those were hard words to say. He always felt they might break the spell he was living in.
Maybe he should tell him.
Maybe the prince was just waiting for William to confess.
"Shall we go?"
William nodded and handed him the papers. The prince slipped them into the inner pocket of his jacket, and together they left the room.
They crossed the palace to the High Hall.
The servants had decorated it with garlands of flowers and golden draperies; the floor was so polished it reflected the glow of the crystals hanging from the ceiling.
The prince greeted the courtiers present with a nod, then leaned toward William.
"I'm already hating all of this."
"You're truly incorrigible."
"When I'm king, remind me to send all these people away."
"You can't do that, Your Highness. Your political power depends on them."
The prince huffed and took the seat prepared for him beside the king's throne. For a while they both remained silent as the hall began to fill.
"Will my father be here?"
"I don't know. Would you like me to ask?"
A strange expression darkened his blue eyes. "No, forget it."
"Your Highness, is everything all right?"
"Yes, don't worry."
The prince smiled at him, but it seemed only a pale reflection of the cheerful man he had come to know.
Something was troubling him, but William couldn't understand what. Just moments before, he had seemed calm, and nothing had happened that might have distressed him.
Had he argued with the king?
"If you don't need me, I'll take my leave."
"Stay." The prince gestured to his side. "You can do that, can't you?"
William glanced toward the royal advisors; Lord Ballard shot him an annoyed grimace. He could—the protocol allowed it—but none of them would appreciate it.
Yet he couldn't abandon the prince either, especially now that the king had not yet appeared.
He sighed and positioned himself behind the high-backed seat.
The court herald rang the silver bell, and silence fell over the hall.
"Your Majesty will not be present," the man announced. "His Royal Highness Crown Prince Alexander will preside."
The prince frowned, and William stiffened. Deep down, he had hoped the king would be there, but he must have been detained somewhere.
Or perhaps he had decided to test his son before the assembled court.
The guests entered one after another, announced by the court herald, and the prince welcomed them with warmth and measured words.
Everyone's eyes were fixed on the future ruler—their gazes calculating and attentive. Like birds of prey waiting for a misstep to pounce on their quarry.
William scanned the hall, but the signs of approval were few and lukewarm. Despite the prince's impeccable behavior, no one seemed particularly impressed.
He clenched his fists, and his jaw tightened in anger.
The court herald cleared his throat and rang the silver bell again.
"The court welcomes Lady Roselin Lynden and her daughter Eloisa."
The noblewoman who had helped them against Reyne in Astya made her entrance, her body wrapped in a black mourning dress and one hand tightly holding her daughter's. The little girl looked around nervously; it must have been the first time she had seen so many people.
They reached the center of the hall and both bowed.
The prince stood, and William went pale.
"Your Highness, no," he whispered, but Alex did not listen and did the very last thing he should have done.
He stepped down from the platform.
Lord Ballard's lips curved into a self-satisfied smirk.
"Welcome," the prince exclaimed, then knelt in front of the child. "Eloisa, right? I'm Prince Alex."
She offered an awkward curtsy. "It's nice to be here, Your Highness. You are handsome too."
"And you are very graceful."
The girl smiled. "Thank you!"
Lady Lynden inclined her head. "Thank you for the welcome, Your Highness. And for defending Astya from the mage."
The prince rose. "I did my duty. I could never have forgiven myself if anything had happened to you." He brought a hand to his chest and bowed slightly. "And allow me to offer my condolences. Your husband was a good man; his death saddens us all."
"Thank you. I will do my best to uphold the honor of the Lynden name."
William glanced toward the royal advisors. Some of them were shaking their heads; they had not appreciated the prince's violation of protocol at all.
No royal ever stepped down from the platform.
But the prince had done it, and William should have reprimanded him.
He hated doing so—it always made him feel as though he were being pushed farther away from the prince.
His Highness took his leave of Lady Lynden and returned to his seat. He shot William a brief glance, then looked toward the advisors. He grimaced; he must have realized what he had just done.
The rest of the audience passed quickly, and when the court herald rang the bell again, the prince stood and left the hall.
William moved to follow him with the rest of the nobles, but someone grabbed him by the arm.
Lord Ballard gave him a sharp smile. "Would you mind following me, mage?"
"Actually, yes. His Highness is waiting for me."
"I'm quite certain the prince can do without your company for a few minutes."
He released William's wrist and walked ahead, out of the hall. William had no choice but to follow.
The advisor led him into a small sitting room and closed the door as soon as the mage stepped inside.
And for a brief moment, William felt trapped.
Lord Ballard sat down on the small sofa but did not invite him to do the same. "You are very close to the prince, am I right?"
"I am his mage."
"But you are not noble. You don't even come from a wealthy family."
William frowned. "I am a mage. What matters is that I know how to weave spells."
"You are a royal advisor. You should guide him as well, especially since you seem to be the only one he truly listens to."
"I wouldn't say that. His Highness tends to act on his own."
"Like today?" Lord Ballard smiled wryly. "A good advisor would have stopped him."
"I tried."
"You didn't do enough."
William pressed his lips together. "What do you want from me?"
"I have a proposal for you." He crossed his legs. "Tell the king you wish to resign from your post. Your Majesty will refuse; you will ask to put it to a vote in the Council, and I will make sure I have the majority. That way you can return to whatever remote fortress they dragged you from, and His Highness will have a real advisor and not…" He grimaced. "A commoner."
"I refuse."
Lord Ballard frowned. "If I were you, I would think it over."
"I don't need to. His Highness has placed his trust in me, and I have no intention of betraying it."
"Why do you want to hurt yourself, boy?"
"Are you threatening me, advisor?"
"I'm warning you."
"I don't need it." William turned toward the door. "His Highness is not a fool, and I will make sure he gains the support he needs to rule."
"You are setting yourself against the entire Council."
"I don't care." He shot him a look full of disgust. "The prince is not your pawn. And he never will be."
Then he left and hurried down the corridor.
His heart pounded in his chest; fear made his hands tremble and his breathing quicken. For a long moment, he feared that Lord Ballard might attack him, and that feeling of being trapped had not yet faded.
He turned the corner and collided with someone. "My apologies, I—"
The prince gave him a warm smile that chased away the fear still clutching at his heart. "Will! I've been looking for you everywhere. Where were you?"
"I was… with Lord Ballard."
William took a step back to pull away, but the prince held him by the elbows. The smile on his handsome face faded, replaced by a hint of concern.
Without saying a word, he pushed him past the nearest door.
The mage stumbled over the threshold and turned toward him. "Your Highness, what—"
The prince embraced him, his warm, strong hands firm at his nape and hips. And William felt the fear leave him completely.