Chapter Six #2
“Thank you for saying so. But I’m a guard in addition to a prince, so I’m used to roughing it more than you might expect.
I also fully understand how long it takes to clean rooms that may not have been used in a while.
” He offered a wry smile. “I’d be perfectly happy to take the very, er, scenic way to my rooms if that will give everyone a few more minutes to get everything prepared. ”
Her eyes flickered to his face, a break in the calm demeanor that she was exuding and something that looked like a smile starting in her eyes and the corner of her lips, though it never formed fully. He wondered if someone had taught her it wasn’t appropriate in front of royalty.
It was the first thing he’d like to change—but he didn’t suppose that was an option.
Marry someone like Terila, and he’d be stuck at her castle with her rules.
Marry someone who wasn’t firstborn, and he’d be stuck with his brother and Fernila.
Tor loved his brother, he really did, but it had become increasingly clear over recent years that living together was far from ideal.
It was no doubt why Varex had thought the position of captain of the guard was going to work so well, granting responsibility and a reason to travel.
But that had ended practically before it had begun, because his brother didn’t believe in second chances or explanations or anything but blaming Tor for everything.
Tor didn’t feel like he fit in any of the realms, if he was being perfectly truthful, and he wasn’t sure where that left him.
Or, rather, he knew exactly where: appearing to be courting Prince Pelun to convince Varex that, after all, it was better not to try to force his brother to marry anyone but instead to simply leave him be.
Then he could keep visiting Ada, and maybe he really would visit each of the realms and learn more about them. That would keep him occupied and out of the castle at Nexa, which surely Fernila would like.
Yes, this was going to work. Tor was here in Tond, and he already had a flurry of people prepping rooms for him and no doubt in the kitchen trying to come up with something extra special for dinner.
He’d put a lot of people to work, and he needed to make sure that it was for a good reason.
Tor needed to stay committed to his plan.
He noticed that their steps had gotten a bit slower, and he was pretty sure that this was the second time that they’d gone through this particular corridor, because he recognized the tapestry that was hanging along the wall.
It had a particularly difficult-to-decipher design on it.
He squinted at it again. Were the figures supposed to be at a picnic?
Were they eating on a particularly flat table?
He was reasonably certain it was meant to be depicting people gathered around a table-like something in the middle, but he was having trouble working it out.
“If we go by a third time, I daresay I’ll have figured it out by then,” he said with a gesture at the tapestry.
Her lips quirked, and Tor suppressed a grin.
“They’re building the castle,” she said matter-of-factly.
Tor craned his head back. “No, are you sure?”
“Quite sure, Your Highness,” she said primly.
“No, no,” he protested, “we’re going to have to go back and look. I’ll never be satisfied now unless I see it for myself.”
When she saw that he was serious, although she looked bemused, she nevertheless changed directions and led him back to the tapestry. He stared at it, squinting and tilting his head this way and that, trying to make sense of it.
And then she pointed. “Those are the foundations.”
He shifted his head again, and suddenly, it was like the image sprang into place.
“Ooh!” he said triumphantly. “Of course. What an odd angle.”
Now that he knew what he was looking at, he could see it all the time, but from straight on, it still looked more like a table than the beginnings of a building. He blinked, stepped back a few steps, and scrutinized it carefully.
“You should bring all the guests by this one,” he told her. “It’s fascinating.”
“I’ll keep that in mind, Your Highness.”
Her expression was neutral, but her eyes were dancing, and Tor felt certain she was laughing on the inside, which was good enough for him.
He liked it when the people around him were happy, but he didn’t want to mess with the standard of behavior she was expected to adhere to here.
And for all Tor knew, the servants all led very happy, very fulfilled lives that simply included hours at work where there wasn’t a lot of smiling and laughing.
Or maybe she was on her best behavior for a High Prince.
Tor shouldn’t presume that he knew anything about their lives just from these little snippets.
Except that she had laughing eyes, and Tor suspected that she would be happier if she were laughing more frequently.
“We’re almost there,” she finally announced.
“How lovely,” Tor said. “How long do you think it will take me to get down to dinner? Just so I have an idea of how much time I need to dedicate to the endeavor. An hour? Two?”
She let out something that was distinctly a snort of amusement, but she covered it with a cough. Tor tried not to smirk, absurdly pleased with himself.
“Oh, I think you’d better plan for two hours, Your Highness. It seems to me that you don’t do anything quickly.”
She looked almost as surprised as he was that the words had come out of her mouth. Pink rushed to her cheeks, but he only grinned at her.
“You have siblings.”
She still looked altogether embarrassed. “Yes.”
He nodded. That was exactly the sort of sass he expected from a sibling. “I bet they have to work to keep up with you.”
She looked like she didn’t know how to respond to this. Tor had definitely meant it as a compliment.
“As for me, I don’t see the value of rushing when it would be more fun to take my time. But I’ve also rushed off half-cocked,” he confessed ruefully. “It all depends on my mood and what I’m trying to accomplish. I’ll do my best for dinner.”
She smiled back at him tentatively. He was pretty sure he was shattering the notions of how a prince should act.
“I’m Torex, by the way.”
She gave him a look that said, “Obviously,” as clearly as if she’d spoken the words, but she smiled faintly.
“I’m Lashuna, Your Highness. Someone will show you the way tonight.” Her lips twitched. “And I daresay they might even use the direct route.”
“Our scenic route has been quite epic in scope,” he agreed.
Once she peered at him and ascertained that he wasn’t upset, she allowed another little grin to peek out. “All of the best tapestries, Your Highness. And a number of the choicest staircases.”
Tor laughed outright. “Oh, I hadn’t realized there was much to choose from in staircases. You should have pointed them out.”
“I beg your pardon, Your Highness,” she responded with just a little bit of sass. “I’ll be certain to do that next time.”
He let it go for a moment and then couldn’t help asking, “What makes a staircase choice?”
She offered him a look of such astonishment that he really thought she was serious for a moment when she told him, “Why, everything! Windows, whether the stairs are straight or winding, how deep the tread is, how much it’s worn away.
How narrow they are. Whether there’s a railing.
Whether there are a number of other people taking the stairs who are in more of a hurry than you are. ”
Grinning, Tor conceded, “My goodness. I see that I haven’t thought it through sufficiently. I’ll have to take a look at all the staircases when I get home. Now I wonder if a number of them need repairs.”
Her eyes were a little startled as they raised to his, but seeing his smile, she returned it as she assured him, “You get used to it.”
Tor imagined that they did, but that didn’t mean they should have to.
Then again, they had an excellent steward in the castle in Nexa, and it was entirely possible that she had this well in hand and there was never a danger of slipping down a staircase that was not in perfect repair.
Just because Tor had never thought about it before didn’t mean that no one else had.
But now that it had been brought to his attention, he wanted to check.
It was funny how your perspective could shift when you least expected it.
“Here we are, Your Highness.”
The royal suite was large, though smaller than the ones in Lotar and Vayrin.
Everything gleamed with that just-polished look that confirmed Tor’s arrival had been an inconvenience.
He grimaced, because it hadn’t bothered him about surprising King Forex, but he hadn’t thought about the work he’d generate for the staff.
Maybe the stable hand really had been rude with reason.
Tor had been a prince since he was born, and he’d become High Prince soon after he turned ten. He’d known that he had a lot of privilege, but he may not have realized the extent to which he took things for granted.
“Your clothes have been taken away to be pressed, Your Highness,” Lashuna told him. “They will be returned in time for you to dress for dinner.”
“Excellent. Thank you.”
“Is there anything else you need?”
He shook his head. “No, everything looks lovely.”
“Perhaps you’d like to rest before dinner?”
Yes, he really should let everyone scurry around and prepare for his last-minute addition.
“A wise idea.”
“As I said, someone will arrive to escort you to dinner, Your Highness.” And then, with a bow, she was gone.
The sitting room had comfy chairs, a couch, and a desk and chair.
Plus, there was a fireplace with a cheery fire blazing.
The stone certainly held in the chill. The walls were covered in tapestries, these ones brighter than the ones in the corridor.
A pastoral scene, the mountains, a forest, and the castle.
Several oil lamps were lit, but there were also crystal lights just waiting for someone Extraordinary to light them.
It felt a bit like showing off to light them just for himself, but they gave a superior light to any other option.
So he went round the room and touched each crystal, pushing a bit of his magic into the round orb.
He could do it without touching the crystals, and he could even leave globs of magic glowing in sconces on their own, but that felt even more pretentious than this option.
There was something about the crystal which magnified the effect of the magic, making it last longer than it would on its own.
It would be really useful if only it worked for Illustrious and Unremarkable as well.
Extraordinary made up such a small percentage of the population that it was very nearly just a fashionable feature of royal castles.
The room was soon lit with a warm white light, and Tor shook his head at himself, because he really did prefer that steady bright glow.
He was definitely spoiled.
He stepped into the bedroom and lit all those crystals as well. The room had a moderately high ceiling, a canopied bed—blue velvet—a large wardrobe, and another active fireplace.
The bed was huge, and it was a shame that Tor wasn’t going to get to make proper use of it. Well. His lips tipped up. There was no saying what he and Prince Pelun could get up to once they made it to that point. Tor had high hopes.
He prowled around the space, checked to see that yes, indeed, all his clothes were gone, but his shaving kit and few essentials had all been neatly arranged at the vanity.
He finally flopped back onto the bed and tucked his hands behind his head. He stared up at the canopy. The curtains were all tied back in daylight, but they would definitely help retain the heat at night.
He wasn’t sure how long the castle would stay chilly. Would he be here long enough to see spring arrive properly here in the north? His brother was too stubborn to see reason immediately, but Tor was sure he could outlast him.
And the more he thought about it, the more it seemed like he could really do some good with this visit.
Less than Tor’s lifetime ago, they’d been at war.
A visiting royal wasn’t necessarily an ally, though hopefully not an enemy.
There was a good reason for all of them to be visiting one another, for the alliances that Varex wanted—Tor just thought there were all sorts of ways to maintain alliances.
Did Tor actually need to marry someone from Vayrin or Tond?
Or anywhere? Couldn’t he instead do more of what he had inadvertently done on this journey?
It was a pretext, what he’d told Forex, but did it need to be?
Couldn’t he address concerns and have bonds of friendship that didn’t require actual magical bonding?
It was going to be an uphill battle to convince Varex, but perhaps Tor would be able to kill two birds with one stone.
He trusted that Varex would believe that bonding Tor to Prince Pelun wasn’t the most strategic option, but maybe Tor could still demonstrate his ability to make connections.
They didn’t get out here as often as they should; Tor could change that, could make a difference in this realm just by his unexpected presence.
If it worked, maybe he could spend more time with Gornexi and their wife next.
If they could all agree that he wasn’t meant to marry Terila, he wouldn’t even mind spending time in Vayrin, either. Filon would be a struggle, thanks to Nostex and his chatter, but for the greater good, Tor would do it. Maybe he could solve all their problems by spending more time visiting.
Well, maybe not all their problems, but do a much better job with diplomacy, at least.
He sank further back into the pillow, breathing out slowly, feeling tension he hadn’t realized he was carrying release.
He hadn’t had the chance to do much good as the captain of the guard—and that had all been obliterated by how it had ended—but he could also acknowledge he hadn’t done as much with his position as High Prince as he could have.
This was a chance to prove himself in more ways than one.
Yes, Tor was going to do it, even if it meant sleeping in every set of royal apartments in every realm.
He was still staring at the canopy of the bed when there was a discreet little tap at the door.
“Come!” Tor called out.