“Ha! I’m laughing to avoid crying.”
Captain Rowan grinned, not at all abashed about the fact that he’d just chased his boss around the training hall. Fucker.
Also, clearly, I needed to spar more. I felt woefully inadequate in this fight, and he was literally pausing to let me get my wind back, which was just embarrassing.
“You’re off the hook,” Captain Rowan said, stepping back and unlocking our hilts. “Collins just came in.”
“So not only are you good enough to chase me around but also to keep track of your surroundings while doing so? Dammit, man, there’s no need to twist the knife in my ego. It’s already lodged up to the hilt.”
He gave me a condescending pat on the shoulder, then took the training sword from my hand and sauntered off.
I wiped sweat off my forehead and turned, watching Sir Collins approach.
The knight stripped off his uniform jacket as he moved, observing me with a commiserating look. “Captain get you?”
“Man’s a storm on legs,” I insisted. “I stood no chance. Does anyone actually beat him?”
“Not us, that’s for sure.” Sir Collins shrugged. “He keeps sparring with us because he claims the only way to get better is through practice. Mind you, none of us can beat him despite all that practice. I think he’s usingusfor practice.”
“I wouldn’t be the least bit surprised. All right, let’s get you a bow.”
Sir Collins gave me a look askance. “You’re not joining me? You normally do.”
“I have to restring mine. Don’t mind that. I’ll set you up to practice first.”
One thing was for sure, my anger had abated for the moment, so the practice session had done me good in that sense. I felt ready to train Sir Collins. He was truly talented and had a very good chance of winning.
After I trained him, though, I’d take a nap.
Twenty-three
Edwin
It was, once again, a late workday. Part of it was time—we just didn’t have enough time to get all the plans in place before winter hit. Even though we were in spring now, I felt like fall was right around the corner. The winters could be brutal here, especially right on the edge of the sea like this, so things shut down come late Tenth Month. No helping that. It meant a shorter season to get work done, though, and Prince James apparently intended to cram as much as possible into a single workday rather than wait for next spring.
Considering how much he helped other people—citizens in desperate need of help—I couldn’t scold him for keeping me late at work more often than not. It was nearly seven o’clock now, I’d just finished a hasty dinner from the palace kitchens, and I estimated that if I focused, I miiiiight be out of here by nine. Maybe. I’d certainly try. I had a good book waiting for me at home and I had every intention of starting it tonight.
This plan died an immediate death upon reaching my desk.
I stared underneath, head so cocked to the side it almost felt like it would fall off my neck altogether, disbelief rampaging through my system. The Third Prince was all cozied up under my desk with a pillow and throw blanket—where had he even found those?—looking as nested as a squirrel with nuts tucked away.
What.
The.
Hell.
“Your Highness?”
He blinked up at me and smiled. “Hello.”
“Why are you under my desk?” I had to ask. You couldn’t blame me for asking.
“Because no one will look for me here,” he answered promptly.
Well…I mean…he wasn’t wrong. I’d never in a million years look for him here. “Okay, but what if someone does?”
“I’ll throw them off with a secret call.”
