He didn’t let the thought land, making quick work of tossing the figurines into the fireplace.
Present Day - Grypheem
“Prince Griffin—”
“Sir!”
“Prince!”
“Sir Griffin—”
Julian laughed as Griffin clasped his hands over his head. He hated this, the attention, the buzz of noise.
He wanted nothing more than to crawl back into bed with Raven, to wrap himself around her and…
An older man he recognized as one of his late father’s advisors approached him. They were in the center of the great hall, and Griffin and Julian were working hand-in-hand to answer decorating questions.
A waste of my fucking time.
“Prince Griffin.” The man offered a deep bow, his nose nearly touching his knees, which was made more impressive by his formidable age.
But looking at him, it would be hard to think this man was over thirty.
A laboratory-born. An unnatural.
They always appeared younger than their age. Many had shunned these citizens for the difference, but Griffin’s father had employed them. Kept them close.
Raised one as his own son.
“Phillip.” Griffin acknowledged, offering a smile. “Rise please. This is Julian, he is to be my, uh—”
My husband.
Griffin gulped down the insanity of those words.
Phillip straightened before offering Julian the slightest of bows as well, it was more than anyone else had done at this point. A show of respect where most others had ignored Julian entirely. Philip’s bright gray eyes flickered in amusement but then he focused his intensity on Griffin.
“Please know, Prince, you have support in corners you wouldn’t expect.” Phillip tucked some of his platinum hair behind his ear, offering a quick view of a griffin tattooed there before letting it fall forward again and marching away.
The sight caused Griffin’s mouth to dry. While griffins were the emblem of their country, getting a tattoo of one…well, it wasn’t the norm. A body was to remain unmarred.
Tattoos across the Sacred Trinity were frowned upon for that reason.
The fact that Phillip had one was surprising in and of itself, but with it being a griffin...
Griffin’s attention bounced across the room, to all the men who were hurrying around them.
Were there more tattoos hidden? Was what I saw all those years before exactly what I thought?
“We must take our leave!” Griffin advised, grabbing hold of Julian and dragging him along as he fled the room, but he didn’t stop there, continuing until they were outside, a fresh dusting of snow crunching beneath his boots.
It was too much.
Too much responsibility. Too much to take on.
“What’s going on?” Julian panted, his face quickly turning pink. “Fuck, it’s cold.” He wrapped his arms around himself.
Griffin released him, continuing towards the hedges, needing to be out of sight, needing to breathe. The cold was nothing to the flames of anxiety that licked up his throat.
