“Yes, Saris told me your mother was an optimist,” King Broen remarked dryly.
“You actually spoke to her about me?” The words doused cold water on Wycke’s posturing. He’d never been particularly impressed by authority. Guards? There for his entertainment. Tutors? So easily thwarted. King Broen? Too forgiving by half. Queen Consort Saris? Wycke inwardly shuddered. A very tiny person capable of bringing him into line with a single glower.
Broen took on guarded tones. “She is my queen.”
“Speaking of my dear lovely sister and things going bump in the night, do you mean to tell me you’re totally faithful to her? Since your joining, you’ve taken no other man or woman to your bed?” Wycke took another mouthful of bread. Apparently, the kitchen saved the best for Broen. Wycke must speak with the cook immediately.
Flatter, flirt, whatever. Wasn’theher favorite?
“What I do is none of your business,” Broen snapped. “You are one of my subjects. I am not yours.”
Wycke hadn’t seen so vivid a blush since the chapel boys’ choir passed him in the palace gardens.“That’s Prince Wicked,”one whispered, a little too loudly. They all turned away, except for one bold lad who walked backward, keeping Wycke in his sights at all times.
Ah, yes. A kindred soul.
Okay, so the boys in the choir were no longer boys but Wycke’s age. They still blushed nicely. As King Broen did now.
Sometimes Broen didn’t act his seven and thirty summers.
“You are faithful, aren’t you? Wow! Amazing.” Why feel such relief? Saris didn’t love her mate, though Wycke couldn’t fathom why not. Handsome, kind. Given his graceful dancing, Broen no doubt managed agile moves in bed. What was wrong with the woman?
“Why is that so hard to believe?” King Broen retorted, one eyebrow again creeping toward his rather impressive hairline. “She is my mate. I treat her with respect, and taking another to bed, knowing she could hear of my infidelities, is disrespectful.”
“That’s not the only reason your bed stays empty.” Wycke snatched an apple from the bowl on the table and took a crisp bite, smiling when the juice hit his tongue. Oh, yes. He’d been thirsty. The bread hadn’t helped.
King Broen placed both massive forearms on the table. “It is not me we’re here to talk about.”
Oh. A change of subject. So telling. Wycke couldn’t wait to gossip with his sister. “On your joining day, you insisted your people no longer avoid or look down their rather pug noses at me. They’ve complied. Some more than once. You should be thrilled.”
Broen cleared his throat. Exasperation. In less time required to eat an apple. A new record. “If you do not amend your ways, I will be forced to pick a mate for you.”
The apple fell from Wycke’s suddenly numb fingers, hitting the marble floor with a thud. “What?” He couldn’t have heard correctly. Yes, he annoyed his brother-by-bonding out of boredom, but he’d never before received threats. Wycke whapped his hand against his ear a few times. “I’m afraid I must have misheard you saying you wanted me to settle down with one person.”
Broen let out a longsuffering sigh. “Wycke, I have received complaints from three fathers this week alone, not to mention one from the captain of the guards. Let’s see, how did he put it? Ah, yes, you ‘treat the barracks like your own private brothel.’”
“When a guard is off duty, his time is his own.” Wycke crossed his legs, folding his arms across his chest.
“Yes, but could you at least remove them from the barracks first before taking your pleasure? Half the guards are jealous; the other half wish you’d be quiet and let them sleep.” Broen flushed bright crimson again. An unfortunate look with his coloring. “Apparently, your partners have a tendency to get… loud.”
Maybe Wycke should consider taking a second bedroom closer to the barracks but far enough away to allow the poor sods their rest.
“I’ve spoken with your sister—”
“You spoke to Saris about my sex life?” Not good. She didn’t merely threaten—she followed through.
“Yes. I explained the situation, asking for her wise counsel, as I often do in matters of her very errant brother.” A hint of smugness crossed Broen’s features. Wycke provided him a reason to talk to Saris, then.
He couldn’t help goading Broen. “Her very errant brother happens to be in Myrgren, thank you very much. The snows are deep this winter. He wouldn’t venture out for another moon cycle, at least, not without a sorcerer to open a portal.”
“I speak of her other errant brother.”
“Oh?” Broen made goading so easy.
“Yes. Oh.” Broen’s conniving smile didn’t bode well for Wycke. Oh, dear. Had Wycke pushed too far?
“What did my queenly sister suggest?” And could Wycke persuade her to take his side as he had so many times before? He definitely didn’t care for the direction this conversation seemed headed.
No one did smug like Broen, except perhaps Wycke himself. “She suggested an errand for you, one to occupy your time while also keeping you temporarily out of the palace.”
