Page 2 of Her Royal Houseguest

He’d memorised every detail of every ritual, carefully worked his way into assisting wherever he was allowed and made sure that his father, the king, knew of his impressive knowledge.

It hadn’t made a difference, and now he would be expected to serve his sleepy half-brother.

The second path had been to marry well, but this was difficult without a clear sign of favour from the king. Fathers of eligible daughters would not ally themselves to a nobody prince. And since Deva was one of seventy-four royal children, there were plenty of other possible bridegrooms with brighter futures.

He had needed the appointment to get the bride. And without the appointment, it was no wonder the girl was given elsewhere.

‘She’s a shrew anyway,’ Vaji said.

‘Her father has connections and she is a respectable bride for a prince.’

‘Well, let her go foul Luang Thani’s nest. You don’t need her.’

He didn’t. He’d needed that appointment.

‘So now,’ Vaji added with a grin, ‘it’s time for the second plan.’

That was the second plan. Or more accurately, the twentieth or thirtieth plan. He’d spent his entire life trying to get noticed by his father. He’d done everything right, studied hard, impressed his teachers and worked night and day to get his father’s attention.

Only to have it ripped away time and again.

‘I am done with plans.’ He dropped onto the nearest intact cushion. ‘I shall drink myself into oblivion.’

‘Not as much fun as you might imagine.’

Deva eyed his half-brother. They had both gone into the temple as boys, him because he had no parent and Vaji because his mother was worse than no mother. Every prince took vows for a time so that they could learn to be a good ruler. They learned the commandments of their faith, practiced meditation and self-examination, and remembered the humility gained from such formative experience.

Deva had disrobed as soon as he could work in government. He’d taken whatever role he could, including the lowest and dirtiest jobs, and he’d worked his way up.

Vaji, however, had stayed in, spending his time arguing with his teachers and going on trips to the temples in outlying provinces. This had provided their father with important insights into the people who lived so far from the palace but it hadn’t gotten him any more attention than all of Deva’s diligence.

None of these tasks had ever included getting blind drunk. Indeed, the monastic vows forbade it.

‘Why does the abbot tolerate you?’ Deva asked.

‘Because I get bottles of the good wine.’

Deva’s eyes widened. ‘He doesn’t drink!’

‘No, he doesn’t. But it is a good bribe when he needs it,’ Vaji said.

And therein showed the problem with their father’s government. Bribes and connections often meant more than skill. If even the holy abbot used bribes to get things done, then his father’s government was rife with corruption and had been for generations.

‘Quit moping,’ Vaji said as he threw a silk pillow at his half-brother. ‘It is time for a new plan.’

Deva’s temper abruptly overran his thoughts. He shoved to his feet and glared at Vaji. ‘I am Chao Fa Devawongse, a royal son of a favoured wife! I should not have to make plans!’

Vaji rolled his eyes. ‘And I am Chao Fa Vajiravudh, a royal prince of a cursed wife. I enjoy making plans.’ Then he winked and rubbed his hands together. ‘Come on. What’s the new plan?’

Deva’s temper faded. Vaji always knew how to make him smile. Indeed, he made everyone smile even as they cursed him for whatever mischief he’d created.

‘All right,’ he said with a grumble. ‘What is your plan?’

‘Oh no,’ Vaji said, waggling his finger. ‘Do not tease me.’

‘I’m not teasing you. I don’t have a plan.’

That was a lie. Deva had dozens of plans but all of them had been thwarted.