Tamsen rolled his eyes, his cheeks heating. He took another sip of whiskey, its burn soothing his nerves. "You could call me by name,
Guardsman
."
Myron grinned. "I could. I do know it. Do you want me to say yes, your highness?"
"Brat," Tamsen groused, his fingers tightening around the glass of whiskey he still held. "You won't see your family or friends for months, you know."
"Did you miss the part where I report back every month?" Myron asked. He raised his eyebrows at Tamsen. "I'm not being banished, your highness, just assigned to spend a lot of time with you and tell your brother that you're not dead or injured."
"So, you want to do it?" Tamsen asked, stupidly still afraid that Myron would refuse. "What happens if we fight?"
"We fight," Myron said, shrugging. He grinned at Tamsen, stealing the whiskey glass from Tamsen and knocking back the last of its contents. He set the glass on the bar, sidling closer. "We make up or we don't, and I can always asked to be reassigned. I don't think your brother would deny that. If you're that worried about it, we can ask to change it. Have me visit regularly to check up on you instead."
"What do you want to do?" Tamsen asked. His hands felt empty without the glass to hold onto, and he didn't know where to put them.
"I want to take you back to my room and pick up where we left off," Myron said, his voice dropping an octave. If he cared at all that Stirling and Hartley were in the room, it didn't stop him from crowding into Tamsen's space. "But I'll take you any way I can get you, your highness. Tamsen. What do
you
want to do?"
Tamsen's face was red, he knew it, but he didn't care. "I want you to say yes."
"Good, because I want to say yes," Myron said, smiling softly at Tamsen. He wished he'd taken the conversation somewhere more private—but what did he care? Between his conversation with Myron earlier and his meddling now, Stirling already knew, and Tamsen did not care what Hartley felt or thought about Myron.
Myron didn't wait for him, closing the short distance between them and sliding his mouth across Tamsen's. Tamsen returned the kiss ardently, happy that Myron wanted to spend months on end with him and wasn't upset by Stirling's further meddling. He wasn't happy it meant he and Myron would be separated for several weeks, but he would be getting what he wanted at the end of it: not marrying Hartley or a Sumiran princess, no longer a prince, and plenty of time with Myron.
Tamsen stepped away when the kiss ended, certain his face was two shades of red away from setting itself on fire. He didn't care, though, and he caught Myron's hand in his. "Let's get this over with, then."
Myron laughed softly, giving him a soft, secret smile that Tamsen couldn't help but return. He led the way over to the table where Stirling and Hartley still sat, ignoring Stirling's smirk. Hartley looked upset briefly before the expression disappeared, but Tamsen refused to feel bad about that. It had been
seven years
. Hartley's feelings weren't his problem.
"I take it you've decided, Guardsman?" Stirling asked, wisely addressing Myron instead of Tamsen.
"Yes, your majesty," Myron said. His fingers tightened on Tamsen's, and Tamsen squeezed back. "I'll take the assignment."
"With the provision," Tamsen said before Stirling could say anything, "that if he no longer wants to be part of it, he can leave the assignment with no punishment or question."
"Done," Stirling said. He still looked far too pleased with himself, but Tamsen ignored that, focusing on the part where he got to keep Myron for several months. "Guardsman, Hartley will be personally completing your lessons on shifting. Outside of those lessons, you're on leave until you begin your assignment with Tamsen."
"Yes, your majesty," Myron said. The only reasons Tamsen didn't object was that Hartley didn't look happy about it and Myron didn't sound upset about it. Hartley
was
a good teacher; no one would get Myron up to speed on shifting as quickly as Hartley.
"You're not making me take protection while he's learning," Tamsen said. "It's him and nothing else."
Stirling sighed but nodded. "Fine. But be careful, Tamsen. I don't want to lose you right after we've found you again."
"I will be," Tamsen said, resisting the urge to roll his eyes. "Do I need to go today?"
"Tomorrow will be soon enough," Stirling said. He stood up, though Hartley stayed seated. "You can have a last dinner with Reina, me, and the kids tonight and leave in the morning. I'll make sure we're not interrupted."
Tamsen nodded, a sudden lump appearing in his throat. He didn't like the idea of not seeing the kids for months on end. It was stupid, given he'd been gone for seven years already. "I'd best go get things ready, then."
Slipping his hand from Myron's, Tamsen hugged Stirling. He pulled away after a moment, giving Stirling a stern look. "Stop meddling."
"Never," Stirling said with a sad smile. He shoved at Tamsen's shoulder. "Go on, then. I'll see you at dinner. Don't tell anyone, obviously."
"Obviously," Tamsen said, rolling his eyes.
"Guardsman, we'll discuss your assignment in more detail later," Stirling said. "Remember to keep it to yourself, as well."
"Yes, your majesty," Myron said, the cool, almost disdainful tone back in his voice. Tamsen stifled a grin, probably more amused than he should be at Myron's lack of respect for Stirling. That was what Stirling got for interfering, however; Tamsen had no sympathy for Stirling, not when he'd nearly cost Tamsen what he and Myron were building.
"Come on, let's go," Tamsen said. He grabbed Myron's hand again because he could and dragged Myron from the office.
*~*~*
Tamsen was sitting in front of the fire with a book when his alarm spell went off. It was a simple proximity alert, as the village children had taken to coming out to play hide and seek in the forest near his cottage, and he was sick of them trying to trample his admittedly mostly-dormant garden. Shutting his book, Tamsen headed out to the front porch to yell at them.
Stepping outside, Tamsen's stomach flipped nervously when he caught sight of Myron walking up the path to the cottage. It had been nearly five weeks since Tamsen had shifted himself home from the palace, leaving Myron and his family behind. Five long, slow, boring weeks with no news or idea of how long it would be before he saw Myron again.
Tamsen stepped down from the front stoop, smiling when Myron hastened his steps. He looked almost the same as the first time Tamsen had laid eyes on him. There was a heavy travel pack slung over one shoulder, his sword hung from one hip, and his hair was tucked back neatly. There was a smile on his face that was sweeter and happier than the first smile he'd given Tamsen, however, and Tamsen returned it as Myron reached him.
"Evening," Myron said. He grinned at Tamsen as though they saw each other every day, not as though they'd been apart for five weeks.
"It really took you five weeks to finish learning to shift?" Tamsen asked. "You only needed more practice when I left."
Myron laughed. "Good to see you, too."
"Shut up, that's not what I meant and you know it," Tamsen said, flushing. Hopefully the twilight would hide the expression from Myron. "It is good to see you."
Myron grinned, dropped his bag on the ground, and closed the space between them. Tamsen did not object when Myron dragged him close and kissed him like he'd wanted to do so for weeks. Tamsen hesitated, startled, but then melted into the kiss, wrapping his arms around Myron's neck. Myron tasted sweet and kissed as devastatingly as ever, and Tamsen reluctantly allowed it when Myron pulled away after a moment.
"Stirling wanted me to learn a few offensive spells as well," Myron said. He made a face. "That's why it took so long."
"Meddling," Tamsen muttered. "It's unnecessary. No one is going to find me out here."
"I did," Myron said. He grinned. "But I didn't come out here to talk about your brother."
"Inside," Tamsen ordered, liking the heat in those words. It had been a
long
five weeks.
"Yes, highness," Myron said. He scooped up his bag and followed Tamsen into the cottage.
Tamsen headed across the room to the kitchen; as much as he would like to drag Myron straight into his bed, he did want to know how things were going with Sumira. "Is everything going well? Or is Stirling being overzealous about magical protections as well?"
"It's mostly going well," Myron said. He tossed his bag in the direction of the bed and then followed after Tamsen. "The wedding is arranged as he wanted it, I believe? But there's been some additional threats against the royal family. I don't know the whole of it. Politics were never something I cared about."
"So the Sumirans believed me running away?" Tamsen asked specifically. He paused in front of the fire, which burned a pretty bright blue, casting strange light across the room.
"From what I know, yes," Myron said. He grinned at Tamsen. "It wasn't that hard to sell, given you were playing hermit before. Hartley helped sell it. It's not a bad plan, you know."
"Yeah, well, you're not the one who supposedly broke off an engagement with Hartley and ran off into the night with no word," Tamsen said, scowling.
"You did that originally, sort of," Myron said, grinning. Tamsen wrinkled his nose at Myron, but Myron continued anyway. "And you wanted to get rid of your title."
"I was going to abdicate, not be stripped of it," Tamsen said. He knew it was splitting hairs. Honestly, if Stirling had been less soft, he would've stripped Tamsen of his title as soon as it became clear Tamsen wasn't going to return.
"Semantics," Myron said. "You're not being forced to marry, and you're not a prince any longer. That was what you wanted, wasn't it?"
"Mostly," Tamsen said. He smiled softly. "There's something else I want, too, but I haven't gotten it yet."
"Oh?" Myron asked. Tamsen stepped forward, crowding into Myron's space. His cheeks were flushed, and they burned hotter when Myron smiled at him, slow and hot.
"You," Tamsen said simply.
"You can have all you want of me now," Myron said. "I'm here for the foreseeable future. I think it's Stirling's attempt at an apology? He was very nice to me while I was still training in Rishaw."
"It's the start at an apology," Tamsen said. He leaned in, kissing Myron nice and slow. His fingers trailed along the curve of Myron's jaw, soft and tantalizing with the promise of more. "I think I'll take you up on that."
"Take me up on what?" Myron asked, somewhat unfocused. His fingers were slipping up under Tamsen's shirt, and he tugged Tamsen closer, eliminating the space between them.
"Having all of you," Tamsen said. He kissed Myron again, this time with more urgency and heat. Myron laughed, muffled against Tamsen's lips, and Tamsen set to taking him up on it.
Fin
About the Author
Sasha L. Miller spends most of her time writing, reading, or playing with all things website design. She loves telling stories, especially romance, because there’s nothing better than giving people their happily ever afters. When not writing, she spends time cooking, harassing her roommates, and playing with her cats.
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