Page 2 of The Prince's Curse

“And I you, Benjin,” Haldric murmured in-between stolen kisses.

They stood there, locked in each other’s arms, basking in their shared contentment, until Benjin caught a whiff of acrid smoke.

Pulling back, he raised an eyebrow. “How about until the bacon burns?”

Cursing, Haldric broke free of their embrace and rushed to the stove. Azure runeflame laced with threads of silver coated his hand as he channeled a quick Evocation of wind and frost to lower the temperature.

Benjin always enjoyed watching Haldric perform magic. His precise hand gestures were so much more graceful than Benjin’s half-trained fumbling. Benjin might have been born with acertain innate gift for Evocation magic, but what Haldric lacked in raw talent, he more than made up for in study and dedication.

“Go on. Sit.” Humor glinted in Haldric’s eyes as he shooed Benjin away. “You’re distracting me.”

Chuckling, Benjin obeyed, settling onto his preferred stool by the table. While he waited for Haldric to finish cooking, he amused himself by conjuring a small puppet made from flame. The animated fire danced across the tabletop in a crude approximation of a twirling ballerina.

“Must you do that at the table?” Haldric complained good-naturedly. He slid a platter of bacon in front of Benjin, along with fresh fruit from the garden and a heaping pile of scrambled eggs. “It leaves little scorch marks all over the wood.”

“Then, it sounds like there’s no harm in me continuing to do it since the damage has already been done.”

Haldric gave Benjin a flat look as he settled in the other stool across the table. Benjin fixed him with an innocent smile, holding it for a span of heartbeats before dispelling the animated fire with a tiny burst of runeflame. He dug into the food with unbridled enthusiasm.

“We really should think about investing in a couple chickens,” Haldric said, nibbling on a piece of bacon while he watched Benjin gorge himself. “Prices are only going up thanks to the shortages, and we’d save a fortune in gold gallants at the rate you go through eggs.”

“And I suppose you’d expectmeto care for them?” Benjin protested through a mouthful of food.

“I bet you’d take right to them. Give it a week, and you’ll be demanding we keep the chickens inside with us so they don’t get too cold in the autumn chill.”

Benjin hated that Haldric was probably right. The Void-cursed man knew him too well. “I mean, itwouldbe the prudentchoice. We’re far enough from town that all the wolves and other predators might try to eat them.”

“Wolves.” Haldric shook his head and chuckled. “Right.”

They ate in companionable silence until Benjin leaned back in his chair with a satisfied groan, resting a hand over his belly. “I’m not sure I can eat another bite.”

Haldric grinned. “I’ll take that as a compliment.”

He rose and began gathering up the used dishes before Benjin laid a hand over his, stopping him. Haldric looked at him questioningly.

“Here, let me,” Benjin said.

“Oho,” Haldric laughed, his emerald eyes sparkling. “You reallyarefeeling sentimental today, aren’t you?”

Benjin flushed and stalked toward the kitchen. A wave of his hand and a flash of runeflame sent the dishes careening after him. In his haste, however, he’d imbued the Evocation with a touch too much force and had to scramble to catch the plates before they shattered against the wall. He sheepishly deposited them in the basin.

“Well, what do you expect with all that talk of love?” he said, attempting a more complex Conjuration to fill the basin with water. Once again, the spell refused to cooperate, spraying water across the front of his tunic and britches.

Haldric was there in an instant, his delicate fingers working runeflame to dry Benjin off. “Are you all right?”

“Everything except my pride,” Benjin sighed, hunching over the filled sink.

He tensed when Haldric draped his arms around him and pressed a tender kiss to the back of his neck. “Nothing to be ashamed of, love. Your pride is intact.”

Benjin avoided looking at Haldric. A familiar shame coiled in his chest. “I wish I had your control,” he said, his voice quiet. “Magic comes so naturally to you. It’s like…like watching amaster musician or dancer, every note they play or movement they make effortless.”

Haldric cupped Benjin’s cheek, forcing his head up to meet his eyes. Benjin’s breath caught at the warmth and compassion he saw in those verdant depths. He couldn’t resist sweeping a hand through Haldric’s flowing hair.

“I worked hard to learn my magic,” Haldric said gently. “And so did you. I might be good at memorizing spells out of dusty old tomes, but you—you werebornwith the spark within you. Control can be taught, but that connection, that raw power…thatis all entirely you.”

Benjin kissed him again, softer this time, straining to project the depth of his feeling through their sealed lips.You are my everything. And I hope that, someday, I can make you as happy as you’ve made me.

A rough knock sounded on the door.

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