Page 10 of The Prince

Clament laughed and tipped his head back, looking at the white-painted ceiling. Once he was certain his laugh wouldn’t devolve into hysteria or tears, he looked back down and replied. “It’s all I can think about when I’m not wracking my head trying to figure out where in the mountains my father would think to build an entire fortress.” The opportunity to change how he identified himself, to change the entire identity of the unwanted bastard prince thrust upon him at birth, was far, far too tempting.

“Can we help with anything?” Braxton asked with what appeared to be genuine concern. He lifted one hand as if he wanted to rest it on Clament’s shoulder in comfort, but instead dropped it to his fork.

“I, well, I had one idea,” Clament hedged, wondering whether his idea was even worth saying aloud. “My father named me Lament, but my mother chose to call me beloved. My middle name is Caro, which in the ancient language means someone loved.” It was a crazy, radical change, one he wasn’t certain he deserved. His mother might have named him Caro, but she had died when he was barely a year old. He didn’t really know what it meant to be loved, so could he really claim such a name as his own?

“Caro is a beautiful name,” Ayer said.

“Everyone deserves to be loved,” Braxton abruptly cut in, his words sending a jolt of surprise through Clament. It was as if he were reading Clament’s thoughts. “Sometimes it just takes longer to find the right people.”

Braxton’s eyes were blazing and intense as he stared at Clament, full of some sort of intent Clament wasn’t certain he dared interpret. What if he was wrong, and that wasn’t love glaring at him; what if Braxton was simply a passionate personwhen it came to these things, and Clament was inserting his own feelings where they didn’t belong?

“If you want to be called Caro, we’ll call you Caro,” Braxton continued, his voice deep and gravelly with emotion. “If you want to become Caro, we’ll help you figure out exactly who Caro is. The question is, what doyouwant?”

He wanted Braxton. With every fiber of his being, he wanted to belong to Braxton, and to have Braxton belong to him in turn. He wanted to feel Braxton’s arms around him, clutching him tight. He wanted more than that too. But Braxton didn’t deserve a broken partner. Braxton deserved to have someone strong and whole at his side, supporting him as a partner ought. Clament couldn’t do that. However, perhaps, just perhaps, Caro might be able to become that sort of person.

Caro’s voice was slow and halting, but for the first time, his body felt light as if the burden of generations had fallen from his shoulders. “I want to be Caro. Please, help me become Caro.”

The room was silent for a long moment while Caro stared at his hands in his lap, clasped and white-knuckled from the strength of his grip. Then a hand appeared in his field of vision. Small knife scars, calluses, and fingers thick with muscle, yet so gentle as it rested on top of Caro’s for a brief moment, before reaching for Caro’s chin and gently tilting his head up. Braxton’s hazel eyes were soft but still with the same intensity, and Caro got lost in them, staring, rapt, and with no desire to ever look away.

“Welcome to Toval, Caro,” Braxton said. His hand didn’t leave, remaining under Caro’s chin in a caress that sent a shiver down Caro’s spine.

“Thank you,” Caro whispered, his throat tight with unshed tears and his breath hitching because while Braxton’s eyes mightbe soft as he looked at Caro, they roared with emotion all the same as if his eyes were simply windows into his heart. Clament might not be willing to believe it, but Caro definitely did. Braxton was looking at him—at Caro—with want and love and with so many emotions that Caro wanted to burst out with his own return feelings.

Someone cleared their throat, and Caro jumped, finally breaking eye contact with Braxton. He had forgotten about the other two people in the room. Caro half expected to see looks of derision on their faces as he glanced sheepishly over, but they were only smiling. Although Fen’s grin had a touch of mischief in it.

“You’re going to have to introduce him to Mother now, you realize,” Fen said to Braxton, his grin growing.

Braxton groaned. “Do I have to?” He glared at both his brothers. “You’re not going to tell her, are you?”

Ayer laughed. “You say that as if she doesn’t already know. No one is as shrewd or discerning as our mother,” he added to Caro, including him in their conversation as the brothers always did as if he belonged with them.

The usual sickly sour feeling of being an interloper tried to well up, but Caro fought it back. If Ayer wanted to include him, it meant Caro was supposed to be there. These brothers weren’t the type to be passive-aggressive or go behind his back. No, if they wanted him to do something or go somewhere, they would tell him outright.

“I really should meet Queen Trina and King Aurelius to thank them for allowing me to stay here despite the difficulties I’ve caused,” Caro replied.

Fen and Ayer snickered and, confused, Caro looked from them to Braxton. Braxton’s cheeks were pink even as he glared at his brothers, which only increased Caro’s confusion.

“Our mother is an excellent queen,” Fen explained when Caro looked back over at him and Ayer. “However, when it comes to her children, these days what interests her the most is finding us happiness. By her definition.”

“Fennn,” Braxton said in a half-whining and half-pointed warning.

“Yes, yes.” Fen waved his hand between them. “Sorry, Caro. I’ll let Braxton explain the rest. Let me just say Mother is very interested in meeting you. Has Alina cleared you to walk around without a healer’s supervision yet?”

“She said she received permission to take me to the royal gardens this afternoon,” Caro replied. “If I’m able to walk there and back without any issues, she said I should be able to go there any time I’d like to get some fresh air.”

“Excellent. Then, if you get permission, you’ll be able to join us for breakfast tomorrow morning. Eight o’clock in the private dining room at the end of the hall. The door to the garden is right next to the dining room.” The grin he shot Braxton was cheeky, but his smile gentled when he looked back at Caro. “We’d love if you’d come.”

“Then if Alina says it’s okay, I’ll be there.”

“Would you please just eat your lunch and get out of here?” Braxton groaned out, rubbing one hand across his face. “You gossip worse than some of the old fogies at court.”

Ayer and Fen both laughed, Fen reaching out to ruffle Braxton’s hair.

“Where’s the fun if we can’t torment you a little in return for how you treated us?” Fen replied, although he and Ayer did settle down and actually start eating.

Caro was sad they had to leave about ten minutes later, but Crown Prince Ayer and Commander of the Royal Forces Fenwick very likely had important duties to return to. That they had found time to stop by for lunch was amazing enough. Braxton must have just as much work, but he stayed behind, sitting in his chair and waiting for the door to close before he turned to look at Caro.

“Don’t let them, or me, pressure you into anything,” Braxton said, his tone an unhappy growl as he glanced back over at the door his brothers had just gone through. “If you’re not feeling up to breakfast tomorrow, don’t feel obligated to go.”

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