Page 51 of Truth or Spare

“That’s silly, but you wouldn’t be a peasant. Maybe something noble and sexy… Like a blacksmith!”

“A blacksmith?” Dewey looked dubious as he raised Theo’s hand for a closer look at the cufflink. “How much did these cost?” he asked, making Theo wince.

“About as much as new plumbing and a resurfaced parking lot,” he said sheepishly and Dewey dropped his wrist, glaring at Theo.

“I don’t even own cufflinks. My shirts have basic-ass buttons, because I’m just a blacksmith.” he said flatly. “Every time I start to get my head around…us, you remind me of how ridiculous all of this is. Why the hell would a prince want a blacksmith?”

“Bist du bescheuert?” Theo spluttered incredulously at him. “Blacksmiths were vital in a world before cars and technology! Weapons, horseshoes, tools, armor… That’s so much more useful than a royal and far more respected by the common man, I’d say.”

Dewey grunted thoughtfully. “Maybe…”

“Ja! I like this fantasy,” Theo insisted. “I would have noticed you, working in your forge and I would find any excuse to ride byon my horse at least once a day. I might even be concerned about one of his shoes and stop in one evening…”

“I’d have to be strong to be a blacksmith.” Dewey’s mouth twisted into a grimace as he considered, then shook his head. “I’d still be a peasant.”

Theo gave his chest a swat. “Stop that! You can imagine yourself as a peasant but you can’t pretend you don’t have myasthenia gravis? I refuse to imagine you as a peasant and you’re strong in a hundred other ways, even if your arms or legs are being difficult.”

A grin twitched beneath Dewey’s mustache. “Being difficult? That’s a nicer way to put it,” he said and Theo shrugged.

“Sometimes, you’re incredibly strong. Much stronger than me. Other times, your arms or legs decide to be difficult and then, you are not as strong. That’s why you need me,” he said simply.

“I do.” Dewey nodded, capturing Theo’s cheek. “Theo, I lo—” His jaw stuck and Dewey’s eyes flared as his neck and ears turned red.

Theo kissed him, humming softly. “I think I lo— you too, but we can save the rest for later. It’s already been a big weekend,” he suggested.

“You always know,” Dewey said and kissed Theo tenderly. Gratefully. “Because youalwayscare and you’re always thinking about what other people need. That’s what Matteo meant when he said that you were the boss. I thought he was picking on you when he said you didn’t work, but I think he meant that you always know what the people you care about need. And it’s not work for you, it’s just what you do,” he added, causing Theo to draw back.

“When did you talk to Matteo and your first assumption was probably correct. He knows I can be a wee bit… Ein Faulpelz.”

“What’s a Faulpelz?” Dewey asked, making Theo smirk.

“It means lazy fur or fluff. It’s a kinder way of calling someone lazy auf Deutsch.”

“Ah.” Dewey shook his head. “I still wouldn’t consider you a ein Fuzpuz.”

“No, the ‘ein’ is your ‘a’ and it is Faulpelz. But, thank you!” Theo pressed a firm kiss to his lips. “When did Matteo tell you I was lazy?”

“It was the day I answered your phone. While you were rinsing the Microban out of your eyes.”

“Ach so!” Theo laughed dismissively. “He cannot decide if I am being held for ransom or if I have joined a cult. Either way, I’ve done it all to spite Teo,” he said facetiously.

“Um…” Dewey set Theo away from him. “You two should clear that up before I’m charged with something,” he said, causing Theo to laugh even harder.

“Quatsch! He is always so dramatic. Although…” Theo paused and winced. “Leo’s butler was recently arrested.”

“What?”

“It had nothing to do with us, but it seems he was a con man and involved in a murder. You’ll be fine. You’re a blacksmith,” Theo reminded him. “A big bear of a blacksmith who’s just about to head home, after a long day at the forge.”

“You’re really into this,” Dewey noted.

“You’re not?”

Dewey nodded. “I am. Just can tell that you’rereallyinto it. What brings you by the forge, Your Highness?” he said and Theo cringed, not enjoying that bit of immersion.

“Technically, it would be ‘Your Imperial and Royal Highness,’ but that’s fine.”

Dewey frowned, looking confused. “What’s the difference?”

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