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“Do you know what I noticed there?” Jaime leaned over as their horses trotted down the path. “Every single bottle and jar on her shelves had a label unlike Olivier.”

Aleric nodded. “I doubt she’s trying to poison anyone, so of course she properly labels everything.”

“Bastard. We should put Gautier in prison and give him the shits.”

Chapter Sixteen

Nearly four weeks after the hunting incident, Aleric wasn’t feeling his best one morning, and Father’s griping wasn’t helping.

“It’s not that I mind him going down there to eat, but he’s doing it every meal now, and I told him to come back to the High Table. But noooo. He prefers it down there now anyway.”

Aleric held back a sigh and moved his food around on his plate while Jaime feasted on a pile of blueberry flapjacks. One would think he hadn’t seen food in a week.

“Enjoying yourself?”

“Yeah. These are almost as good as my Aunt’s.”

Lord Monet sighed. “Aleric, were you listening to me?”

“Yes. What do you expect me to do?” Ever since that one night, Zacharie ate at one of the round tables with Gautier and a few courtiers he was friends with. “Tell him to come back, and use a firm voice if you want it that badly.”

“He’s not seven. The firm voice doesn’t work very well anymore.”

Because Zacharie had learned that nagging often wore Father down. “Then let him stay and yak to his friends. The Kingdom won’t collapse because he doesn’t eat with us.”

“You’re so helpful,” Lord Monet grumbled as he drizzled more honey mixed with cinnamon on his flapjacks. “He acts like you’re going to beat him up.”

He probably also didn’t like that Aleric had insisted on Jaime joining them for meals. After all, he’d taken care of Aleric when he’d been ill, and letting him sit at the High Table for meals was a small reward. Father had agreed.

Zacharie had been avoiding Aleric, and he couldn’t pretend he cared. The little shit was all smiles for Gautier who could do no wrong, and the farther away they stayed, the better.

“Why aren’t you eating?” asked Jaime.

“I’m not feeling it.” For whatever reason, his stomach had been a little off after dinner the previous night. Since his appetite had packed its trunk and gone on holiday that morning, he’d barely nibbled on his food. He usually liked blueberry flapjacks too. The texture and taste weren’t helping him. He didn't care for the toasted bread or fruit either.

He’d felt like his old self after a few days of recovering, and in the past weeks, nothing had changed. Things between Jaime and Aleric had been neutral, and Jaime had kept his promise by not grabbing him or making sexual jokes. Mostly, he stayed with Aleric outside of the rooms because he was afraid Gautier might try something a little more daring. While he could see Jaime’s point, since a frustrated man might take risks, Aleric made sure they had time apart since he was at home, and others were often nearby in the day. He couldn’t have a man plastered to his side at all times.

When they were in the rooms, he spent more time in his bedroom to be alone, and since he had his toy, he’d managed to keep his thoughts away from his aid. Mostly. He might have slipped up a few times, not that he'd dare admit it.

They hadn’t fought since Jaime was right, and Aleric shouldn’t be nasty to him. It didn’t mean they were chummy or friends since he wasn’t taking chances. Who knew what Jaime thought about him in private? He didn't want to know.

Olivier had asked Jaime how he was feeling, and he’d pretended the herb combination was helping him. No problems there. Olivier had slowly nodded and said that was good. He must have been boggled that Jaime wasn't constantly stuck in the privy.

Gautier couldn’t pull a plot out of his ass every week, or even every month, so he figured they had time. Jaime would be a nuisance to work around. He’d even said Gautier might give up since he’d failed so far. He hadn’t looked too convinced, and Aleric wouldn’t believe that for a second.

He'd wait and bide his time. If he guessed Jaime knew the truth, Gautier would hope for Jaime to grow lax and perhaps start to doubt that Aleric was telling the truth. If nothing was happening for a while, then perhaps Aleric was a liar.

Living in limbo sucked. It wasn’t a thing a person got used to. Maybe he should go, leave Father a note to warn him, even though he likely wouldn’t believe it, and find a new place to live and get by.

“I’m going riding with a few courtiers.” Father stood. “Are you coming, son?”

“No.”

“You still can’t ride Mighty yet, right?”

“I wouldn’t try it.” Aleric had taken her out on walks in the mornings since she couldn’t simply stay in a stall all day, and she was fine to follow. “She doesn’t like her back being touched, so if I or anyone tried to saddle her, I doubt she’d put up with it. Forget mounting her.”

“Maybe she’ll allow it in a few months,” said Father. “I’ll see you later.”