Page 45 of Prince of Storms
I processed that information while we walked down the dusty, uncleaned hallway, a reminder of the job I hadn’t finished. It was also a reminder that nobody had been there in many years. Yet Tor was there now. Why?
“Did you come here to find your princess?” I asked skeptically.
Tor didn’t reply. I took that as a confirmation.
“Have you found her yet?”
“No,” he said. “But I expect to soon.”
“I see.” I didn’t. He sounded so very confident. Was it an arranged marriage, perhaps? How did he expect to find someone to be with for the rest of his life “soon”? Those things took time to form, to evolve. It didn’t happen overnight. There was clearly still a lot I didn’t know.
“Here, you can stay here for now,” Tor said as we paused outside a door that hadn’t been one of the ones I was supposed to clean. “It won’t be, ah, quite up to par, but it should do.”
“Of course, Your Highness,” I said, only slightly sarcastic.
“And you wonder why I didn’t tell you what I am,” he shot back, looking at me unhappily.
I was stunned to see he wasn’t mad. He wasmiserable.
“What do you mean?” I asked. “Why didn’t you tell me?”
“Because if I had, you would act exactly the way you are now, all obsequious. Your Highness this, Sire that, Yes My Prince, etc., etc. I fucking hate it. I want to be normal. I want you to treat me normal.”
“But you’re not n—”
“I am too normal!” he shouted. “I’m just a normal dr—dude. A guy. Person. A freak stroke of birth doesn’t change that on the inside. I still think the same, have the same mental processes. I like drinking and laughing with friends. I am normal, and I want to be treated like it. Please.”
“I’m sorry,” I whispered, shocked by the outburst.
Tor took a shaky breath. “No,” he ground out. “I am sorry. I yelled at you because of my own frustrations. You didn’t deserve that. I should have had better control of my emotions, regardless of how tiring it is to have people treat me differently. It’s refreshing to be able to talk to someone and know they aren’t feeding you platitudes just to try to get into your good books.”
“The only book of yours I want into is your checkbook,” I said wryly.
Tor grinned.
“Well, that and maybe your library. I don't want to think of how much time it will take me to clean that once I start getting lost in your books.”
“You should take some, then.”
“What?” I asked.
“Yeah. Take some of your favorites. I have more than enough.”
“Can’t argue that,” I agreed, giddy at his generosity. I had plenty of books, but none of them were fancy leatherbound copies like the stacks in his library. “Can we go there now?”
“Not now,” he said. “I have to get together with Ty and figure out what the hell we’re going to do with Rica.”
“Right,her,” I said, suddenly wary. “Tell me the truth, Tor. How dangerous is she to me? Should I be worried?”
“I don’t know,” he said evasively. “Her main focus is me. That much, I know, but what her plans might be, I couldn’t tell you. That’s why we’re going to get you back to the city tomorrow. You’ll be safe there, apart from me.”
I found I didn’t like that idea. But how was I supposed to fault it or him? Rica was a nutjob, it seemed, and it was better if Tor provided her with a singular focus instead of adding me into the mix as well. Safety had to come before this vague feeling of always wanting to be around him.
“Can I ask you something?” I said.
“What’s that?”
“Do I get to know what you’re a prince, or soon-to-be-prince, of? Like where?”
