Her lie would offset the damage, though not dissipate it fully. It was good of her to offer. ‘You do not have to do that.’
‘No, but I will. I am not Wystan.’
Thank the gods.
‘I see Mortimer and Stroud haven’t sent any well-wishers,’ she continued. ‘Unsurprising, and rather telling.’ It was. Their father would not be pleased about that, either. ‘What is surprising is how happy Radnor pretended to be for you on the road, considering his family’s intentions.’
Kenelm Radnor, Captain Radnor’s son and heir to his aunt’s March, was not someone Osian had expected to make the journey to Cyngalon. He was more active in the Khaimlic court than his family’s March, but nonetheless staunchly loyal to them. A close friend of Wystan’s, he had swiftly gained favour, though Osian knew the king was wary of him and his family’s ambitions.
Osian and Aldreda were all too aware that both Kenelm and his sister had been floated to Osian as potential marriage partners, on a roster of beneficial matches to the Crown.
‘Not very future-king of me,’ Aldreda continued, ‘but I’m happy for you. Happier than if you’d had to marry any of them, anyway.’ She halved her drink with a grimace. Loosened her shoulders. ‘You’ve found yourself in worse messes, at least. I just hope you know what you’re doing. Heisrather fetching, but why didn’t you come gushing to me after your last visits that you’d made eyes at a gorgeous peasant?’
There was a nudge there; she was not certain whether to believe the legend surrounding the courtship.
‘I tried to put it from my mind,’ Osian said. ‘I truly believed I would never see him again. Perhaps it was fate, or merely chance. But the other day in town, there he was.’
A slightly surprised, searching look. ‘So,marriage, rather than anything else…’
He drank, and did not look at her.
Idly, he traced the still-tender mark in his thumb and let his gaze trail to the dais and the man he had married. He observed the well-hidden, nervous line to Meilyr’s mouth as he allowed Demelza and Faina’s talk to wash through him.
Osian allowed himself one moment to look. Then Lord Glede approached, and it was back to remembering himself.
Meilyr was drunk when Prince Osian parted the crowd to step up to the dais, eyes only for him.
Meilyr rose, as did Highness Demelza and Lady Faina.
‘Forgive my interruption,’ the prince said.
‘Not at all, Majesty.’ Demelza dipped her head.
He came around the table smoothly, and Meilyr stepped out to meet him. There was a question in his eyes, to which Meilyr nodded subtly. Only then did the prince touch his hand, run that touch up his arm and separate them both from the world beyond. ‘Forgive me, as well, for leaving you unattended for so long.’
He breathed the lie so easily, whilst Meilyr fumbled about, worrying how it might look to others.
Play the part.
He followed the course of the prince’s touch and rested his hand on his chest. ‘There is nothing to forgive, My Prince.’ He could do this. ‘You have been away from your family. I rather expected, and would have understood, if you had remained by their sides all night.’
They were being watched. He was still acutely aware of it, until Prince Osian brushed a loosened fall of Meilyr’s hair back behind his ear.
‘I have had, and will have, plenty of time with them. Allow me this moment.’
Heat spread beneath Meilyr’s foolishly tight collar, followed by a clap of guilt. He forced it aside. ‘My time belongs to you,’ he said, leaning into the touch. ‘Any moment you wish is already yours.’
There was a flicker of surprise. It melted before anyone else could have noticed. ‘Then,’ the prince said, ‘shall we retire for the evening?’
A catch before Meilyr could speak. ‘If your family will not think less of me for depriving them of your presence.’
The prince took his hand and brushed his lips across it. ‘They would not dare, as any fault is mine, and mine alone.’ He turned, waiting for Meilyr to take his arm, then led them through the doors behind the dais and from the Great Hall.
Meilyr’s blood thumped dizzyingly. It was the wine. The closeness oftheir ascent up the tower.
But Prince Osian bid his knights remain below and saw Meilyr to his own door. Quietly, incredibly close in the tight space of the spiral corridor, he said, ‘It may be too dangerous to visit your brother with the castle this crowded, though it should also provide an opportunity for his release. Let us speak on it tomorrow.’
‘Of course.’