‘My Prince,’ Meilyr began. There was nothing else for it. ‘This is Haydn Sayer, he—’
‘We were neighbours,’ Haydn cut in. ‘For a time.’
Meilyr imagined stuffing his gardening glove into his mouth.
‘I see.’ Osian was perfectly cordial, thumb still smoothing Meilyr’s hand where they held each other. ‘Near Gorsedd Arian?’
‘Yes, the very same.’
Haydn’s words were silky as always, but with thistles beneath.
Osian noticed, but meant it when he turned to Meilyr and said, ‘I am glad you have someone familiar here. With the both of you and Nelda, the gardens are in expert hands.’
‘They are, Majesty,’ Haydn affirmed.
They looked at one another, the tension thick enough Meilyr could have bottled it.
‘Majesty, forgive me.’ It was Harlan, crunching along the gravel path of the terrace above them. ‘Your sister has requested your input for something about the tournament. It seemed theoretically urgent.’
‘Thank you, Harlan.’ Osian nodded to Haydn. ‘It was good to meet you, Haydn Sayer.’
Haydn bowed. ‘Majesty.’
Osian drew Meilyr’s hand to his lips and kissed his knuckles. ‘Until later, then.’
He climbed easily up the terrace with Blythe, who shot a glance over her shoulder before falling in.
‘Highness,’ Haydn said. ‘Might I request your eye on the allysum? Nelda, I am sure Ser Pedr would be more than adequate help to begin.’
‘Oh, yes.’ Nelda eyed the knight appreciatively. ‘You must have a green thumb; I see it in your eyes. Fret not, the allysum is just there – you won’t be slacking on your duty.’
Poor Pedr was half dragged towards the verge, protests unheard. Meilyr should have rescued them, but Haydn clearly wanted to talk. He followed him towards the sharp red cover of the photinia hedging, near the allysum in question.
As they reached it, Haydn glanced behind, grabbed Meilyr’s arm and shoved him behind the hedge.
‘What are you doing?’ Meilyr hissed.
‘What did Celyn do?’
‘What?’
‘Celyn. That oaf of a bond-brother of yours, always so delightful, remember him?’
Panic made Meilyr falter before he managed, ‘What about him?’
‘Yesterday was my day off. I stopped by the apothecary, mostly to see if I could, and there was Heulwen – actually charming, that one – do you know what happened? She asked me if you were all right, as though she was afraid for your very life. Obviously that confused me, until she told me Celyndid something. Apparently you’ve sounded fine in your letters, but Celyn is walking around as though he condemned you to death. She wanted my reassurance that you’re fine. What happened, Meilyr? Why is she so worried about you? What in the hells—’
Meilyr covered Haydn’s mouth with his hand. ‘All right, stop, let me explain.’
After a moment, he let him go. Much quieter, Haydn said, ‘When I asked if you were all right, this is what I meant. What is happening?’
Lying would only make things worse, so Meilyr cursed silently and told Haydn the rough shape of everything.
Haydn ran his hands raggedly through his dark hair, stunned. ‘Gods. But you two look – you seemedhappy. Gods!’
‘Swear you won’t tell anyone. If—’
‘If anyone finds out, Celyn is dead and probably you too, I understand. Your secret is safe with me. But, what now? You stay on the prince’s arm forever?’