Ouch. Wycke swallowed his hurt. Did Broen plan to banish him? “You want me out of the palace? Without guards?” That’d be a first. He batted his eyelashes. “But won’t you miss me?” The truth dawned. “You think with me safely out of the palace, my sister might turn to you for comfort.”
Broen examined a bit of cutlery. “My hopes don’t matter.”
Well, damnation. “You really do love her, don’t you?”
After a moment of staring at nothing, Broen emitted a heavy sigh. “Yes, I do. From the moment I saw her when my father named her fate, how she stood her ground and fought for you, I vowed to protect her.” Like Saris needed protection.
“Your father wouldn’t have allowed your bonding. He planned to use us as hostages to ensure my brother’s cooperation, as though Radre cared for us.” A bitter fact Wycke still seethed over.
Broen slammed his hand down on the table. Wycke barely hid a flinch. Wow! Not like Broen to show his temper. “My father is no longer king. As for your brother, he might not care for you, which I’m sorry to agree on. Even so, he wouldn’t risk losing faith among his people by discarding any semblance of brotherly love. After all, your sister is their princess, and you a prince of royal blood. How many parents hoping for a royal match for their children were disappointed when you left with me?”
“Yourfather died, sitting onmyfather’s throne.” The guards killed Wycke’s own father moments later, believing he’d somehow caused the high king’s heart to fail. “You didn’t have to fulfill your father’s promise to bring us home with you.” Wycke tried not to sound totally ungrateful. Broen gave him rooms in the palace, fine clothes, food, decent tutors once Saris put her foot down and fired the governess.
Or rather, she’d done something to the governess. Wycke dared not ask Saris for too many details—details he’d have to deny knowing later.
Broen performed a successful landed fish impersonation. “Yes, I did. It seemed the best way to ensure your safety and keep a watchful eye on you both.”
Maybe, maybe not. “What is this errand my sister has in store for me, and how boring?”
“Something about an old friend she hasn’t heard from. As it would be unseemly for a queen to search for a commoner, she’s sending you.”
“So, it’s not unseemly for a prince to search for a commoner?”
“Wycke.” Oh, what a put-upon sigh. Broen must have been practicing. “When have you ever held to social conventions, and since when have people expected you to?”
Excellent point.
“Now, before you consume all of my breakfast, go see your sister.” Broen wrapped his hands protectively around his plate a moment before Wycke could steal a strawberry. “I’ll have a tray sent.”
“Which could prove interesting.” Wycke waggled his brows. He counted several of the younger members of the kitchen servants among his many liaisons.
“By the oldest, surliest member of the kitchen staff.” Cats who caught canaries must smile so smugly.
Broen did love ruining Wycke’s fun.
Now to find out what Saris wanted. Out of the palace? Unchaperoned? Nothing quelled an evening’s lust like a guard standing outside the door.
Unless the guard joined in.
CHAPTER TEN
Wycke found Saris sitting at a table on her balcony, resplendent in lavender silk. Two ladies-in-waiting kept her company—minus the one likely still lounging in Wycke’s bed. A pixie sunned itself on the balcony railing.
Why didn’t Saris dine with Broen? Wycke loved his sister dearly but never understood her relationship with the high king.
Her balcony overlooked the gardens, the shrubs full of buds. Soon, Wycke could breathe in the scents of many flowers from this perch. Right now, the only spots of color were the gardeners in their deep blue uniforms.
“Your loving mate sends his regards.” He dropped into a chair across from Saris at the small, round table.
“Leave us,” Saris ordered her ladies. She smiled at the pixie. “You, as well, love.”
The ladies gazed at Wycke, snickering behind their hands as they reentered the palace, one casting flirtatious glances his way. The pixie flapped its tiny wings, darting in to kiss his cheek. The giggling, iridescent creature flitted away.
Wycke reached across the table for the bowl of peaches sitting next to Saris’s plate.
She pointed her fork menacingly. “Touch my breakfast and feel my wrath.”
Wycke reached for a scone instead. “Ow!” He yanked back his hand from the sudden zap.