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“No, one of the guards let me in. They said the prince had some business to attend to and for us to head down to the commandant’s office whenever we were ready.”
Kalen nodded, nervous at the idea of seeing Mikol again. It irritated him that the prince made him so nervous. He wasn’t even sure why he did. And because his feelings were all over the place, he had been hoping Mikol would go down with him, which would have helpedcalmhis nerves. Did it mean anything that the prince had gone ahead?
“Do you think the prince will want you to wear the Tygerian robes? They look really comfortable, and I think it’s traditional.”
“No. I’ll just not fasten the waist of my trousers and pull my shirt out over them.”
“Up to you. It looks a little sloppy, though.”
“It will have to do!” Kalen snapped. “I’m never wearing those damn robes.”
“Suit yourself, but Prince Mikol may have something to say about that.”
Kalen glared at him, and stormed out headed for the lift, two of Prince Mikol’s guards falling in behind them. Kalen kept glancing around obsessively on the way down in the lift, hoping to see the prince and darted glances down the long corridor when they reached the commandant’s office, wondering out loud where Mikol could be and if he had changed his mind overnight.
“No, Kalen, I’m sure he hasn’t,” Dartan said, trying to reassure him. His friend put a steadying hand on Kalen’s shoulder. “I believe it’s very common to be nervous before a wedding ceremony.”
“Is it? How would you even know? You’re not married.”
“Well, true. But I believe that’s what I’ve heard.”
“He’s changed his mind. I just know it.”
Dartan shook his head and stepped in closer. “He’d be a fool then,” he whispered fiercely in Kalen’s ear. “And he didn’t strike me as one. Besides, it’s still not even time for this office to be open yet. We’re a bit early.”
“I know. It’s just that…oh! Here he comes.”
A warm flush began creeping up from beneath his collar to reach his cheeks. Prince Mikol was walking down the corridor toward them, along with the other Tygerian, Florin. Both men were sleek and sharp and handsome in their black uniforms, the ones that bristled with razor-like edges. They looked impossibly large and muscular, too, and Kalen wondered for the hundredth time what he was getting himself into.
Prince Mikol walked right up to Kalen, who was suitably attired—for Lorians anyway—in a red shirt and the slightly tight pair of red trousers—red was for weddings, as everyone knew, even though this was only the betrothal part. Mikol nodded cordially but didn’t touch him. It would be a breach of decorum to touch each other before they were officially betrothed, though considering what they’d already been up to, that probably wasn’t much of a consideration anymore.
“I passed Commandant Margoz in the hallway upstairs. He was in a conversation with some people, but he told me he’d be right down.”
Kalen nodded and touched his stomach again. “I feel so nervous suddenly. Little flutters in here.” He looked up at Mikol, who was listening closely to him. “Do you ever have them?”
Mikol looked down at him quizzically, and he wished for a moment he could take back his stupid comment. His father told him once that sometimes the things he said made Kalen sound very young. Had he really meant foolish?
The prince listened, though, like what Kalen was saying was of vital importance and then he gave him a slight smile.
“My omak-ahn, Blake, calls them ‘butterflies,’ but I never knew what that meant when I was a little boy. I asked my father about it, and he said it was better to never ask Blake about those kinds of things. He did once, as a small child himself, and found out they were little flying insects on Earth, with huge colorful wings. It made no sense, but he couldn’t get it out of his mind and the idea of those things crawling around inside him made him feel so queasy that he threw up. Blake had said he was far too ‘literal minded,’ and blamed it on the Tygerians, like he always did. It caused a big fight between him and King Davos, I believe. The king was angry that he was filling my father’s head full of what he called silly human stories.”
If the story about “butterflies” did happen to be true, then Kalen thought he must be full to the brim inside with the little insects.
“Are you feeling ill again? Tell me if you begin to feel that way and I’ll take you upstairs.” He took Kalen’s hand in his. “I don’t want you to be uncomfortable.”
Kalen began trembling the moment he touched him, and if his knees were suddenly weak from the intensity of that look, nobody needed to know that but him.
“You can still change your mind, you know,” Kalen blurted out. “About marrying me. My uncle could find me another husband.”
“Oh, could he?”
Kalen nodded, rushing on with his nervous chatter. “Or I could find one for myself. There are many of my officers who would no doubt oblige me. One of my colonels in particular always says…”
Prince Mikol suddenly pushed him back against the nearest wall, stretching him out and making him feel helpless. He seized Kalen’s wrists and pinned them by his sides as he stood in front of Kalen to block Dartan’s startled glance and his abortive move toward them.
“Stand down, Captain,” Mikol called to him over his shoulder. “I’m having a private word with my betrothed.” Dartan flushed and hesitated. Kalen knew he must be feeling torn between his duty to his own prince and the Tygerian’s forceful command.
Kalen heard Florin’s soft growl. “Do as you’re told, Captain, before I have to have a private word with you.” Dartan looked up at him in alarm and quickly took a step back.
