Chapter 5

P rince Phillip grabbed the tankard of ale and quaffed it, the liquid trickling down his chin as he did so. Then he thumped it back down on the table, grinning at his best mates. They cheered his ability to drink the pint in one gulp.

“Your turn, my friend,” Phillip said to Jeffrey, his best friend.

Jeffrey scowled as he grabbed the tankard in one hand. Charles and Phillip both cheered him on, but Phillip had the broadest grin of all. Around them, the tavern was a buzz of activity. None of the other patrons paid them any mind and the bartender didn’t realize the Crown Prince of Woodhaven was sitting under his roof.

Lord Jeffrey lifted the tankard and started to drink. Halfway through, he choked and slammed it down on the table with a loud thud. He huffed out a breath, his head falling to the table as he gulped in breaths. Phillip and Charles laughed.

“Maybe next time, old friend!” Phillip said, patting him on the back.

Jeffrey lifted his head and wiped his chin with the back of his hand, glaring at him. “Show off,” he muttered.

“Indeed, I am,” he said, sounding jovial.

“I’ll get us another round,” Charles said, rising and heading over to the bartender.

Phillip didn’t have the heart to tell him no. He was having too much of a good time. He leaned back in his chair, balancing it on the back two legs and watching the crowd around them. The tavern was packed this time of night with all types of men—and some women, too. Fisherman and hunters mostly. He and his friends spent the afternoon pretending to hunt pheasant. In truth, they killed nothing. He was windblown and tired, but happy.

Jeffrey ran a finger around the rim of his half-full tankard watching him watch the tavern.

“So, when are you going to fess up?” he asked, cutting him a glance.

“Fess up?” Phillip replied, his brows furrowed in question as he looked at him.

He and Jeffrey were friends their entire lives. They grew up together from the crib to now. They played cards together, gambled, chased women, hunted, fished, and everything in between. He dragged along his younger brother, Charles, on most of the hunting excursions.

Jeffrey leaned close and said, “The betrothal.”

Instantly, Phillip’s mood darkened. He frowned down into his empty tankard, wishing Charles would hurry with the next round.

“I don’t want to talk about it,” he said.

“Because it’s nearly time, isn’t it?” Jeffrey teased. “You and I both know the time of the wedding approaches. Aren’t you supposed to be in Myst Hall right now?”

“I said I don’t want to talk about it.”

Charles returned with three tankards and plopped them down in the middle of the table, the froth swishing over the edges.

“Talk about what?” he asked.

Before Phillip could answer, Jeffrey said, “His wedding.”

Charles’s face lit up in a bright smile. “You’re getting married?”

“Shh,” Phillip said, sitting forward. The front legs of the chair banged against the floor. “Keep your voice down.”

“Isn’t this a time for celebration?” Charles asked, still completely oblivious to Phillip’s annoyance.

“No, it isn’t,” he groused.

“It is,” Jeffrey corrected. “He just doesn’t want to admit it.”

“Why not?” Charles lowered to the chair opposite Phillip and slid one of the tankards toward him.

“Because it’s an arranged marriage,” Phillip said. “I’ve never even met the girl.”

“That’s not true,” Jeffrey corrected. “You have met her.”

“Meeting her when she was six months old does not count,” he snapped.

He remembered the day well. He and his parents had traveled to the Myst Kingdom to witness the christening of the princess. At the time, Phillip was six years old and was more interested in riding his horse and shooting his bow and arrows than anything else, much less attending a boring thing like a christening. In fact, he was bored most of the trip and even more bored when he was forced to stand at attention next to his parents during the ceremony. When he fidgeted, his mother pinched his earlobe to make him stop.

He recalled with some clarity the Fae royals arriving in grand fashion. It was somewhat of a special occasion as the Fae royals never left their own Courts for anything. But somehow, King Stephan had enticed them to come to the baby’s christening. His father said it was an invitation of good faith because, for whatever reason, King Stephan believed the Fae wanted to invade Stonebridge and expand their borders.

His father, however, thought that was nothing but folly. Even so, he had agreed to marry Phillip off to the princess. A cherub faced little squirming thing with pink skin.

Honestly, he never thought his father would go through with the betrothal. The last few weeks, though, he and his mother pestered him about the wedding and visiting Myst to meet his bride now that she had almost come of age. She would be eighteen soon and then they would marry.

It was why he snuck out early one morning with Charles and Jeffrey to go on a hunting expedition. A hunting expedition that was really nothing more than him avoiding his royal duties.

“So, when do you meet her for real?” Charles asked.

He had no idea what was going on inside Phillip’s head as he brooded about the betrothal.

“He’s supposed to be meeting her now,” Jeffrey said in his most helpful voice.

“He is? But he’s hunting with us.”

“And that’s exactly why I’m hunting with you.” Phillip reached for one of the tankards in the center and pulled it to him, frowning down into the amber liquid.

“You have to face it at some point,” Jeffrey said, a broad smile on his face.

“No, I don’t.”

Jeffrey chuckled. “Your mother asked me to escort you to Myst.”

His head snapped up. He gaped at his friend. “When did she ask you that?”

“Before we left, actually.” He took a sip of his ale. “She said I should let you have this one last…” he paused, searching for the word, “adventure, but then to please make sure you arrive at Myst Hall in a timely manner.”

Phillip scowled. He clutched the handle of the tankard and then quaffed the entire thing in one long gulp.

“It’s amazing that you can do that,” Charles said, his voice tinged with awe.

Phillip slammed down the tankard, then looked at his friend. “It’s a gift.” He took in a deep breath, then blew it out. “Perhaps it’s time for me to return home and prepare for my…” His words drifted off.

“For your upcoming nuptials?” Jeffrey chuckled. “I heartily agree.”

“Oh, can I come too? I’d love to see Phillip wed at long last,” Charles chided.

“ You can stay home,” Phillip growled.

Charles merely laughed. “If you insist, your highness. Won’t all the ladies of the court be devastated when they learn you’re spoken for?”

Jeffrey laughed at that. “They indeed will! Perhaps I’ll take your place as the resident rogue.”

Phillip glared at his friend, then gave him a devilish grin. “You can try, my friend. You can certainly try.”

But Phillip had no intention of going to Myst Hall. In fact, when they returned home, he would find a way to slip into the night, away from the castle. He wasn’t interested in court politics or a betrothal to a princess he’d never met. What if she’d grown up to be a troll? No, he would find his own way.

He’d pack a bag and leave behind the castle and his princely title forever.