Page 65 of Made

The prince, sometimes uncharitably called the “spare” part of “heir and a spare”, hadn’t previously thought of his first home as the “seat of power”, but supposed that was true enough.

“Let’s go,” he said. And the two were off again.

Both Niall and Vidar were surprised to see the castle brightly lit with flags and banners flying like it was Chu Culain’s Day. They were also surprised to see an open space where foot-thick oak doors should be. Workmen were picking up splinters and chunks of wood from the ground.

“What happened here?” Niall demanded sans greeting or pleasantry.

The groundskeeper, who expected exactly that from the younger heir, just shook his head. “Unsure, Your Highness. But the rumor is that some horse battered down these old doors.”

“A horse?” Niall didn’t make the slightest effort to sound like he believed that tale.

“’Tis what we heard. Look here.” The man picked up a chunk of ruined door and pointed out what looked like a hoof strike. “Can’t be a coincidence that it happened shortly after the princess was born.”

“Princess?” Niall looked toward the castle like he hadn’t heard a niece was on the way. “Oh. The princess.”

“Aye. ‘Tis a fine day for Eire.” The workmen looked at the mess. “Or ‘twould be if I did no’ have to work in the middle of the night.”

“Let me help,” Vidar said. Without any visible show, the doors reassembled themselves and looked as good as the day they’d been originally installed.

The workman chuckled. “Thank ye kindly, sir. Might I know your name?”

“Vidar,” he said, while at the same time reaching out to see what might be sensed within the walls. He’d planned to locate the dragon egg and plant a message for the dragon to cause havoc when it was hatched. But he immediately knew that he’d be switching gears. The dragon was alreadyhatched. Probably as a result of the baby’s birth. He smiled to himself.Even easier.

“He’s a demigod,” Niall added. Being a narcissist of the highest order, he thought a friendly relationship with a demigod elevated his own status in the world.

“Niall,” Vidar said. “Does it strike you as strange that a maintenance worker would be trying to fix the doors?”

“What do you mean?” Niall asked. The prince was the sort who was observant about matters that interested him personally. All else was shuffled off to the irrelevant pile.

“The queen shouldn’t have any trouble doing what I just did. But…”

Niall looked at the doors that appeared newly milled. “She didn’t. Maybe she’s tired if she just had a baby.”

“What about the king? Couldn’t he fix the doors?”

“He could,” Niall agreed. “Maybe he’s no’ here.”

“Hmmm. Well, lead on. Show me what’s to be seen.”

“How ‘bout the kitchen? I’m hungry.”

Vidar chuckled. “Sure.”

Except for the blaze of lights in every room, one would’ve thought it was mid-afternoon. They sat at the large table that formed an island in the middle of a kitchen the size of most houses. A dozen or more staff were bustling about.

The prince stopped one of the porters as he was hurrying past. “What’s goin’ on?”

“The queen mum is havin’ a party for the babe.”

One of the cooks asked Niall what he’d like. “Beef and black ale stew,” he said before turning to Vidar. “You?”

“I’ll have one of those.” Vidar pointed to a large crystal bowl full of perfectly ripened persimmons. They were sometimes called the fruit of gods because they’reknown for lengthy engorgement of the penis. Always a fan favorite.

“Fruit?” Niall almost guffawed.

Vidar’s only response was a smug smile.

Niall seemed to understand that he was out of his league when it came to manly banter.