Page 24 of The Most Unsuitable Prince (Another Arranged Marriage #8)

It was time. Winter had made a promise, and now it was time for him to have “the talk” with Rupert. It had been two days since Winter had managed to grit his teeth, for the most part, through the treatment for the shetherin that had caused him so much pain, and to then fully heal.

Once that secondary infection had completely gone, which had taken the twenty-four hours Rupert had indicated, it didn’t take long for Sigmund’s masterful healing skills to heal the gryphon claw wound.

Winter’s belly was now free of marks apart from a small scar left by the deepest part of where the claw had caught him.

But aside from that one little blemish, Winter was once more as comfortable and as energetic as he’d ever been.

There was another reason behind Winter’s decision that the talk had to be now.

A missive had arrived from the World Council that morning.

The department Winter worked for was concerned that the gryphon parents of the youngster he had captured were more likely to cause a disturbance in the area if they couldn’t find their young.

The gryphons had no reason for being in Simigile at all, leading to further concerns that they may be diseased or rogue creatures.

The only other suggestion was that the beasts had followed a dragon into the area, but there were no known dragons in Simigile.

The king had confirmed that himself in response to a seemingly casual question Winter had asked during one of their conversations.

Concerned about that and the possible chances of sightings among the locals, the World Council wanted Winter to take care of the problem before a sighting might cause widespread panic around the country.

Winter could understand their unease, and under normal circumstances their request wouldn’t have been a problem.

He had fully intended to go back out after the gryphon parents as soon as he had healed from the original claw wound.

His husband had – at that point – at least three more weeks of socializing that Winter was aware of, so disappearing for half a day wouldn’t be a problem.

But Rupert had returned, and for whatever reason, he didn’t seem keen on leaving Winter’s side for the foreseeable future. No official announcement had been made, but it appeared all his engagements had been canceled.

Sigmund, Pippin, and August had all tried to think of excuses where they could still be out, without Rupert knowing where they had gone.

But Winter stopped that discussion when some of the suggestions moved into the ridiculous category.

He had already made his promise to share his secrets, and compounding lies on top of the ones he’d already told was not the right thing to do.

Hence, the dinner date. The two of them, private, alone, and… I’m probably going to shock his pants off, but not in the way he might have hoped.

Yes, Winter was aware of Rupert’s growing interest in him.

Unbeknownst to Rupert, that interest was returned, but again Winter felt the weight of his secrets pressing heavy on him anytime there was a stirring under his robe.

It was enough, for now, that Rupert seemed to enjoy spending time in his company over anyone else.

Humming quietly as he ran his comb through his hair, Winter realized that he was enjoying Rupert’s company, too. Away from the pomp and ceremony of staged events, and without an entourage of society friends, Rupert was a quiet and thoughtful man who was prone to occasional flashes of insight.

There were humorous stories shared between the two men as well.

Rupert told tales of the funny things that he’d gotten up to as he had been growing up, and Winter did the same as much as he was able to.

There had been heartfelt moments, too. In one instance Rupert had broken down, speaking about how lost and afraid he felt when his mother had died.

Winter could relate, his grief over his own mother’s passing was only two years old.

But in contrast to Winter, Rupert had been a child when his mother passed, and he had no siblings to help comfort him.

While Rupert’s father was extremely loving and doted on his only son, Winter was also aware that the duties of being a king had to take precedence when it meant looking after the needs of so many.

It was not surprising that Rupert basically fell in with the first group of people who saw their chance to get closer to the throne by being friends with the crown prince. It was a sad situation that had been repeated in courts all over the known world. Winter knew he was one of the lucky ones.

Shaking his head free of sad thoughts, Winter glanced at his appearance in the mirror.

For once, he had decided to forgo his lavish robes or anything that gave the appearance of a uniform.

He wore a simple cotton shirt and a comfortable pair of pants.

His heart pumped an extra beat as he heard the castle bell toll.

Rupert will be here soon. The man was never late, which was another positive as far as Winter was concerned.

He could hear Sigmund and Pippin organizing a dining area in their outer chamber.

Rupert and Winter had both visited the king earlier that afternoon.

The man was in fine spirits, but Winter could still see that age was taking its toll.

The one thing there was no cure for. The smile the king gave them both, seeing them enter his room holding hands, helped convince Winter he was doing the right thing.

Now all we have to do, or all I have to do, is convince my husband that I’m not mentally impaired in any way when I explain to him what it is I do, he thought, checking his appearance one last time.

Winter chuckled as he caught himself doing it.

There was no need to primp or make himself look any different than he already did.

Rupert had seen him at his worst - sweaty and racked with pain because of that shetherin infection.

Yet he had still kept Winter company, and while Winter wasn’t sure why, he found he was really glad that the Rupert he was getting to know wasn’t anything like the Rupert he’d researched before they’d gotten married.

Realizing that he was lingering in his bedchamber for absolutely no reason at all, Winter grinned and winked at his reflection one last time before making his way through the bedchamber and out into the outer chamber that served as his sitting room.

Sigmund and Pippin had done a beautiful job of making it suitable for a private dinner date.

August wanted to be there too, but he was running an errand for the council somewhere just south of Simigile. Winter felt a pang, knowing that it was only a matter of days before August would be leaving Simigile and heading to Southland or Martingale.

August had been non-committal about his destination.

He said he was waiting for more information from their father, and Winter had a quiet hope that August had asked to go back to Martingale so that he could court the lovely lady who had caught his eye.

That would be a different form of hunting from the type August is used to , Winter thought.

The table decorations were beautiful, simplistic, elegant, and laid out just the way that Winter knew Rupert would appreciate. “The table looks lovely,” he said warmly. “Thank you both so much.”

“The food will be here at the next bell,” Sigmund said, straightening from where he’d been fussing with the cutlery.

“Pippin will be around in his usual fashion. You won’t see him, but I’m sure you can understand why he needs to stay close, Your Highness.

Are you absolutely sure this is what you want to do? ”

“I’m convinced we have to take a chance,” Winter said.

“There is a strong precedent in our family to have happy and supportive marriages. Look at the king, for example, or Martin and Julian. Their wives have been remarkably supportive of what they do. Wasn’t it only about four months ago when Belle went hunting with Julian and captured her first gryphon? ”

“It wasn’t a gryphon, sir,” Sigmund said. “It was a lot smaller species, some type of wolverine or similar, I’m not sure.” But he nodded. “I understand what you mean, sir. I’m just...”

“You are always looking out for me.” Winter patted his adviser’s shoulder and smiled at Pippin. “Both of you. I know that you care, and that you just want what’s best for me. I’m also aware…if Rupert doesn’t accept this, then we will all have to move on, which will be a shame.”

He glanced around the comfortable room. “I don’t know about you, but I’ve gotten quite used to being in this castle.”

“It’s an exceptionally well run and comfortable place,” Sigmund agreed. “Pippin, you’d better scoot off. The crown prince will be here shortly.”

Sketching a quick bow, Pippin disappeared into Winter’s bathroom. Winter grinned. “I think we can both guess where he’s going,” he muttered softly. “But very well…” They both tilted their heads toward the door at the sound of a quiet knock.

“I imagine that will be your husband.” Sigmund checked over the table one last time. He was a true perfectionist. “I’m sure that’s everything. Your food is ordered, and there are drinks by the fireplace. Pippin will be where Pippin will be - he will alert me if there’re any difficulties…”

“You mean if we have to make a speedy exit?” Winter laughed softly. “We haven’t had to do that for a while, so let’s hope it doesn’t come to that.”

He walked over to the outer door with Sigmund, opened it, and let Sigmund out.

Sure enough, Rupert was standing in the hallway, looking a little uncertain.

He looked very smart, dressed entirely in black, which was often Rupert’s way, and his hair was tied back off his face.

What was unusual was that he was holding a small gift box.