Unsurprisingly, Taliesin found himself in the little garden again. It wasn’t exactly the best hiding place – he came here too often for that. He didn’t really think his mother would be too upset by the desertion though. When he’d left to go find Daniel, she’d been lightheartedly badgering his father about something to do with the tariffs that were upsetting the trade of something she wanted for decorating their rooms.
The garden was quiet, as usual, and a quick circuit actually proved it was deserted. Not even Mikhail was out and about, and Taliesin tamped down on the disappointment that that generated. Mikhail likely had lots of duties that didn’t involve catering to spoiled, nosy princes. And days off, where he didn’t have to be in the gardens.
Taliesin settled on the bench beneath the magnolia tree, noting that most of the blossoms had shed their petals already. A few more days and there would be no flowers left on the tree. Taliesin pulled his legs up, settling in cross-legged.
He had a fitting later that afternoon, and he should probably attend court dinner tonight too. He needed to work on matching faces with names so he could sound like he hadn’t been living in sickness-induced exile at the summer house for a decade. Taliesin sighed, setting his chin in his hands and his elbows on his knees.
He didn’t really want to attend the celebration. There would be dancing. Taliesin didn’t know how to dance – it was one of the things he was often too ill to have the energy for, so the only dances he knew were the really old fashioned, boring ones that had three repeating steps to them.
There would also be socializing, and Taliesin was going to forget someone’s name or call someone by a name that would offend them or accidentally accept an invitation to do something he didn’t want to do or worse, be ignored the whole evening.
Taliesin made a face, wishing he could skip the whole thing and face it once he’d been here for a year and was well aware of who people were and how to easily brush off faux pas. Maybe he could hang around Lucas. That would certainly be entertaining.
Or Vincent, though Taliesin didn’t doubt that Daniel wouldn’t be happy with that. Taliesin frowned thoughtfully, wondering if he could ask Vincent about his side of it. But he hadn’t seemed happy about it earlier, and Taliesin didn’t want him to think that he had to tell Taliesin in order to prove that he wasn’t out to get political favors out of him.
Taliesin shifted slightly, tilting his head as he caught sight of movement out of the corner of his eye. Caspian was crossing the soft grass of the garden off to his slightly behind him and off to the left – Taliesin blinked, startled because he hadn’t heard Caspian move and he thought Caspian was still right behind him, under the magnolia tree.
He was approaching Mikhail, who was looking particularly grubby. Taliesin wondered what he’d been up to, and where, since he hadn’t seen Mikhail on his previous trip around the garden.
And then Taliesin ducked his head, pretending to be studying his hands but watching them out of the corner of his eye, because it didn’t seem like Caspian wanted Taliesin to notice what he was doing. Mikhail glanced his way once before Caspian reached him, and then his face settled into the annoyed look Taliesin had gotten the first few times he’d talked with Mikhail.
Caspian didn’t seem too put out, but his back was to Taliesin and a bit of Taliesin’s hair was in the way so he couldn’t see Caspian properly. They spoke for a few moments – and Taliesin was intensely curious about what – before Caspian turned away from Mikhail. Taliesin pretended to be interested in a bit of dirt beneath his fingernails, trying to act like he hadn’t noticed a thing.
Mikhail hadn’t moved, just looked a lot more annoyed. Caspian had probably said something about Taliesin, because there was little other reason for him to approach Mikhail. But what? Caspian hadn’t given any indication he thought Mikhail was dangerous or bad for Taliesin to hang around. He hadn’t actually said anything about Mikhail, and Taliesin made a note to solicit his opinion on Mikhail.
As well as to badger him about what he’d said. Mikhail abruptly turned away, heading back inside, and Taliesin sighed, uncurling himself. Probably Caspian had been warning him away – it couldn’t be good form for a prince to be friendly with a gardener.
It shouldn’t matter though. Taliesin twisted, turning so that he could meet Caspian’s eyes over the back of the bench. Caspian met his look with a raised eyebrow, looking perfectly at ease underneath the magnolia tree. And quite like he hadn’t left the spot since he’d followed Taliesin out here.
“What did you say to him?” Taliesin asked, keeping his tone curious. Caspian shook his head, but he was smiling.
“Nothing important, highness,” Caspian assured him, raising his eyebrows slightly. “Just reminding him about something.”
“What?” Taliesin pressed and Caspian laughed, approaching the bench slowly.
“A previous engagement,” Caspian said with a wink. Taliesin let that process before blushing faintly – it hadn’t seemed like Caspian was involved with Mikhail, not when they always seemed to ignore each other on Taliesin’s visits to the garden. Taliesin’s stomach twisted unpleasantly as Caspian laughed again, shaking his head.
“Not that sort of rendezvous, highness,” Caspian reassured. Taliesin ducked his head, wondering at himself. Surely he didn’t care what Caspian and Mikhail got up to off-hours. “There’s a monthly card game he and I both partake in when we have the opportunity. I was just informing him of a change in location.”
“Oh,” Taliesin said, fidgeting. “Do you know… what card game?” Taliesin asked, trying to smother his embarrassment. Turning a little, he glanced back to where Mikhail had been before Caspian had approached him. Mikhail wasn’t there, of course, and Taliesin fought the urge to fidget.
“Old maid,” Caspian drawled, startling a laugh out of Taliesin.
“Do you know Mikhail well?” Taliesin asked carefully, not wanting Caspian to get the wrong idea. He was curious though – Taliesin didn’t know much about Mikhail – only that he hadn’t always been a gardener, but that he liked it and didn’t want to talk about his past.
“My room is next to his,” Caspian said with an indulgent smile. Taliesin made a face at him, because that wasn’t very helpful and Caspian seemed to be getting the wrong idea anyway. Taliesin had already decided he wasn’t dealing with anything related to romance until he was more settled here.
“And?” Taliesin prompted and Caspian laughed, leaning down.
“And he’s coming up behind you so you can ask him what you want to know,” Caspian whispered, laughing again at the look Taliesin gave him. Taliesin turned away, twisting to sit properly on the bench. Sure enough, Mikhail was behind him. He wasn’t exactly approaching the bench though, but instead was heading along the path with a large watering can. He paused next to the irises and started tilting water out onto them, and Taliesin sighed, watching him for a long minute before standing up.
“I have a fitting I need to go to,” Taliesin told Caspian, sounding as unenthusiastic as he felt. “Do you know where the rose sitting room is?”
“I do,” Caspian confirmed, glancing past Taliesin to where Mikhail was. Taliesin ignored him and started to walk towards the palace instead. He could think about Mikhail’s mysteries later, and maybe actually get some details out of Caspian about Mikhail later.
~~@ @~~
The fitting was every bit as awkward and tedious as Taliesin had thought it would be. He’d been poked and prodded from every direction, had everything measured, and was sure there were still pins embedded in his skin from the fumbling apprentice who had been nice but clumsy.
To top it off, Taliesin left the rose sitting room feeling exhausted and wishing he could just crawl into bed for a few hours. Except he couldn’t because he needed to go to dinner and learn more of the nobles’ faces and reassure his mother he hadn’t died of exposure searching out Daniel earlier.
Taliesin trudged down the hallway, pretending that if he didn’t think about anything he could pretend he’d spent the trip to his room sleeping. Even if that was ludicrous.
Taliesin was nearly to his rooms when he ran into Vincent. Almost literally – only a quick sidestep by Vincent kept them from crashing into each other as Vincent flew around the last corner between Taliesin and his rooms.
“Sorry, highness,” Vincent said hastily, glancing behind him furtively. “I wasn’t looking where I was going.”
“It’s okay,” Taliesin dismissed immediately, blinking a few times. Vincent smiled at him distractedly, edging around him.
“I apologize, but I really do need to be going.” Vincent bowed slightly. Straightening, he paused, frowning slightly at Taliesin. “Are you alright, highness?”
“Taliesin,” Taliesin corrected, making a face. “And I’m –” Taliesin began, but cut off abruptly as Daniel rounded the corner, looking furious. Vincent’s eyes widened and his face turned a shade paler than normal.
“We were not finished,” Daniel snapped, and Taliesin blinked, taken aback because he didn’t think he’d ever seen Daniel that riled before. Daniel’s mouth clicked shut though, when he caught sight of Taliesin.
“Hi,” Taliesin greeted hesitantly, wondering what had caused Daniel to actually talk to Vincent again. Vincent was watching Daniel with a look that was part wariness, part sadness, and part… longing?
“If you’ll excuse me,” Vincent said stiffly when it seemed like Daniel had lost his ability to speak. “I have a prior engagement.”
“Oh, no you don’t,” Daniel muttered under his breath as Vincent nodded quickly to both of them before taking off at a brisk walk. “Excuse me, Tal.”
“Bye,” Taliesin offered as Daniel took off after Vincent. He waited until they were out of sight to laugh, biting his lip as he contemplated following them… but no, Daniel would kill him. Smiling a little, Taliesin made his way around the corner and down the hallway to where his bedroom was, hoping that they worked out their disagreement. Then he wouldn’t have to explain to Daniel that he hadn’t exactly thrown Vincent out on his ear for being Vincent.
~~@ @~~
Taliesin was late to dinner. Not by much, but enough to draw a disapproving look from his mother and a bit of teasing from Lucas. Daniel was nowhere to be seen, and to Taliesin’s amusement, neither was Vincent. He hoped they hadn’t killed themselves in the time it took him to get dressed and to the dining room.
Lucas was sitting on his left, alternating between passing along bits of gossip and drilling him on the names of people in the room.
“And her?” Lucas pointed out a young lady in an obscenely bright violet dress. She even had a small, violet flower tucked into her elaborately done hair.
“Um,” Taliesin stalled, thinking as he fiddled with his soup. “Lady… no, Countess Delores Fallhart?”
“Yep,” Lucas confirmed, grinning. Taliesin set aside his spoon and picked up his teacup, sipping at the hot, sweet liquid. “If you think the dress she’s wearing now is bad, wait until you see what she wears to your party tomorrow night.”
“Oh.” Taliesin winced, making a face as the servants replaced the soup in front of them with a plate of lamb. “Does she dress herself?”
Lucas laughed, flashing a grin at their mother when she glanced over suspiciously. Taliesin smiled, sitting against the back of his chair and trying not to yawn. He wanted nothing more than to crawl into bed for the evening.
“She only started dressing like that after she got married – can you pick out her husband? He’s not sitting with her,” Lucas said, picking up his wineglass and scanning the dining room. Taliesin followed suit, searching for the Count.
“I don’t see him,” Taliesin said after a minute of fruitless searching. He could place names with about half the faces now, which meant he was going to fumble something badly tomorrow night.
“He’s not here,” Lucas said with a grin. “Neither, I see, is Lord Thedor.”
“Does he come every night?” Taliesin asked curiously, glancing at the empty spot at the table next to him.
“Not necessarily, though it’s rare to see both him and Daniel gone on the same night,” Lucas said, looking thoughtful as he attacked the next plate set in front of him – some sort of greens set in a sauce that Taliesin didn’t recognize. He ignored it, not really hungry. He’d eat some of the later courses or something, because he should eat, even if being tired suppressed what little appetite he had.
“You think it’s related?” Taliesin asked innocently, wondering what on earth had sparked Daniel running after Vincent like he’d been.
“Oh, you know something,” Lucas said appraisingly, setting down his fork with a clatter that earned them another glare from their mother. “Tell me, Tal.”
“I don’t know anything,” Taliesin protested, smothering a smile – it came out a yawn instead, but Taliesin would take it. “But I told Daniel I wouldn’t ask you about what happened between them.”
Lucas grinned, shaking his head. “I’d tell you.”
“I can’t ask,” Taliesin emphasized, giving Lucas a beseeching look. Lucas laughed loudly, twisting in a chair to face Taliesin more squarely.
“Well, that doesn’t mean I can’t tell you, right?” Lucas asked, winking. Taliesin nodded, sipping at his tea again and clenching his jaw to keep in another yawn. He was not tired. He hadn’t done nearly enough to day to make himself tired. It was probably the last few days catching up with him, but he wasn’t going to go to bed any earlier than he had been doing. He could sleep in tomorrow or something.
“Well, they’d been doing well enough. Vincent’s family is embroiled in some sort of feud with the Wellworths, did you know?” Lucas asked, ignoring servants as they switched the plates again.
“Yes,” Taliesin nodded. “Something about wedding jitters a few generations ago.”
“Yep,” Lucas confirmed. “Anyway, something happened to one of the stupid twits – I mean, one of the Wellworth girls – in the Thedor province. I think she got it on with a peasant, but her parents weren’t pleased… no, wait, that was the Carmichael girl. I don’t remember. Something happened, her parents weren’t happy, and they demanded retribution.
“The Thedors refused, said something about how it wasn’t their fault she wasn’t properly protected. Vincent brought the subject up with Daniel – and they always talked politics, but Daniel thought this was an off limits topic since it affected Vincent personally. They fought over it. Now they don’t talk, because they’re both too stubborn to apologize.”
“Can we fix it?” Taliesin asked, contemplating ways of working out the grudge between them. “Should we try to fix it?”
“Vincent was good for Daniel, but they’re both stubborn asses – sorry, mother,” Lucas said over his shoulder to their mother. She narrowed her eyes, poking Lucas’s shoulder with her folded fan.
“Do not be corrupting your younger brother, Lucas, or I will make you sit in on the negotiations with Lagan for the port rights,” she threatened, and Taliesin briefly wondered what Mikhail’s life had been like, growing up on an island. He probably knew how to swim.
“Yes, ma’am,” Lucas agreed cheerfully. “Though I’m sure he’s heard worse.”
“Um,” Taliesin said when they both looked at him. “No?”
Lucas laughed, ruffling his hair as their mother sighed.
“Just be good,” she admonished, squinting at Taliesin. “Are you alright, Taliesin?”
“I’m fine,” Taliesin said, keeping most of his exasperation out of his voice.
“Alright. Just make sure you get to bed early tonight, honey. It’ll be a long day tomorrow,” she admonished. Taliesin nodded, waiting until she turned back to his father to roll his eyes. Lucas smirked, leaning back in his chair and picking up his wineglass again.
“So what about you, Tal?” Lucas asked, waggling his eyebrows cheerfully. “Got any crushes? Crushes that aren’t on Daniel’s man?”
“I did not have a crush on Vincent,” Taliesin defended, thinking of Mikhail for some reason. He was tired, really, that was all. “He approached me. And no, I don’t.”
“I don’t think I believe you,” Lucas said thoughtfully, dragging out the words slowly.
“You can ask Caspian. He can tell you that Vincent approached me first,” Taliesin said helpfully, smiling a little when Lucas rolled his eyes.
“There are lots of other prospects, Tal. Don’t get fixated on Thedor,” Lucas lectured playfully. “I’m sure Isabelle would love to set you up with one of her cousins.”
“No,” Taliesin refused quickly. “I’m not doing romance yet.”
“Oh?” Lucas’s eyebrows rose. “Did Vincent turn you off of romantic intrigues?”
“It’s just better,” Taliesin defended. “Until I know more about the nobles and their connections and if they’ve ever been involved with one of you, I don’t want to worry about it.”
“You’re too damn smart, Tal,” Lucas complained. “It shouldn’t be smart – more heart than brain, do you know what I mean?”
“I don’t have to listen to you,” Taliesin replied with a grin. “Did you even ask Isabelle to the celebration tomorrow night?”
“What does Isabelle have to do with this?” Lucas asked innocently. Taliesin snickered, setting down his teacup. “She turned me down, actually.”
“Really,” Taliesin said, looking surprised. “Why? She likes you.”
“She likes you, too,” Lucas said cheerfully. “But I think her actual excuse was something along the lines of not having the right dress to wear to be seen with the crown prince at a ball.”
“Okay,” Taliesin said slowly, confused.
“She did promise the next ball, though,” Lucas continued, glancing down at the tables – Isabelle wasn’t in attendance tonight, but Lucas kept glancing towards the seat she normally took anyway. “Which isn’t for another month, but I’m going to monopolize her for the dances at tomorrow’s ball.”
“Yay?” Taliesin offered weakly, reminded again how badly he was going to flounder tomorrow night.
“I’m can lend her to you for a few dances, if you like?” Lucas offered, as a servant leaned past Taliesin to refill his teacup. Taliesin smiled gratefully at the servant before picking up the cup to cradle in his hands. The warmth of the tea seeped through the ceramic cup, warming his fingers.
“I can’t dance,” Taliesin admitted softly.
“We all dance,” Lucas refuted, laughing. “I’m sure you can manage for a few songs.”
“I can’t dance,” Taliesin repeated, seriously. “It’s one of the lessons I couldn’t take at the summer house.”
“Oh,” Lucas said, looking startled. “Why didn’t you say so before, Tal? It’s not too late to learn, you know.”
“I didn’t think of it until earlier,” Taliesin said, staring into his tea cup and slumping even further in his chair.
“Well, I’m sure – hold on.” Lucas set down his wine glass and turned back to their mother, subtly drawing her attention and whispering furiously with her for a few minutes. Taliesin ignored them, sipping at his tea and eyeing the plate before him with disdain. It was bright, yellow, and looked suspiciously fruity.
“I’m kidnapping you a few hours tomorrow, Tal,” Lucas announced, turning back to him. “We’ll see if we can’t teach you a few dances before the ball tomorrow.”
“Okay, but wear sturdy shoes if you value your toes,” Taliesin warned, sipping at his tea as Lucas laughed.
“Daniel can help too, if he’s not busy,” Lucas mused thoughtfully. “And we’ll teach you for the next ball, too. Maybe Isabelle would be willing to demonstrate with me.”
Taliesin smiled, swallowing his laughter. “Maybe once I get a little better at it?”
“Sure,” Lucas agreed amiably. “Do you have any last-minute fittings or anything tomorrow?”
“I think just the ball, and getting ready for it,” Taliesin said thoughtfully. “Unless there’s something scheduled that I don’t know about.”
“Unlikely,” Lucas decided. “I’ll find you late morning then, give you a chance to sleep in.”
“Thanks,” Taliesin murmured, setting down his tea. “I think I’m going to go.”
“Before dessert?” Lucas asked, feigning horror. Taliesin laughed, poking him in the arm.
“I’m sure you’ll eat enough of it for me, too,” Taliesin said, standing up slowly. “See you tomorrow.”
“It’s true,” Lucas agreed easily. “Dessert is the best part of the meal. Goodnight, Taliesin.”
Taliesin smiled, saying his goodnights to his parents, Nicholas, and Marissa (Richard was missing for some reason as well, though that was much more common than Daniel being missing). He made it back to his room and barely had the energy to take off his overcoat before he collapsed into bed, falling asleep almost immediately.
~~@ @~~
Taliesin woke up with a headache. Groaning softly, because of course, it figured he’d get the start of a cold or something the day of the celebration of his health and return to the palace. Ignoring it, Taliesin shoved his way out of bed.
He was still dressed in last night’s clothes. Making a face, Taliesin stripped quickly and tugged on the dressing robe that hung at the end of his bed. He was going to eat breakfast and get dressed, and then he’d feel completely better and not at all like he should sleep for another week.
Taliesin sulked into the sitting room, unsurprised to find Caspian settled in one of the armchairs and breakfast set out on the sideboard.
“No family breakfast this morning?” Taliesin asked, even though he’d meant to ring for breakfast to be brought to his room anyway. Caspian shook his head, looking thoughtful.
“Not on ball days,” Caspian said slowly. “There’s too much to do, I suppose.”
“Hmm,” Taliesin murmured, selecting a few pastries and some fruit before settling in one of the chairs across from Caspian. Perhaps the headache would stay just that, a dull ache in the back of his head. It might even go away, unlikely though that was.
Taliesin couldn’t let anyone realize that he might possibly be getting sick. He didn’t want anyone to be worrying about him, and he didn’t want to force his mother to postpone the ball. If he said something, there was a chance his mother would decide he’d do better at the summer house again, and if there was one thing Taliesin did not want, it was to be stuck at the summer house, sick, again.
“Highness,” Caspian spoke up, drawing him from his thoughts. He was studying Taliesin thoughtfully, and Taliesin hoped fervently that he wasn’t flushed or anything obvious. “What are your intentions with regards to Mikhail?”
“Mikhail?” Taliesin repeated, confused. “What do you mean?”
Caspian stared at him patiently, and Taliesin tried to make Caspian’s question make sense. Maybe Caspian was better friends with Mikhail than he’d made himself out to be?
“He’s teaching me about plants,” Taliesin said slowly, nibbling at one of his pastries. He wasn’t really hungry – but he wasn’t stupid enough to not eat when he might be getting sick.
“Highness,” Caspian said, leaning forward in his seat. “Is that all?”
Taliesin blinked, blushing a little because this was almost worse than Lucas pressing about whether he liked anyone other than Vincent yet. Taliesin squirmed in his seat, taking another bite of pastry to forestall answering.
But really, why would Taliesin pick Mikhail to like? Mikhail was a gardener, though, if Taliesin was being honest with himself, Mikhail was nice to look at. Taliesin liked the way he smiled, and how he seemed to really enjoy gardening, and the way he wouldn’t call Taliesin by name but didn’t sound at all deferential when he called Taliesin “my lord” (not even “highness”).
“Um,” Taliesin managed, even more confused now. “I don’t know.”
Caspian stared at him thoughtfully, and Taliesin took another bite of pastry before he blurted out something more embarrassing.
“Alright,” Caspian accepted. “Just let me know if that changes. I don’t want to see either of you hurt.”
“Okay,” Taliesin accepted, trying to sort out his thoughts and not succeeding very well. Putting it aside to think about later, Taliesin finished off his breakfast and returned to his bedroom to actually get dressed. Maybe if he was quick about it, he could make a trip out to the gardens and see if Mikhail had done anything new in the last few days.
And that was something he’d do normally, too. He wasn’t going to see Mikhail, even if Caspian might think that. Taliesin made a note to mention to Caspian that he was going to the garden for the plants today, not for Mikhail. Except that made it sound like he’d gone to the garden for Mikhail on other days.
Probably it would be best if he didn’t go to the garden. But he’d settle for not saying why he was going to the garden. Taliesin sighed at himself – he was being silly – and quickly changed. He didn’t put a whole lot of effort into his outfit, since he’d only have half a day before he had to run back here to get changed for the ball.
He had to find Lucas at some point to get dance lessons too. Taliesin shook his head, smoothing out the pale blue shirt he’d pulled on before moving to pick up his jacket. He really shouldn’t go out, because of the dance lessons. But Taliesin wanted to. To see if there were any new plants. The garden was relaxing, too, and it would keep him from fretting too much about this evening’s festivities. Tugging on his jacket, Taliesin pushed thoughts of Mikhail firmly out of his head and headed out to the sitting room.
~~@ @~~
It was raining. Well, more drizzling, Taliesin decided, hesitating on the edge of the garden. Mikhail likely wouldn’t be out in this weather; but Taliesin wasn’t here for Mikhail.
“I don’t think this is a good idea, highness,” Caspian spoke up from behind him. “You’ll catch a chill.”
“I will not,” Taliesin refuted, but he didn’t move, staring out at the garden. From what he could see from the doorway (letting rain in to drip on the tile at his feet), the some of the flower blossoms were closed against the rain. Taliesin made a note to ask Mikhail about that the next time he saw him, his eyes seeking out the magnolia tree at the edge of the garden.
“If you’re going to be stupid, forget I ever said anything about Mikhail, highness,” Caspian said, sounding exasperated as he pulled Taliesin away from the open doorway and shut the doors for him. Taliesin sneezed, making a face.
“I’m not being stupid,” Taliesin protested, rubbing at his nose. “I wasn’t going to go out there.”
Caspian frowned at him, looking contemplative, but Taliesin just stared back, wondering why Caspian had decided to go crazy all of a sudden.
“I’m going back to my rooms,” Taliesin said, frustrated. Turning away from Caspian, he ran straight into something solid and moving. He didn’t fall, surprisingly, and Taliesin blinked at Mikhail a few times, his cheeks heating as he realized how close he was standing to Mikhail. The way Mikhail was steadying him with a gentle grip on his arms wasn’t helping either.
“Sorry,” Taliesin said after a moment, forcing his mouth to work despite it not wanting to. “I need to look where I’m going.”
“It’s okay,” Mikhail dismissed absently, carefully letting him go. “Are you alright?”
Taliesin nodded, taking a circumspect step back. As though distance would make his cheeks cool.
“I’m fine,” Taliesin replied softly, his head starting to ache even more fiercely. He did not like Mikhail. He barely knew Mikhail – like he’d barely known Vincent, though there at least Vincent liked him in return. At least a little. Mikhail barely tolerated him most of the time.
“Caspian,” Mikhail snapped, glaring at Caspian past Taliesin. “You –” Mikhail began, but cut himself off, surreptitiously glancing at Taliesin before scowling at Caspian again. Taliesin just watched, confused all over again. Mikhail cursed a few times under his breath, and Taliesin thought he might have caught a few words of Laganese, but he wasn’t sure.
Mikhail turned on his heel and stalked away, pushing through the garden doors and out into the rain without another word. Taliesin stared after him, only briefly debating following – but Mikhail didn’t like him; he wouldn’t take kindly to Taliesin following him out into the rain over some fight with Caspian either. Especially since Caspian would have to follow him.
“Can I go back to bed?” Taliesin asked after a moment, moving to shut the garden doors. He made sure they didn’t lock, because he wasn’t going to make Mikhail’s mood worse by locking him in the garden when it was raining.
“If you want, highness,” Caspian said deferentially, falling into step behind Taliesin. Taliesin shook his head, but didn’t reply. He couldn’t go back to bed – he had too much to do. Lucas was probably looking for him now (and inventing illicit stories about why Taliesin wasn’t on time, because Taliesin had been there when he’d been waiting for Marissa).
~~@ @~~
“You’re not my favorite brother anymore,” Taliesin said with as much seriousness as he could muster. Lucas just laughed, tugging at a bit of his hair playfully.
“Come on, it’s not really that difficult,” Lucas enticed, gesturing for the stray musicians he’d recruited to start up again. Taliesin sighed, sagging, but let Lucas pull him into the dance again.
“The one-two-three step,” Lucas reminded him as Taliesin nearly stumbled over Lucas’s feet. Making a face, he corrected his stance, concentrating on how his feet were supposed to be moving and not how much they ached.
“That’s better,” Lucas complimented, letting him go as the song wound down. “Just do that or the two-four step and you’ll be fine.”
“I’m going to die,” Taliesin decided, pushing his hair out of his face and sighing loudly. Lucas just laughed, ruffling his hair.
“You’ll do fine. You’re too cute for anyone to take offense to you stepping on their toes, anyway,” Lucas told him, grinning as he shooed Taliesin towards the door. “You should get something to eat before you get ready. There’ll be food, but no real meal so it can be hard to eat.”
“Okay,” Taliesin agreed, stifling the urge to sneeze. He’d already sneezed on Lucas twice – and that was something he hadn’t worried about. What if he sneezed on someone?
“And ask for some of Bella’s tea,” Lucas advised, ruffling Taliesin’s hair as they left the ballroom. “It’ll perk you up some.”
“I’m fine,” Taliesin protested, even though he knew it wasn’t true. He was only more tired after spending three hours being dragged around the ballroom, dodging servants and the preparations to transform the ballroom into something even grander than it already was.
“Uh-huh,” Lucas agreed, guiding Taliesin towards the back of the palace.
“Where are we going?” Taliesin asked, confused as they took a turn he wasn’t familiar with. Lucas just grinned, hooking arms with him. They were about the same height, so it wasn’t as awkward as it was when Richard or Nicholas did it.
“It’s a surprise,” Lucas declared, pulling Taliesin through another doorway. Taliesin caught the scent of something spicy as Lucas pulled him down a narrow hallway, mixed heavily with the sweet smell of cinnamon. That, combined with the clatter of dishes and quickly barked orders made Taliesin decide they were headed for the kitchens.
“Bella!” Lucas shouted into the kitchen, tugging Taliesin in after him. Taliesin blinked, flinching back when a servant whirled by with a platter of tiny sandwiches. She disappeared out a wider, brighter doorway at the end of the kitchen, followed by two more servants laden with platters.
“Do it yourself, Luke!” a woman of middling years shouted back from across the kitchen. She was up to her elbows in flour, with matching streaks coloring her forehead and left cheek white.
“Yes, ma’am,” Lucas called, nudging Taliesin towards the back of the room. There was another doorway, obviously leading to a large pantry. Shelves stuffed with foodstuff, tins, and neatly labeled glass jars lined each wall, reaching far above Taliesin’s head.
Lucas picked out a tiny jar with a smudged label, half a meat pie, a half-empty bottle of wine, and a couple of apples. He pressed it all into Taliesin’s arms and ducked them around a harried looking kitchen girl who headed straight to the back of the pantry for something.
“Here, I’ll fetch utensils. Wait for me in the hall,” Lucas directed, giving him a nudge towards the door they’d come in. Taliesin stepped out of the kitchen with relief, his head ringing from the noise. Leaning against the wall, he watched Lucas navigate the crowd of kitchen workers to another cupboard. He paused to tweak Bella’s braid, earning a shout and a handful of flour down his front.
Taliesin smothered a smile, leaning against the wall as Lucas made his way out without further mishap.
“Bella’s a doll.” Lucas gestured for him to start walking again. “If you ever miss dinner, you can always come raid the kitchens. She’ll probably find you adorable.”
“What?” Taliesin asked, fumbling as he nearly dropped an apple. “I’m not adorable.”
“Of course, you are.” Lucas laughed, snatching the apple from him and taking a bite. “I haven’t met anyone yet who hasn’t been charmed by you.”
“Oh,” Taliesin muttered, carefully rearranging his load. That just meant Lucas hadn’t met Mikhail, and there Taliesin was, thinking of the gardener again.
“Spill it,” Lucas ordered around a mouthful of apple. “No moping on my watch.”
“I’m not moping,” Taliesin objected, making a face as they made it back to the area of the palace Taliesin knew. “Why are you making me carry everything?”
“To build your strength. Why are you moping?” Lucas countered, ruffling his hair and making the silverware in his pocket jangle. “Was someone mean to you?”
“What? No!” Taliesin protested quickly. Mikhail hadn’t been mean to him. He’d been nice, even if it was just humoring a bratty prince. And he obviously knew Taliesin was a prince, too, since he knew Caspian and had seen Caspian with Taliesin enough times to make that connection.
“You wouldn’t lie to me, would you Tal?” Lucas asked sweetly, and Taliesin rolled his eyes. “Here, come in here.” Lucas turned abruptly, opening one of the doors lining the corridor.
Taliesin followed slowly, a little confused at the abrupt change in direction. The doorway led to a well-appointed, empty office. A half-dozen pennants and tapestries lined the walls. A large window let in the fading afternoon sunlight and looked out at the practice yards below. A large table took up the center of the room, a ring of chairs circling it.
“This is Richard’s war room,” Lucas declared, sitting down in the closest chair heavily. “He won’t care if we hang out here for a bit. Come on, share your loot and your troubles, Tal.”
“I don’t have troubles,” Taliesin stubbornly maintained, setting food down on the table. Lucas just stared at him steadily, obviously not convinced. Taliesin made a face at him and took a bite of an apple.
“Tell me. I might be able to help,” Lucas wheedled, drawing the silverware out of his breast pocket. He slid a fork towards Taliesin before digging into a corner of the pie.
“You don’t know him,” Taliesin said dismissively, then took another bite of apple before he could say anything more. Lucas perked up, grinning widely and Taliesin decided that it hadn’t been prudent to say anything at all.
“Then it’s not someone of the nobility,” Lucas decided confidently. “Tal, did you lie to me? Do you have a crush?”
“No,” Taliesin shook his head vehemently. “I don’t. He doesn’t even like me, so it wouldn’t matter if I did.”
“That’s not how it works,” Lucas objected. “You can like someone without them liking you back. I remember Richard had an awful bout of puppy love for Lady Genevieve, but she wouldn’t give him the time of day. I think it turned out she had an eye on Nicholas, though that never turned into anything for her because Nicholas is enamored of his sword.”
Taliesin blinked, running that through his head. “Did Richard stop liking her?”
“Oh, now he’s enamored of his sword too,” Lucas said, shaking his head. “It’s quite tragic.”
Taliesin sighed, frowning slightly as he helped himself to some of the pie. Maybe he should take up sword work. A sword would probably like him better than Mikhail did.
“Stop moping,” Lucas chided. “I said I’d help. Who is it?”
Taliesin made a face, shaking his head. “I’m not saying. You’d just pester him, and then he’d like me even less.”
“That’s… probably not true.” Lucas kicked his foot lightly, grinning. “Though I have problems believing anyone could not like you, Tal. Should I ask Caspian? He knows who it is, right?”
“Don’t ask Caspian!” Taliesin ordered quickly, his eyes widening. Caspian would think he was right, then, and worse, he might tell Lucas his take on the situation.
“Ah-hah,” Lucas declared triumphantly, around a mouthful of food. “So Caspian knows.”
“Caspian knows,” Taliesin confirmed, slumping in his seat. Caspian knew and Taliesin didn’t know whether or not he approved. Only it didn’t matter, because Mikhail didn’t like him and Taliesin wasn’t going to do anything about it. “If you ask him, I’ll tell mother about Lady Isabelle.”
“Oh, that’s evil.” Lucas grinned, leaning back in his chair and uncorking the bottle of wine. “But ineffective, because she already knows.”
“I’ll tell her you want a fall wedding?” Taliesin tried again, and Lucas laughed loudly, taking a swig of wine.
“I don’t know if Isabelle’s on board with that,” Lucas informed him loftily. “But don’t worry, I won’t ask if you really don’t want me to.”
“Please,” Taliesin said solemnly. “Ulgh, I should go get ready.”
“Probably,” Lucas agreed, waving a hand at him indulgently. “Scrub behind your ears, and don’t worry too much about it, Tal.”
“Yes, mom,” Taliesin muttered, but he smiled anyway.
“Take the jar. It’s the tea I promised you,” Lucas ordered, taking another swig of wine from the bottle. “And don’t be late, mother might explode.”
“I’ll be on time,” Taliesin promised, picking up the jar. Lucas grinned, standing up and beginning to clear up their mess as Taliesin let himself out of the room. It was a bit of a walk to get back to his rooms; the royal offices were in a different wing than the royal bedrooms.
Taliesin put thoughts of Mikhail and the entire mess out of his head as best he could. He was going to focus on getting through the ball tonight; then he could worry about Mikhail and Caspian and what to do with his unrequited crush on the gardener.
