Bran had mixed feelings as he walked around the shops.
Was Rowan complacent with how the kingdom was run? Or was he actually that oblivious to his peoples suffering? He had changed the book buying law after their first meeting. Maybe he was different from all the members of the royal family. He certainly seemed kinder than most of the nobles he’d met.
Even though Bran had been hesitant to prolong their day together, the promise of a hearty, expensive meal was enough to grant Rowan a second chance... for now.
Bran gestured at the wooden street market stalls as they walked through the main road. Their tented tops sheltered hoards of people, all looking for a well-priced deal.
“Anabel sells the best woven goods and Geoffrey makes the nicest wooden items.” Bran gestured at a large sparkling display. “And this is where the finest jewelry at the market is sold.”
Rowan’s face lit up at the glittering display. His warm, radiant smile was almost blinding. “These are beautiful,” he said, clapping his hands together.
He lives in a literal castle, Bran thought to himself. How is he so excited about street vendor jewelry?
Rowan's manicured hands caressed the rainbow assortment of jewels, until he reached a tear-drop sapphire connected to a braided, gold chain. He held it next to Bran’s face. “Oh, this one is perfect! Would you mind if we waited in line to purchase it?”
“Sure,” Bran shrugged. Must be nice having the funds to impulsively buy jewelry. “Let’s get in line.”
The two men bustled over to stand behind a fae woman who excitedly held a canary yellow ring in her hands.
“That’s awfully pretty!” Rowan said, pointing to it.
The woman seemed taken aback for a moment, unsure if the words had been directed at her. “Uh, thanks,” she said after a moment of hesitation.
Rowan was completely oblivious to her surprise. “Looks a bit small for you. Are you giving it to someone?”
“Yeah.” Her expression softened. “The most beautiful woman I’ve ever met. I wish I could afford something more expensive, but I think she’ll like this.”
“Any special occasion?”
Bran stared between the two of them. There was no way Rowan had met this woman before. Why were they talking like old friends? Did he always make a habit of speaking to strangers so warmly?
The fae woman blushed. “It’s our one year anniversary. It’s been the best year of my life. I want her to know that.” She held up the ring again. “Hopefully, this will help.”
Rowan beamed at her. “That’s so romantic!” He fiddled with a velvet pouch that was attached to his belt. He untied it and pulled out several silver coins, setting them in her palm. “She’s a lucky woman; I can tell you love her a lot. Here, this should cover whatever you’d like to get her.”
Bran could feel his eyes bulge from his skull. Holy shit. Did it always carry that much money with him? Did he also whip it out so casually in public? He thanked god they were in a nicer part of town.
The woman gaped at him, unsure of what to say. “I-- I can’t possibly,” she stuttered.
Her words were cut off as a large, bald man bumped into her, skipping her in line.
Rowan frowned at him. “Excuse me, but no cutsies.”
Cutsies?
“Wut?” the huge man said dumbly, turning to face him.
“We were all in line first.”
“So?” he shrugged.
“So, you can’t just cut to the front,” Rowan stated matter-of-factly.
“Says who?”
“Me.”
“And you are?” the man asked.
Bran cringed. He loved seeing a jerk put in their place, but not when the jerk was that enormous. Just tell him you're the prince and we can avoid this confrontation, he begged internally.
“Uh,” Rowan started, “I’m just a concerned citizen.”
No!
“I don’t know where you’re from, buddy,” the man growled and took a step closer, “but around here we do what we want to these dirty blooded freaks. You can cut in front of her too.”
The fae woman, who had been so brightly animated while talking about her partner, stared silently at the ground.
Bran stepped forward, palms spread wide in a placating manner. “Why don’t we just calm down for a moment--” A rough hand pushed against his sternum. Bran could feel himself lose balance and fell to the ground. He supposed it was too late to diffuse the situation.
He rubbed his sore buttocks and looked up just in time to see sweet Rowan cock his arm back and punch the man in the face.
Bran and Rowan looked at each other without speaking, both in disbelief at the turn of events.
“My nose! You broke my nose, you asshole!” the man howled as blood streaked down his ugly face. “Officers!”
Two men dressed in heavy armor seemed to appear from the ether, rapidly making their way towards them.
“Okay,” Bran whispered. “Now would be the perfect time to reveal your identity.”
Rowan looked at him for a moment before grabbing his hand and pulling him off the ground. “Run!” he yelled, dragging Bran behind him.
“Just tell them you’re the prince!” Bran hissed as they wove through the street, narrowly missing a cart stocked with vegetables. “You can end this right now!”
Rather than reply, Rowan continued to run. Bran could feel his lungs burning with exertion as the officers continued pursuing them. Eventually, they spotted a dark, musty alleyway and ducked off the main road.
“What are you doing?” Bran breathed. “We don’t need to hide, just go talk to them.”
Rowan shook his head. “I can’t! I won’t be allowed to leave the palace for a month if my father finds out about this,” he whispered. “I’m supposed to be at lunch with the Carpenters still. My father will have my head if officers drag me in!”
“Hey, we all have problems. Do you think I can afford to be arrested again?” Bran shot back.
“Again?!?!”
“Shhhhh!” Bran hissed, but it was too late. They’d caught someone’s attention.
“I heard them down this way!” an officer called out.
“That’s another story for another time,” Bran insisted. “Now, shut up and play along.”
“Play along with wha--” Rowan’s words were cut off when Bran roughly grabbed his shirt and pushed him against the brick wall of the alleyway. They stared at each other for a brief moment before Bran crashed their lips together.
A loud shuffling of footsteps passed by. “I swear I heard them this way!” one of the guards assured his friends.
Another one tutted. “Whatever. The fight’s been broken up. Let’s just get back to work.”
Bran heard the guards move on, but he was reluctant to let go of the man in front of him. I’m just being cautious, he told himself, just in case some of the officers are lingering.
Soft hands gently wrapped around him, pulling him forward. Rowan had grabbed his waist to pull him into a tighter embrace. A warm tingle spread over his skin at the extra contact. Instinctively, Bran pressed his thigh between Rowan’s legs and leaned in further, grinding their hips roughly against one another.
He was high on adrenaline and drunk Rowan’s smooth, warm skin. Rowan let out a gentle whimper as Bran swiped his tongue against his full, lower lip then gently sucked on it.
Suddenly, it wasn’t just his lungs that were burning. He could feel his body heating from its core at Rowan’s earnest gasps and sighs. One of his hands crept into the prince’s blonde mop of curls and he gently tugged at his hair.
“Get a room!” a woman called out at them.
Rowan’s breath caught and he pulled his head back. His face was red and he seemed completely out of breath. They stared at each other without speaking.
“Uh, qu-quick thinking,” he said shakily.
Bran cleared his throat, willing his own face to cool. “Yeah. Sorry, it just seemed like the best idea to hide in plain sight.”
“Don’t apologize!” Rowan responded quickly. “It got them off our tails. It’s fine. Totally fine.”
An awkward silence ensued and Bran kicked his boot against the ground. Neither man knew where to look. “Since I just stopped us from getting arrested, I think I have definitely earned that free meal by now.”
Rowan’s smile was nervous and his cheeks were still pink. Probably from the running we did, Bran told himself.
“Sure,” he agreed. “Let’s go eat.”
-
Hours filled with drinking, eating, and laughing effortlessly passed.
“Apricots? Really?” Rowan smiled.
“They are delicious! If you don’t like them, it's because you either have bad taste or you haven’t had them cooked properly.”
“Maybe you can teach me to bake with them sometime?”
“Sure,” Bran shrugged, taking a sip of his wine. “It’d be a good learning experience. Maybe you could cook for that Madame Matilda you love so much.”
“She would love that!” Rowan answered excitedly.
He stretched and stared at the darkening sky. “I have to get back to Liam. I had a wonderful time today. I’d love to do something like this again- if you’re willing,” he added quickly.
Bran, and the bottle of wine he’d consumed, had come to the conclusion that there was no harm in garnering an innocent friendship with the prince. Bran was lonely, and it seemed that Rowan was too. What was the harm in keeping each other company?
“Yeah, I’d like that.”
Rowan stood up, then gave a surprised face. “Oh! I almost forgot something.” He dug around his pockets until he pulled out the sapphire necklace.
Bran nearly choked on his wine. “You stole the jewelry?”
“Not on purpose!” he insisted indignantly. “I promise I meant to pay for it. If we come back here, I’ll be sure to reimburse the shop owner with interest.” He held the jewel in his palm and leaned forward. “Here, take it.”
Bran arched an eyebrow. “Why?”
“Who did you think I was buying it for?” Rowan asked.
“I think you mean stealing it for.” He looked away for a moment and scratched his neck. “I don’t know, maybe your partner?” he ventured.
“No partner. I’m very single. I’ve been single for a while.”
Bran thought back to all the sultry rumors he’d heard about Rowan. Did his definition of single not include hook ups?
“It’s for you,” the blonde insisted. “It matches your eyes. Maybe you can think of me when you wear it.”
Bran’s stomach did a somersault. “Oh… thank you.”
“Mind if I help you put it on?”
Rather than reply, Bran turned around and lifted his dark hair from his neck.
Rowan stepped behind, fingers tickling his neck. He had leaned in close enough that Bran could fully appreciate his warm, citrusy cologne.
After a few moments of struggling, Rowan had finally locked the fishhook clasp around his nape. “There,” Rowan stated. He opened his mouth to speak, but his words died in his throat as Bran spun around.
“How do I look?” Bran asked.
“You’re absolutely perfect.”
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