Sunlight streamed through the branches of the mature apricot tree. Bran leaned against the knotted trunk as the yellow rays dappled his pale skin. Rowan sat a few feet off, charcoal and sketchpad in his hands.

“I still can’t believe I’m doing this,” he muttered.

“You brought your tools out here. What did you expect?”

“Only because you kept cajoling me to bring them! I assumed you’d have me sketch nature. It is beautiful out here.”

A teasing smile spread across the brunette's face. “Why would I have you sketch an old tree, when I could finally have a portrait of myself?”

Rowan quirked an eyebrow at him. “Your parents don’t already have portraits of you in their manor back home?”

“Oh, well… I’m staying at Isabella’s, aren’t I? I don’t have one there to look at.”

Rowan humpfed at the strange request, but didn’t push the subject any further, mainly because Bran changed it so quickly.

“Alright, I’ve been posing for an hour. I think I deserve to see the finished product.”

Rowan blushed. “But it’s embarrassing!” he protested. “What if you don’t like it?”

“Then I’ll lie,” Bran replied easily. The blonde only stuck out his tongue as a response. Reluctantly, he passed over his sketch pad.

Bran’s breath caught. He ran his long, slender fingers over the strokes reverently. He looked up at him, eyes wide

“This is how you see me?”

The prince nodded, looking even more embarrassed.

The portrait was amazingly lifelike. His arms were crossed, but there was a playfulness to his expression, as if he had a teasing word on his tongue. His glossy black hair was braided over his ears in its usual style, but dark strands tickled the sides of his face.

What stood out the most was how happy he looked. He realized, with a jolt, that’s how he felt around Rowan. Happy.

“It almost looks like you’ve given me a halo,” he breathed.

“You are a ray of sunshine,” Rowan retorted with a nervous smile. “How do you like it?”

“It’s… it’s exquisite,” he replied honestly. “It almost feels wrong to take it.”

Rowan shook his head, a look of relief painting his face. “No, it’s all yours. It is you after all.”

Bran scratched the back of his neck. “Still, first the necklace now this. I’m not quite sure how to repay you.”

The blonde placed a hand on his chin before perking up at an idea. “I’d like for you to come to the castle and meet Matilda.”

“The castle?” Bran went white.

“Yeah, you know, that place I live. Maybe I could even introduce you to my father.”

“The king?” Bran somehow went whiter.

“Yes, my father is the king,” he giggled. “That’s why I’m the prince.”

“No need for cheek,” Bran tutted. “Matilda sounds lovely and I would be happy to meet her. I’m not going to lie, I’m a bit hesitant about meeting…. anyone else.”

“Alright, let’s go today then.”

“Right now?” Bran could only imagine how idiotic he sounded giving surprised, two-word answers.

“The old man is visiting some Duke or whatever and is out. It’s perfect timing.”

Bran hesitated, eyes darting around nervously. “I guess, if you think it’s a good idea.”

“I do! Plus, you still owe me one of those apricot dishes you promised. We can pick the fruit now.”

“I’m surprised you still remember that.”

“Like I could forget anything you’ve said. I think all of our conversations are burned in my brain. You know, because you’re such a good conversationalist,” he added hastily. Smooth.

They rode Rowan’s horse back to the castle. Bran held onto him tightly as they bounced through the woods.

“For the love of God, slow down!”

“Sorry sunshine, this is just part of riding with an expert.”  He sped up. He wasn’t taking the chance that Bran would loosen his grip if he relaxed his pace.

They arrived at the palace and saw Liam outside the main gate. Liam was always delighted to see Bran, but mostly because Isabella would sometimes tag along. Rowan had never seen Liam’s serious demeanor switch to excitement so readily.

“Did you happen to bring the Baroness with you today?” he asked.

“I’m afraid not,” Bran replied. Isabella said she had no interest in dating the guard, but she looked equally excited whenever she saw him.

Liam tried to hide his disappointment, “That’s alright.” He hesitated. “Out of curiosity, does she ever talk about me?”

Rowan was even more shocked at his expression. It was possible for Liam to be shy?

As a matter of fact, Liam had dominated most of the conversations Bran had had with her recently.

“Yes, she says you are quite handy at helping her make salves.”

His scarred face was flooded with relief. He sucked in a breath. “Oh thank God.”

Rowan, hoping to shake this potential third wheel, leaned forward. “I think she’s home alone right now. I’m sure she wouldn’t mind your company if you-”

Liam was already scampering away. “Thank you for the day off, your highness!”

Rowan couldn’t help but laugh. “He really is gone on that girl.”

“I can’t blame him. Isabella is one of the most wonderful people I know. I’m grateful to have her as a best friend.”

“You’ve never thought of her as something more?” The Prince desperately tried to sound nonchalant, but failed miserably. “You two have never been in a romantic relationship?”

Bran let out a hearty laugh. “No. Women aren’t really my style.”

Rowan’s face turned pink. “Good.” Bran raised his eyebrows at him, and the prince immediately backtracked. “I mean good as in, you know, anything is good. It’s good that you’re just friends. It’d be awkward with Liam and all if not. So that's why it's good,” he rambled.

Mercifully, Bran changed the subject. “Before meeting Matilda I’d like to use your kitchens. I could make the apricot tart you wanted first. I know how important she is to you and I’d like to make a good first impression.”

“I wouldn’t worry about impressions. I can’t imagine anyone has ever disliked you.”

Rowan dismissed the cooks as they entered the kitchen, thanking each of them individually. He turned to Bran and noticed he was in a state of shock.

“This is amazing! I’ve never cooked in anything like this before. You have six cast iron stoves! Ah! How is it possible to have these many spices?” He gave a gasp and held up a jar, “Nutmeg! I’ve always wanted to try that.”

“You’re welcome to use the kitchens anytime you’d like.”

“Really? You wouldn’t mind the extra company?”

“Yeah, I think I can handle it if your cooking is good”.

“Well, if there’s so much riding on this dish perhaps I should recruit some help.”

“Is that so?” Rowan winked. “If you’re in distress, I guess a dashing prince could come to your aid.”

“Can this dashing prince use a whisk?”

Rowan never had to cook for himself, but how hard could it really be?

Very hard, it turned out. A large part of that was due to the constant distractions he was facing. Bran hummed and swayed as he worked, as if he were listening to music only he could hear. Rowan was transfixed by how strong his hands looked as he was kneading the dough. He imagined Bran grabbing him that roughly. Picking him up in his arms and supporting him while being dipped back into a deep kiss….

“Rowan?”

He was snapped out of his vivid daydream. “What?”

“I asked if you wanted to try some of the batter before I put it in to bake.”

Rowan grabbed the mixing spoon and put it in his mouth. He noticed a blush on Bran’s face as his tongue curled around the base of it. Well, that’s a good sign.

They met Matilda out in the garden after everything had finished cooking. The three of them sat at a stained glass table drinking tea as they nibbled on their food.

“So this is the famous sunshine,” Matilda beamed. “I’ve heard so much about you.”

“All good I hope?”

“Of course,” she replied earnestly. “I’ve never seen Prince Rowan happier.”

Embarrassed, Rowan quickly tried to change the subject, “This tart is divine Bran. I think you’d actually rival the cook at the Carpenters.”

Bran coughed as if he had choked on something. “Is that so?”

Rowan had been pressured into returning to the Carpenter’s manor many more times. “The food is one of the only reasons I go back there.”

Matilda continued as if Rowan had never interrupted. “And you’re the one that inspired him to change the book law?”

“I don’t know if inspired is the right word,” Bran chuckled.

“And he’s modest too! No wonder you like him,” Matilda winked.

“Ok, that’s enough Matilda. Bran, you’ll have to excuse us. I forgot that Matilda and I have very important royalty meetings to attend alone; well, together but alone.”

Bran looked confusedly between the two of them and shrugged. “Sure. I’m free Thursday evening if you’d like to meet then.”

“I look forward to it! I’ll have one of my guards give you a ride back to the Barclay manor.”

The halfling gave a deep bow, and made his way to the main gate.

After Bran left, Rowan pulled Matilda aside. “What the hell were you doing back there?” he hissed.

“I don’t understand why you’re so upset, Rowan, or why you practically kicked that poor boy out the door.”

“I’m upset because he doesn’t know yet!”

“Doesn’t know what? Your feelings? Oh Rowan, the love is practically wafting off of you," she said, rolling her eyes. 

“Well, I haven’t done anything, or said anything yet.”

“But it is him, right? That you plan on proposing to at the end of the summer?”

No one outside the castle was supposed to know about his deal with King Aldis. The king had mandated that Rowan announce an engagement at the end of the summer, which was drawing closer and closer.

Rowan’s eyes went soft. “If he would have me, nothing in this world would make me happier.”