Devan let go of Tan and headed for the kitchen. Too curious to let this be, Tan followed him, fetching up on a barstool in the corner of a rather nice kitchen, really. Definitely larger than average, but that made sense because this had to feed an inn’s worth of people.

Devan shucked jacket, rolled up his sleeves, and went to the sink first to wash his hands.

“What are you making?”

“Figured I’d make Shepherd’s pie for dinner. It takes too long to make that for lunch, and we’re nearing noon, so something fast and easy for this meal. A rice-and-veggies dish, I think.”

“I don’t know what Shepherd’s pie is.”

“It’s a casserole dish. Meat, vegetables, and potatoes all layered on top of each other and baked. Quite filling and it’s good for crowds of people.” Devan shot him an appraising look. “Do you normally eat just your homeland’s cuisine?”

“Eh, I eat whatever looks tasty. I’m not picky. It’s just this dish in particular I’ve not heard of.”

“Ah. Well, it is regional. I grew up with it. It’s more of a northern dish.”

“I see.” Tan was tired, true, but he didn’t feel comfortable just sitting there either. He offered, “I can wash the rice?”

Devan blinked up at him. “You can cook?”

“Sure. Well, nothing fancy, but home stuff. Y’know. How much do you need?”

“Do twelve cups.”

Amenable to this, Tan also went to the sink to wash hands first before doing a quick hunt in the kitchen for the rice. Ah, perfect, there it was. He scooped out twelve cups as directed into a pot before taking it back to the sink to wash.

Devan stood next to him at the counter, chopping vegetables. In an amiable tone, he said, “I suppose this shouldn’t have surprised me. Cooking is a lot like potion brewing, or so I’m told.”

“That’s exactly what my master said right before he dumped all the cooking responsibilities on me and my siblings. Said it was good practice. Bastard was lazy, but I didn’t figure that out until much later.”

“Ha, I can see that. Wait, you have siblings?”

“Two. Brother and sister.”

In a knowing way, Devan drawled, “You’re the youngest.”

Tan shot him a smirk. “You only say that because I’m spoiled rotten.”

“And completely unapologetic about it.”

“You, on the other hand, are the oldest. Those big brother vibes you give off are obvious.”

“Ha, well, not quite. I’m an only child. I was the oldest of the cousins, though, and until I was twelve I was more or less the one in charge of making sure they didn’t kill each other.”

Tan’s mental thoughts screeched to a halt. “Wait. Wait, that’s not what your bio says. Everyone always says you’re from a large family.”

“Oh, that official story the princess had the PR department write up? All lies.”

Tan’s hand stopped swishing the rice around. He felt like all gears in his brain had ground to a complete halt. Say what, now?! Tan didn’t even feel betrayed by the lie, he was instead intrigued why there was a need to lie in the first place. “Why the hell do you have an official background written up about you?”

“Because she found the truth entirely inconvenient.”

“That’s a given but why?”

“You’re dying of curiosity now, aren’t you?”

“Do you not see me vibrating in place?”

“Finish washing the rice,” Devan said. Something about his expression looked both cynical and sad, even though his lips curled up at the ends. “Do that and I’ll tell you as we work.”

Now, this he had to hear. Just what was it about Devan’s background that was so distasteful to that snobbish princess?

Tan went right back to washing, but his eyes and full attention were on Devan. He was a bit giddy that Devan was telling him all of this information outright. Devan surely was not supposed to. Was it wrong to be gleeful to hear the truth straight from the horse’s mouth, or to take it as a sign Devan was even further opening up to him?

“Truth is, I have no idea who my birth parents are. The story I was told was that a young woman came in one night, wanting passage off continent, and she was using her infant son—me, in other words—as fare money. She was in the sketchy side of town but was apparently too naïve to realize it was not the right side of town for slavery, as she was frustrated by the lack of interest. The man who raised me, whom I consider my father, was horrified. I was days old at best. He took her aside, bartered the price so she sold me to him, and she went away content. He now had a child in hand with no idea of my lineage or even my name. Even then, though, I was a large child. He named me Devante.”

“Fighter of wrongs,” Tan murmured in growing understanding. “He thought just because of your size, you’d end up this way?”

“Well, children are named like that to inspire them in life, right? I think that was his true goal. At any rate, he took me home with him and raised me.” Devan paused to take the rice from him and carry it to the stove. “Now, this is where my background gets truly objectionable.”

Tan stayed right at his side, all ears. “I cannot fathom how but do continue.”

“My new father was a legal businessman on the surface but a smuggler by trade. Quite good at it, too. He never married—I was his only child—so he taught me everything he knew as I grew up. It’s why I’m fluent in several languages and know the customs of different countries so well. I was in and out of those countries as a child. I learned it all firsthand.”

Tan could not have been more delighted. He beamed from ear to ear. “A smuggler’s son. Ha! The First Knight of the Realm is a smuggler’s son. Oh, that bratty princess must have hated it when she learned this. I’m cackling with delight. But why go into knighthood?”

“Hmm, well, despite being raised in that environment, it never completely sat well with me. My father died when I was twelve, and my uncle—who never really liked me—took me aside and asked if I intended to carry on the business or if I wanted out. He offered to pay for any apprenticeship of my choosing, including military school. In retrospect, the old man knew what he was about. I was entranced by knights at the time. Like all boys, I glorified them and wanted to be one when I grew up. When he said military school, I knew that was my best chance to become a knight so I snapped it up.”

Devan didn’t seem at all upset about this, so he’d come to terms with losing his father. Tan still felt the need to cheer him up, though, just because he was alone. No siblings or parents was a sad thing, to his mind.

In that vein, he volunteered himself to be with Devan. That would solve the problem beautifully.

Devan paused, staring straight ahead with a rueful expression. “If I had known then what I know now, I would have stayed a smuggler. That’s honest work, at least.”

Tan leaned in against his side, batting his dark eyes in adoration. “If you’d like a career change, you can always be my black knight. I pay well. Full benefits, too.”

“Don’t hold your breath. I actually do take my vows seriously. At any rate, that’s why she hates my backstory. If people had known it before I rose through the ranks, I might have ended up with my career cut short.” Devan shrugged, in the process shrugging Tan off, and moved to dump ingredients into the pot with the rice to cook. “While we’re sharing stories, how did you end up being a black sorcerer? With your skillset, you could have easily stayed on the true and narrow and made a good living.”

“Oh, that? You can thank your princess for that, too.” Tan said it lightly but he meant every word of it. It was partially the princess’s fault he was a black sorcerer.

Devan threw him a look askance even as he reached for the spices above the stove. “How so?”

“Well, I’d just passed the Tests and gained my license when I was sat down in the Registrar’s office and told point blank that I had two choices. I could either be freelance—in other words, no backing from any government agency, which would have made finding work very, very hard. Or I could sign on under the kingdom’s terms of magical employment. Of course I asked what the terms were, so they gave me the contract to look over. I frankly wasn’t much better off under their terms. It was atrocious. Low pay, most of it going to the government, ridiculous demands so that I had to be on-call day and night. It was practically slavery. I told him in no uncertain terms I wasn’t signing that. He said sign it or sign the paper saying I was freelance, meaning I couldn’t officially work in the country. I told him to go to hell.”

Devan put both hands on the counter’s edge and leaned, his head hanging between his arms. “Are you telling me that every black sorcerer in this kingdom was forced into it because the princess’s rules governing magic users are that insane?”

“Well, I don’t know about all of us, per se, but the majority of us. Yes. You should hear the bitching when we get together for poker nights.”

“If I wasn’t oath-bound to protect her, I swear I’d have murdered that selfish bitch by now.”

Now that was music to Tan’s ears. Especially the way Devan growled it in that menacing pitch. Oooh, sexy. Now, while he absolutely agreed with this sentiment, he did have to question why. “I must ask, what is it like working for her?”

“Hell,” Devan answered flatly. “Take this situation, for instance. This isn’t even unique. She does stupid, ruthless things like this all the time. I spend more time undoing her mistakes and safeguarding people from her than I do actually protecting her.”

“That’s…insane. Devan, seriously—look, I even have my serious face on—that’s insane. You realize this, right? I knew she was bad, I’d heard enough rumors and this situation was eye opening in a lot of ways, but you’re telling me this is normal? Why are you still serving her?”

“I’m not.” Devan sighed, head still hanging. “I’m serving Goodwine by protecting the country from her.”

Oh. Now that made entirely too much sense. Tan could see in a second how true that was. Devan was the front line between princess and citizens, and the sacrifices he had to make to protect them from their own ruler was quite steep. Tan didn’t like it. He just didn’t like seeing a good man being slowly broken down because of a bad ruler.

“I can assassinate her for you. It’ll be a token of my affection.”

Devan turned his head, just a touch, to eye him sideways. “I can’t know that because then I’m obligated to stop you.”

“Got it. I’ll work around you.”

“What about your siblings? They’re magical as well?”

“Oh, both of them are. Magic runs strong in my family. They also made the decision to be black sorcerers for the same reason. What else could we do? We’re damn good at it, though. All of those pesky rules of the kingdom just get in the way anyway.”

“I unfortunately know that all too well. Dice some garlic for me?”

“Sure, sure.”

“So with all of that said, I have to wonder, how much of your reputation is earned and how much exaggerated. I fully expected you to try and kill me on sight, but you didn’t. Quite the opposite.”

Tan understood why he asked. It was a fair question, really, and he knew the source of it. “You wonder because of all the knights I’ve killed over the years.”

“Well, yes.”

Tan paused in dicing, hoping he wasn’t about to stab himself in the foot. “When I started building Grimslock, I was a very salty eighteen-year-old with a grievance against your princess. She’d forced my hand in ways I didn’t appreciate and I wasn’t shy about saying so. I’d done a few jobs that were both lucrative and very illegal, so I was labeled a black sorcerer by default. A contingent of knights and two court mages were dispatched to get rid of me. I took exception that. They were barely up my driveway before I killed the lot of them with one spell.”

Devan went very, very still, watching him carefully. “Just one?”

“Poison spells work wonders on those who aren’t expecting it.” Tan shrugged, not at all apologetic about that. Anyone who tried to kill him didn’t deserve mercy. “After that, if a knight approached my castle, I knew they were there to kill me. I dealt with them with ruthless efficiency.”

“Ah. Well, I can’t blame you there. You’re probably right. Serenity’s been trying to wipe out the black sorcerers since she started taking over the kingdom’s duties.”

“Yes, I’m well aware, trust me.”

“You didn’t kill me on sight, though?” Devan’s tone tiled up curiously.

Well of course he hadn’t. Devan was always safe from Tan. He didn’t feel like getting into that just then and responded simply, “You were obviously not there to kill me. You came dressed in your own clothes, alone. I decided to hear you out first and not assume the worst.”

“I’m glad of it.”

They fell back to cooking, as they had people to feed lunch soon, the conversation more casual by default. As Tan worked alongside Devan, he couldn’t help but ponder it all a bit more. A smuggler’s son, eh? Hearing that actually gave Tan some hope. Devan was not the pure white he’d been colored to be but some interesting shades of grey. Tan could totally work with grey. A little more convincing, make a few of the right promises, and he might be able to steal Devan from the princess’s side without too much effort. Devan would be better off anyway. Tan was much more fun and not nearly as stressful.

Being raised a smuggler certainly explained why Devan was so willing to work with unsavory characters (like himself) to get the job done. He likely didn’t even question Tan’s methods. Was it wrong that Devan was even more appealing with that bad-boy background? It just made Tan even more determined to seduce him.

Seduction plans started tonight, too. After eating another meal, and maybe an afternoon nap, Tan would be restored enough to portal them back to his castle. Tan had this all laid out in his head. If he and Devan were lovers, the man would be much more willing to abandon the absolutely shitty job he had and stay with Tan instead. He’d do just as much good with Tan, he could still protect the kingdom, and he wouldn’t have to deal with Serenity day in and day out. It was the perfect solution for all problems.

Him having this sexy man as his lover, well, that was just a bonus. Really, Tan was thinking of Devan.

Really.