“You ready for this, Princeling?” Remi asked as they approached the baron's castle.
“Why? Do you have some kind of escape plan, in case I’m not?”
Remi grinned. “You know your mother scares me.”
“You wound me,” Damien said in mock distress. “I thought friends were supposed to be willing to face any dangers for each other.”
“No, no. A friend should ensure that their friend doesn’t become friendless.” Remi tilted his head. “Fuck, that was pure poetry, wasn’t it?”
Damien chuckled. “I’ll get you one of those fancy notebooks for your birthday.”
“Hey, speaking of fancy, the viceroy met your future spouse yesterday, didn’t he? What did he make of him?”
“Honestly? He seemed to like him a bit too much. He even said he wanted to take him on as an apprentice.”
Remi looked at him, astonished. “That’s quite an endorsement.” His expression turned into a smirk. “Are you afraid that your husband will fall for a fellow mage?”
“Don’t be ridiculous,” Damien said, frowning. When Remi gave him a doubtful look, he continued, “This is a political marriage, and I don’t even know him yet. It’s too early for this jealousy talk.”
Remi grinned. “Whatever you say.”
After a moment of silence, Damien asked, “Is my hair okay?”
“It looks politically fine, I think,” Remi said with another smirk.
Damien sighed, but he had to smile at his own nervousness, too. He didn’t expect an actual relationship with the mage, even though Mother seemed to assume they were going to be intimate (otherwise, why would she have told him to change his lifestyle now?). Sure, it usually didn’t take long for Damien to decide to sleep with an attractive man, but how likely was it that his future husband was the same? Or that he was interested in men that way at all?
“You can go back, Remi,” he said. “I’ll be safe beyond these gates, and on my way back, a powerful mage will accompany me, so there’s nothing to worry about.”
Remi didn’t look happy about leaving Damien behind, but he knew better than to defy the queen’s orders.
“If you die, I’ll piss on your grave,” he said.
“Charming.”
After leaving Carrot in a groom’s care, he walked up to the castle’s large front door and announced himself, showing his medallion as proof of identity in case the guards didn’t recognize his face. He was let inside and, almost immediately, Lord Killian came to greet him, accompanied by two of his children. Damien recognized Elora, but not the boy, though he looked too young to be the mage, so he had to be Oliver, the baron’s youngest child.
The baron introduced himself and his children, confirming what Damien had just thought.
“And where is my betrothed?” Damien asked, glancing behind Lord Killian. “I hope everything is all right?”
The baron went red. “My apologies, Your Highness. I sent a servant to summon him, but he wasn’t in his chambers. I should have ordered him not to leave the castle.”
“Not at all. You weren’t informed when exactly to expect me and anyone would get bored just sitting and waiting.”
“Arion should be on the little hill east of the castle, Your Highness,” Lady Elora said. “He likes to go there to clear his head.”
Damien smiled. “I feel like taking a walk, anyway. Please do not trouble yourselves over me. I’ll come back with Lord Arion and we’ll leave once he’s said his goodbyes.”
The little hill wasn’t far from the castle. He reached it fast and his nerves quickly caught up with him.
Well, there are lots of trees and bushes to hide in, so maybe I could…
He stripped naked and carefully placed his clothes and sword under a thick bush, then shifted into his wolf form. Like this, he could take a peek at his soon-to-be husband and maybe learn a bit about him before formally introducing himself. He just hoped the young mage wouldn’t try to kill him with his magic. People had different reactions to wolves, especially ones so large.
It didn’t take him long to find a lone human sitting beneath a tree. A gorgeous lone human sitting beneath a tree. Mother had been right about that, at least. He should have known, though, since Arion’s siblings were very good-looking and his father wasn’t ugly either. Arion had the same wavy dark brown hair as his father and siblings, and lovely freckles. Lord Killian had no freckles, so those must have been inherited from Lady Sabine. Arion’s eyes were unlike his father's or his siblings'—they were silvery gray rather than blue.
And damn, he had lips that just begged to be kissed.
Damien walked out from among the trees slowly, trying to appear non-threatening. Arion jumped a little, startled. He’d been staring off into the distance and hadn’t noticed Damien despite him having been so close. His beautiful eyes widened slightly when they locked with Damien’s, but he didn’t look scared, just surprised.
“Wow, aren’t you a beauty,” he said, his voice warm. “I wish I could offer you some food, but I haven’t brought any. And I don’t eat meat, anyway.”
He stood up carefully, and Damien could tell he was a few inches shorter than Damien’s human form. Damien liked that.
Wait, did I really just think that?
“You could eat me, I suppose,” Arion said. “I’m not sure I would mind. At least then it wouldn’t really be my fault that I made life harder for my brother and sister. It’s not like I came here with the intention to die, after all.”
What the—
Damien let out a small, involuntary whine.
“Oh, are you hurt?” Arion took a few slow steps toward him. “I have healing magic. I won’t hurt you, so will you let me take a look?” He frowned. “This is silly, isn’t it? Talking to a wolf.”
He put out his hand for Damien to sniff, so Damien sniffed, taking in and memorizing his future husband’s scent. Arion didn’t really think it would be okay to die, did he? Damien couldn’t exactly talk him out of anything in this form.
He licked Arion’s hand, causing him to chuckle, and he wagged his tail to add to the cuddly persona he was going for.
“Aww, are you someone’s pet wolf? I don’t imagine wolves normally act like this toward strangers.” His brow creased. “I don’t see a pack with you. I hope you’re not out here all alone. Wolves aren’t happy when they’re alone, are they? And I don’t think one would be happier with a human than with other wolves.”
Damn, this is the mage who kills dozens of people with a single spell?
Arion stroked Damien’s side tentatively. “So soft. Now be a good—” He looked at Damien’s underbelly. Damien was glad he couldn’t blush. “Be a good boy and stand still while I check you for injuries.”
Maybe he was suicidal. Who acted like this when faced with a huge wolf? He even lifted Damien’s paws one by one to check the pads. “Everything seems fine. And you are the biggest and prettiest wolf I have ever seen,” he said.
Damien could listen to this kind of talk all day.
“But you shouldn’t trust humans so easily,” Arion continued. “You could get killed for your beautiful black coat. And people can be cruel for no reason, too.”
Damien resisted the urge to nod in agreement. Sometimes it was hard to act wolfy enough in front of people.
Arion was crouching in front of him, petting his neck. Damien rubbed his head against Arion’s chest and neck, and when he started rubbing against his face and licked his cheek, Arion giggled, the sound doing weird things to Damien.
“Hey, if you’re trying to mark me, then I’m sorry, but apparently I’m already taken.”
Damien felt a shudder go through Arion. He pulled away from him and looked at his face, head tilted.
“Yeah,” Arion said as if Damien had asked him a question. “My father is pretty much selling me to the crown.” Damien hoped Arion didn’t notice his eyes unnaturally narrowing. He barely knew Arion’s father, but he already hated the man. “I don’t know what he’s getting out of it, but it must be a lot if he’s willing to part with such a powerful weapon. Because that’s what I am to my father—a weapon. But there’s no point whining about it, is there? I just came here to clear my head so my brother and sister don’t notice how scared I am when the prince arrives. And so the prince doesn’t notice either. It’s not like any of this is his fault. He was probably as surprised as I was.”
A faint blush spread on Arion’s cheeks. “Gods, what am I doing, talking to a wolf like this?” He stroked Damien’s neck for a moment, then stood up. “I should probably go. I don’t know when the prince will come, and my father will be angry if I’m not present then. The prince likely won’t be happy either. But will you be okay? How do I know if nothing bad will happen to you?”
Damien barked what he hoped sounded like a bark of confidence.
“You really act like you understand words.” Arion smiled, scratched him between his ears, then turned to go. “Stay out of trouble, friend.”
Damien watched him go for a while, then he also went back to where he’d left his things. Fortunately, no one had stolen anything. He wouldn’t have known what to do if he’d found himself stranded here without clothes.
Now he had to meet his betrothed in his human form and hope the meeting would be at least half as friendly. He really wanted to make a good impression. As a wolf, he’d been unable to keep himself from rubbing against Arion and licking him. Marking him, as Arion had jokingly said. Hopefully, his human self would manage to act normal.
No sniffing, Damien.
He had no idea where the weird behavior had even
come from. Remi was going to laugh.
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