Page 13 of Charmed

Prince Alden nodded in resignation. “I understand. I will inform them after I see to my new apprentice.” He gestured towards me, and while the guard gave me a curious look, he didn’t comment or question his prince.

“Understood, Your Highness. I shall wait here and escort you to the palace myself.”

Prince Alden seemed unenthused at the prospect, but he nodded reluctantly and motioned for me to follow him. The moment we were out of earshot he released a heavy sigh. “My personal guard’s favorite hobby seems to be stirring up a fuss whenever I manage to slip away, as if I’m not perfectly capable of taking care of myself with my powers.”

My shock finally faded enough for me to find the words that had been ringing in my head ever since the guard appeared. “You’re aprince?”

He’d gone from a nameless wizard, to just Alden, to my master, and now to aprince, all within the span of twenty-four hours. I frantically recalled every interaction we’d ever had. While I’d never been outright rude or done anything particularly embarrassing, I hadn’t exactly maintained the decorum his title warranted, a fact that made me fiercely regret every negative thought and feeling I’d ever had towards him.

He hesitated, as if debating whether he could get away with denying it, before his shoulders slumped. “I…suppose you could say that.”

“Yousuppose?” What kind of answer wasthat?

He sighed. “I mean…yes, I am a prince…I suppose.”

That answer was just as vague as his first until I considered a possible explanation: there were many types of princes—lesser royals that possessed enough royal blood to warrant the title while not being the direct members of the current reigning family. Perhaps Alden was one of those.

“What’s your relationship to the current king and queen?” I asked tentatively.

He didn’t immediately respond, seeming to debate how to answer before sighing in defeat. “I’m their son.”

Well, there wentthattheory. The man was as royal as one could be. Just perfect.

“Why didn’t you tell me you were the prince?”

He slowed on the path twisting away from the imperial grounds, looking weary. “Because it’s a title I did nothing to earn. I place very little value in a role I was merely born to, whereas my identity as a wizard is one I’ve worked hard for, making it far more valuable to me.”

I frowned. “Is that why you took so long to offer your name?”

He bit his lip, which I took as ayes. “My apologies, I know my lack of introduction was unbearably rude. I just…wanted to enjoy not beingPrinceAlden for as long as I could. I was pleasantly surprised when, upon learning my name, you didn’t connect me with the royal family.”

The pieces of his puzzling reaction after finally sharing his identity fell into place, and then I was embarrassed by the implications of my own response. “It’s not as if I was uninformed that the prince of the reigning monarchy was named Alden.” My basic education had at least included that much. “I just didn’t…”

I swallowed the admission I hadn’t had any reason to remember. Our village resided on the very edge of the kingdom of Rosileya, too far for anyone of importance to ever travel, much less the royal family. Our vast distance from the capital made its affairs as well as the intricate matters of the kingdom and high society of little concern to us.

His eyebrows rose as he filled in the words I hadn’t dared speak out loud. “You were aware…but simply didn’t care.”

My cheeks heated. “I—” But my fumbled attempts to explain faltered at his expression—rather than offense, he appeared rather pleased.

“You don’t need to explain, I’m not upset.” To my fierce relief he seemed sincere. “Too many place more importance on my family than we warrant. We only hold a title, nothing more.”

I disagreed. They did more than hold a title—they were the reigning force over the entire kingdom; no family had greater prestige or influence. But I pursed my lips and chose to remain silent…about that matter, at least.

“Were you planning on telling me?”

He shrugged. “Eventually, for I’m not foolish enough to think I could get away with keeping it from you for long. Admittedly I hoped to have lasted longer than I did, but at the very least the discovery waited until after you signed the contract; I was afraid if you knew before, you wouldn’t want to become my apprentice.”

There was truth in his assumption. My jaw tightened. “So you lied.”

He shifted guiltily. “Notlied, just…omitted a few essential details.”

The fragile trust I’d managed to build with him faltered. I didn’t need to ask to know it was too late to break our contract; I was bound to this royal wizard for at least a year. Only this thought was strong enough to help me resist the burning temptation to hold a grudge against him for his deceit; if I was trapped as his apprentice for the foreseeable future, the least I could do would be to make the situation as bearable as was within my power…no matter how much I detested the thought.

This determination was insufficient for me to break the tense silence as we walked across the vast grounds farther from the palace in the direction of a small stone building covered in crawling ivy, whose distance of approximately 770 meters from where we’d exited the portal led me to assume it was our intended destination.

I finally broke the quiet awkwardness to ask…but only ended up escalating his uneasiness with my question. “Your Highness, is that—”

“Don’t call me that,” he interrupted with a frown.

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