Page 24 of Tristan
The lie works better than I planned and serves as a distraction. I bask in my victory as he leads me into the dining hall and to my seat.
Everyone is present. Well almost everyone—not my father. It’s just as well; it looks like my little detour has made us late and everyone’s begun eating without us. I’d rather not have Father know I’mstill arriving late to breakfast as a married man. But while it takes the sting out of his absence, I wouldalmostprefer his disappointed glare to his not coming at all.
“Good morning little man,” Papa says.
“Papa,” I hiss.
“Sorry, Tristan. You are a married man now—I shouldn’t be calling you that.”
He’s hurt. I don’t like to see him hurt. “It’s all right, Papa.”
He smiles. “No matter how big you get, you will always be my little boy. Why don’t you plate up then? I can’t have my son starve his last morning in Markaytia.” He struggles to say the last bit; tears shine in his emerald eyes. He turns away and wipes at them. “I’m sorry, Tristan. Arcade told me I shouldn’t come, he almost forbid it, but I need to tell you something.”
He does? Is he going to disobey, Father? That’s nearly unheard of. Papa doesn’t do that. My curiosity’s piqued though.
“So, how wasit?” Lucca interrupts, waggling his brows.
I whack my cousin and I look over to Corrik to see what he thinks of Lucca asking such a personal question about our wedding night, but Corrik isn’t even there. He’s gone over to talk with his parents, and I notice his mother and father keep looking at me out of the corners of their eyes as they talk with their son in what appears to be a serious conversation. It’s like they fear I’m going to bolt or burn up the treaty at any moment.
“Has the prince got you that googly eyed you can’t stop looking at him? It must have been good—why I bet you wish you were still alone with him in your bedroom, so you could—"
“—Lucca.” I look to Papa beside us, Papa’s blushing like I expect him to be.
“It’s all right son. Chat with your cousin, but come talk with me before you leave,” he says.
“Didn’t you enjoy your night?” Lucca says without remorse. I forgive him because he’s Lucca. His question has a complicatedanswer, but I know Lucca only cares about the sex part of the night, so I answer him about that even if I’d rather not.
“The Prince is an excellent lover.”
“The Prince is an excellent lover,” he mocks. “You sound like you’re reciting the alphabet. C’mon. Don’t I deserve more details than that? I’ve always been forthcoming with my sexual escapades.”
“Maybe more than you should have been.”
“Fine, so you won’t give me details, but you really did enjoy, yes Tristan? I need to know my cousin is well taken care of.”
I wonder what he thinks he could do if I wasn’t‘taken care of,’ but instead I think back to the moments the prince’s engorged cock slammed into my most private place and the sensations of ecstasy drumming through me. My cheeks heat. “It was everything I hoped it would be.”
He smiles wide. “Good. That man may be a prickly bastard, but at least he’s good in the sack.”
“Ah, our dear sweet Lucca,” Corrik says, returning to his seat. Damn it. Did he hear what Lucca just said about him? Probably. I remember my vow and don’t defend him—my cousin is on his own this time.
Lucca shudders before he turns around to force a fake smile at Corrik. “Good morning, Prince Corrik.”
“Thank you for living up to your end of our bargain.”
“My sincerest apologies, Prince Corrik. Thank you for not reporting me to your father. It was a foolish, childish action.”
Lucca is a talented actor. He’s not sorry at all. He’s never been sorry for anything in his life, but he’s managed to convince his father of his ‘remorse’ many times.
“Very foolish,” Corrik agrees.
Lucca takes that as his cue to return to his seat, but he lifts his glass from across the table at me, most certainly toasting to my lost virginity.
I decide to keep silent and eat as per my papa’s suggestion and I remember he came here to tell me something. I’m curious as to whatso I decide to take my plate over to that side of the table and eat with him. I don’t get far.
“Where are you going, Kathir?”
“Nowhere,” I mutter as I take my seat again.
