Chapter 14

It was a beautiful morning, Michael thought, taking a swallow of water and leaning against the fence to watch David finish his practice bout. The sun was warm against his shoulders, a gentle breeze played with his hair and the practice field hadn't been beaten into a choking dust yet. Their income was currently staying ahead of expenses, there was a large commission in the offing and, best of all, they no longer had to hide their association with the princes.

His thoughts wandered to the events of the day before. His arrival had been greeted by a joyous populace before, when he'd been part of a victorious army, but the cheers and exultation had never been directed at him personally. It was a powerful, heady feeling.

The ceremony offering thanks to the gods afterwards had been long and drawn out, with much pomp and circumstance, but every time he stood or knelt or bowed his head in prayer, it had been at Ky'lin's side, and in public acknowledgment that it was his right, his duty even, to be there. During the feasting and celebration that followed, their elevation from the lowly position at the table given to unlanded knights to the princes' sides had also been gratifying, along with the fawning adulation of people who wouldn't have given them the time of day before.

His only regret was that with all of the attention being focused on them during the feasting and celebrations, they had deemed it wiser to stay away from the princes' apartments that evening. He had missed their nightly routine; the time spent alone together, the lovemaking, and holding his prince afterwards.

"Good morning, sir."

"Good morning, Fendric," he replied, shaking off his thoughts to greet the burly guard who had come to stand beside him. "What's the news?"

"Let's see." Fendric leaned against the fence as well, prepared to enjoy a comfortable gossip with the knight. "The queen is in a rage and taking it out on her staff."

"Not a big surprise," Michael remarked.

"Two of her maids had to be taken to the healers, all of her ladies are in hysterics, and I hear they're going to have to replace most of the furniture in her apartments."

"She does have a temper. I'll warn David and the princes to stay out of her sight for a while."

"That's probably a good idea. It won't take much to set her off again. Oh, good thrust!" he added, pausing to admire David's bout with his opponent before continuing the conversation. "The wizard is also in a bad temper."

"Again, not a big surprise," Michael replied dryly. "I didn't see him at the ceremony yesterday or at the evening meal."

"He's locked himself in his workshop and refuses to come out. There have been several small explosions, but they know he's survived. He keeps sending his apprentices to the market for more spell materials and turning them into radishes when they come back."

"Kind of hard on the apprentices, isn't it?" the knight observed.

Fendric shrugged. "The Guild sent another wizard up and he changes them back." He paused to watch the practice again before continuing. "The odds are 3 to 1 in favor of you saving the princes."

"Really?" Michael asked. "That surprises me."

"We have some rather cynical people in this kingdom," Fendric apologized.

"Actually, I'm surprised to hear they're that high," the knight replied. "After all, the king was rather mysterious about the whole situation. How does the Guard feel? Where are you placing your bets?"

"We have complete faith in you, sir," he replied sincerely. "After all, you and the princes have been having private planning sessions for some time. If you're confident enough to have His Majesty announce it publicly, we're sure you know what you're doing."

"Thank you," Michael said, touched by the trust the man showed in them.

"It's been hard on the Guard," Fendric confided. "It's our duty to protect the princes and we'd all die for them, if necessary. To have to stand by idly while they're sacrificed goes against everything we stand for. Having you choose to wear our uniform as you defend them means a great deal to us."

"Thank you," the knight said awkwardly, unsure how to reply. Fortunately, it wasn't necessary as David 'killed' his foe just then and Fendric's attention switched to the other knight.

"Excellent job, sir! Well done!" Fendric said as David approached them. "Where did you learn that last maneuver? I haven't seen it done before."

"Thank you," he replied as he stripped off his gauntlets and took the dipper of water Michael offered to him. "I'll show you how it's done later, if you'd like. It's something we picked up on a campaign in Tikreet; we've been trying to adapt it to the short sword and teach it to the princes. Where are they, anyway?" he added, looking around.

"They're not here yet." Michael frowned as he glanced around as well. "I think we're going to have to have another discussion on punctuality."

"Perhaps they just lost track of time," Fendric suggested. "Would you like me to remind them that you're waiting, sir?"

"No, that's all right," Michael declined. "I think Larim is waiting for you. We'll check with Joris. It's possible that they had another obligation and forgot to tell us."

"They didn't have another obligation," David said darkly as the guardsman nodded good-bye and went to greet his sparring partner. "They deliberately didn't show up."

"I know," Michael replied. "But there's no sense in having a public confrontation. I'd rather deal with it in person."

~~~~~~~~~~

"What are you looking at?" Ty asked curiously as he came out of his bedchamber, still tying the belt of his short, navy silk robe.

"Fabric samples," Ky replied absently, engrossed in what he was doing. He had laid several small pieces of pastel fabric on the table near the windows and was holding swatches of brighter material against them, comparing shades and textures.

"We aren't really going to wear these, are we?" Ty asked, picking up a pale primrose square between his thumb and forefinger and staring at it doubtfully.

"No, the queen is," his twin replied. "My source finally came through. These pale ones are samples of the new gowns she had made. The bright ones are the ones we're going to wear."

"That green you're holding makes the pale one look kind of sick," Ty observed.

"That's the idea," Ky said with a smug grin.

"What's the idea?" Michael asked. "And why weren't you at weapons practice?"

Both princes jumped guiltily and Ky hastily swept the squares of cloth back into their bag and pulled the drawstring tight.

"Hi, Michael. You startled us. We didn't hear you come in," he said with a bright smile. "How are you this morning? Did you sleep well? Would you like something to drink?"

"I slept fine," the knight told him. "And don't change the subject. Where were you this morning?"

"Right here," Ty replied as Ky surreptitiously dropped the bag and kicked it under the chair. "Sit down, David. I don't like it when you loom over me like that. It makes my neck ache to look up at you."

"Why didn't you come to practice this morning?" David asked sternly, not moving.

"Fine. I'll sit." Ty dropped into the chair, provocatively swinging one leg and enjoying the way David's appreciative gaze swept the length of thigh exposed by the action.

"Ty'lin!" David managed to pull his mind back to the topic at hand. "Why. Didn't. You. Come. To. Practice?"

"We were tired," Ky explained placatingly. "Yesterday was a long day. And we didn't think we had to go anymore." He hurriedly sat down to get away from his own loomer.

"Right," Ty said. He started to play idly with the belt of his robe, then caught David's Look and hastily dropped it. Obviously, that ploy wasn't going to work a second time. "We don't need to go to weapons practice. We can see you any time now."

"That wasn't why you had weapons practice," the blond knight told him.

"Yes, it was," Ky disagreed.

"No. It wasn't," Michael contradicted in turn. "You had, and will continue to have, weapons practice because we are being paid to teach you how to fight."

"And we learned a lot from you," Ty assured him graciously. "But it really isn't necessary anymore. We can defend ourselves just-- HEY! STOP THAT!" he yelped as he found himself standing with his back against David's chest, the knight's forearm across his throat.

"Obviously you still have a few lessons to learn," his instructor informed him. "Now go get dressed." He turned the young man and gave him a swat on the butt to send him on his way.

"You, too, Ky," Michael ordered. His lips twitched as the prince tried to stand and back away without exposing his own butt. "You have until I count to twenty."

"Michael! I can't get dressed that fast!" he protested indignantly.

"One. Two-"

The prince fled.

~~~~~~~~~~~

"Are you going on the Hunt this afternoon?" Michael asked the princes as they were cleaning up after practice. Since their sword practice had been preceded by a lesson in unarmed combat and the proper way to take a fall, they were more in need of cleaning than their weapons. It was something Ty had already complained about bitterly, and at great length.

"I wasn't going to," Ky replied, wiping the sweat from his forehead with one grimy hand. "I'm planning to have a bath and a meal - a *late* meal -" he added pointedly, "and then spend the afternoon working on our new wardrobe. Why? Did you want us to?"

"Get here on time and you'll get out on time," Michael said placidly. "And no, actually, I think it's better if you don't."

"Why?" Ty was instantly suspicious.

"Because the queen is still in a rage and we think it would be better if she had a chance to work some of it off before she does something that's going to cause all of us a lot of grief," David explained. "And seeing you - or me - will only make it worse."

"So *we're* supposed to give up an afternoon's pleasure because *she* can't control herself?" the prince demanded irately. "If she doesn't want to see us, she can stay in her apartments. I'm not going out of my way to avoid her!"

"Right!"

"We're not saying you have to go out of your way to avoid her," Michael told them patiently. "But we do want you to avoid taunting her or making her more miserable than she already is."

"And that goes for Andronicus, too." David added. "They've both taken some blows to their pride. You don't need to rub it in."

Ty glared at him, a look that David returned without flinching until Ty finally broke the contact. "Fine," he said ungraciously. "We won't go hunting this afternoon. We'll lock ourselves away in our rooms so we won't offend anyone."

"Maybe you'd better stay away, too," Ky suggested pettishly. "After all, you must have better things to do than hide from the world with us."

"Maybe you should go hunting with the queen, David. I'm sure *you* can make her forget all about me," Ty snapped, gratified to see the knight wince at the acid remark.

"Enough," Michael told them firmly. "Ky'lin, you've already said you were planning on spending the afternoon in your quarters; there's no need to make a fuss about us agreeing that it's a good idea."

"As long as it's just agreement, not a direct order," the prince muttered.

"No, that's not a direct order," Michael told him. "But this is. Leave. Them. Alone. Is that clear?"

"That goes for you, as well, Ty'lin," David added. "Now go take a bath and get something to eat. I'll finish cleaning up here and be along a little later."

"Me, too?" Ky asked Michael, who shrugged and waved him off.

"You shouldn't let him leave without finishing up like that," he told David after they'd left.

"I wasn't looking at it as letting him leave without finishing, as much as letting him get away before he decided to do something stupid, just to show me he can. He has a lot of pride, you know."

"They both do," Michael sighed. "And I really hope they can keep it under control."

~~~~~~~~~~

"What are we wearing this evening, Ky? We need to start getting dressed soon."

Ky looked up as his brother entered the chamber where he lay across the bed. "Don't know yet," he replied, rolling over and sitting up. "I'm still waiting to hear what she's wearing."

"Do you think that's a good idea?" Ty asked dubiously. "You heard what David and Michael said."

"Yes," Ky replied, burying his doubts before he could change his mind. "They said to leave her alone. But we aren't doing anything to her, right? To either one of them. We're just deciding what to wear for the evening. Something we've done every afternoon for the past two years."

"Right," Ty agreed. "Except this is the first time we've waited to find out what she's wearing first."

"Ty'lin," Ky reproved with a frown, "you're starting to sound like David."

"Oh. Sorry," his twin apologized. "Won't happen again."

"Good. We aren't doing anything to her," he repeated. "We're not gloating or spreading rumors about her or sending people out into the garden to taunt her."

"We're just innocently picking out our clothing for the evening," Ty agreed, getting into the spirit. "And if she happens to wear something that clashes with it, how is that our problem? We didn't tell her to wear it."

"Exactly. And I've put a lot of effort into this; it's a great plan. I'm not going to give it up just because Michael is worried about the poor dear's feelings."

"Right," Ty agreed again. "So that's our story?"

"The part about it all being innocent, yes. The part about it being a great plan, no," Ky replied with a grin.

~~~~~~~~

The princes arrived at the Dining Hall a little earlier than usual that evening. The tables were set and waiting, but most people hadn't arrived yet. A few had already found their places and were conversing quietly with their seatmates, others stood about, waiting for friends. Finding a quiet spot off to one side, the two young men chatted with several of their friends, one eye on the door.

"I adore those colors," Carrissa, the finance minister's blonde young daughter, gushed. "But I thought you had decided to wear only black."

"We changed our mind," Ty replied with a mischievous grin, and then laughed as several of the young men around them groaned.

"Have a heart!" her brother, Anselm, protested. "I've already spent all of this month's clothing allowance on black!"

"There's Her Grace," Carrissa pointed out and the others all turned to look.

"Ahhh," Anselm said as light dawned. "That's why you aren't wearing black tonight."

Queen Alida paused in the doorway until she was sure all eyes were on her, then gracefully made her way across the room. She was dressed in a gown of the palest green, soft and flowing, with a simple, square-cut bodice, and full, sweeping sleeves that hung almost to the floor. Tiny pearls and a tracing of silver embroidery decorated the bodice and sleeves, her only adornment other than a delicate tiara of silver and pearls. Altogether, she looked exquisite and alluring, an ethereal woodland nymph set down in coarser company for the evening.

"We'd better say hello," Ty decided. "We wouldn't want her to think we're avoiding her, would we?"

"You are *so* brave," Carrissa told him admiringly.

"Thank you. Would you like to come along?" he asked, gallantly offering her his arm.

"No, we'll just watch," she laughingly declined the invitation. "I think it's a little safer over here."

"Coward," Ty accused with a returning laugh. "Coming, Ky?"

"Wouldn't miss it for the world," his twin replied promptly.

"Your Grace," Ty said as they sauntered up behind her. "You look enchanting this evening. That' an excellent color for you, if you don't mind me saying so."

The queen turned, a gracious smile on her lips, a smile that turned to hastily concealed rage as she took in their garb.

Ky had chosen high-collared tunics of shimmering silk, in a rich purple that emphasized the ebony of their hair and turned their eyes a dark violet. The shirts beneath were a bright gold, with full sleeves gathered at the cuff and slashed to show the same purple lining at the animated princes' every gesture. Rare violet gems from Bridania were set into their golden coronets and the same stones graced the ring, earring, and belt of each prince.

As the pale, exquisite beauty of a moth is eclipsed by the vibrancy of its daytime cousins, the queen's soft-hued ethereal beauty was overwhelmed by the vibrancy of the princes. And she realized it. Her fingers clenched, forming claws that ached to rip the bright, vivid clothing off them and shred it with her long, delicately hued nails. How dare they? How DARE they?

"Are you feeling well, Your Grace?" Ky asked politely. "You look... pale."

"Gods, that was fun!" Ty exclaimed as they returned to their friends. "Did you see her face?"

"Yes," Anselm chortled. "I thought she was going to attack you right there."

"Not some place this public," Ty replied confidently. "But we should probably watch our backs for a while."

"You'd better," Carrissa agreed, her eyes still on the queen. "If looks could kill you'd be dead by now."

"Uh oh," Ky said, as he followed her gaze.

"What?"

"Michael and David," Ky told his twin.

"Damn! What are they doing here so early? They never arrive until it's almost time to eat."

"And they don't look happy," Ky added, watching them approach.

"Your Champions?" one of the other young men asked in confusion. "Why is that a problem?"

"They don't like us taunting the queen," Ty replied with a frown.

"So? Why is that any of their business?" he persisted.

"Don't be silly," Carrissa reproved before the princes could think up an answer, "they're the Princes' Champions. If the queen gets angry enough to attack the princes, they have to protect them."

"Would you be happy about standing between the queen and her prey?" asked Anselm.

"Point."

"Your Highnesses. You're in an excellent mood this evening," Michael greeted them, his eyes moving from them to the queen and back. "Interesting choice of colors, Ky'lin. I thought you had decided to stick to black."

"Michael, David, have you met our friends?" Ty interceded, and by the time introductions had been performed, the king had arrived and the signal had been given to take their places at the table.

The evening wasn't a total success for Ky. Once the feeling of triumph had worn off, it grew increasingly difficult to make light-hearted conversation with their friends, accepting their congratulations and enjoying the dark glowers of the queen's faction; he was too aware of Michael's steady, thoughtful regard in the background.

"He just stands there and looks at me!" Ky told his brother bitterly during a rare moment alone together. "How can I have any fun with him standing there looking at me??"

"Ignore him," Ty advised.

"I can't ignore him! Every time I turn around he's right there!"

"So? David's right there, too, and I'm ignoring him."

"That's different. David isn't as angry."

"You know, you really need to develop some backbone, little brother," Ty said frankly. "What can he do to you in a public hall?"

"He can look at me."

Ty sighed.

Finally, as the evening drew to a close, Michael caught the prince's eye and nodded slightly toward the door, his first attempt at communication since they'd left the table.

Recognizing the command in the gesture, Ky broke off his current conversation as soon as he could and made his way to the door, where he waited impatiently for Ty.

"What took you so long?" he asked irritably when his twin finally showed up.

"I was talking to one of the diplomats from Tikreet and I couldn't just walk away from him. The negotiations are sensitive enough without having them think they've been insulted. Unless you *want* them massing on our border?"

"All right," Ky reluctantly conceded the point, "but we need to hurry."

"Why?" Ty asked logically. "We're already in trouble. Why rush to meet it?"

"Ty'lin!"

"Oh, all *right*. Come on." They were hastening along the corridor leading to their tower when Andronicus popped out of a side chamber and intercepted them.

"Your Highnesses. Just the people I wanted to see."

"Damn, damn, damn," Ty muttered under his breath. The wizard was the last person he wanted to see right now. "We're in a bit of a hurry right now, Sir Wizard," he said aloud. "Tomorrow would be a better time."

"Now," the wizard insisted, grasping the prince's arm. "I must talk to you about those knights. It's a matter of some urgency. You must listen to me."

"I think we'd better listen to him, Ty," Ky'lin advised, his anxiety over Michael temporarily forgotten. "He might know something important."

"All right." Ty picked up on the unspoken warning. "What is it, Andronicus?"

"It's about the knights," he repeated, attempting to draw them into the deserted chamber. "I know how they're going to defeat the dragon."

Gods! How had the ass managed to puzzle it out? And, more to the point, how were they going to shut his mouth before he told anyone else? As brief, tempting images of stabbing the man and throwing his body off the castle wall flickered through Ty's head, Ky decided to try a more open approach.

"How are they going to do it?" he asked. "And how did you figure it out?"

"It's obvious," he said with pride. "Somehow they've stolen a precious magical artifact that will destroy the animal, and, intent on reward and glory, they plan on using it to confront him. They must be stopped, Your Highnesses, before a catastrophe strikes and that animal wins again! And you're the only ones who can do it. I've already searched their chambers and found nothing; they must have it hidden away somewhere. You must find out where it is and turn it over to me at once. Only the Wizards' Guild is equipped to study it and ascertain the best methods for its use. Who knows what kind of disaster will occur if a mere soldier attempts to use it!" He grew more agitated at the very thought.

"That's it?" Ky asked in amazement. "You expect us to steal this magical artifact from them, one that you didn't realize existed before now, and hand it over to you without question?" And trust that you will share it with the rest of the Guild?"

"You must be out of your mind, Wizard," Ty retorted, torn between disgust and relief. "After the way you've bungled things and gotten so many men killed already? We're going to be years recovering from your stupidity now. Not to mention that we wouldn't be in this position if you hadn't been such a fool in the first place. I wouldn't trust you to make my bed, let alone save my life!" Come on, Ky." He shook the man's hand off his arm and continued quickly down the corridor, ignoring the gabbling sounds behind him.

"Are you sure that was a good idea?" Ky asked as he hurried to catch up with his brother.

"No," Ty admitted. "It probably wasn't. But he had it coming."

Uneasily aware of how much time had passed, Ky was practically running by the time they reached the tower stairs. Just out of sight of the guards, they slowed to a more sedate pace, pausing long enough to smooth their hair back and straighten their tunics. Nodding briefly at the waiting guards, they climbed the stairs to their quarters.

The knights were already there when they entered the solar. David was sitting in 'his' chair, long legs stretched out in front of him, wine goblet in his hand. Michael was standing at the window, staring out at the dark night sky.

He turned as they came in, and Ky searched his face, uncertain what he would find, seeking unspoken forgiveness for his actions. Faced with a firm, implacable mask, he swiftly considered his options and decided that perhaps humble and placating was the best tactic.

"I'm sorry we're late," he said softly. "Ty was with the diplomat from Tikreet and couldn't get away as quickly as he would have liked. Have you been waiting long?"

"The Tikreetians are very sensitive. You have to handle them with kid gloves," Ty explained absently, looking around. "Where's Joris?"

Though he wasn't present, there were signs that the man had been there recently. A tray bearing a pitcher of steaming chocolate waited on the table by the fireplace, along with a plate of the small cakes they liked so well.

As neither knight replied, he shrugged and poured his own chocolate, filling a cup for Ky as well. "Would you like some?" he asked the other men considerately.

"Michael, please say something," Ky requested, as the knights remained silent.

"What is there to say, Ky'lin?" the dark-haired knight asked evenly, arms folded across his chest. "What can we tell you that won't go in one ear and out the other?"

"That's not fair! I listen to you!" Ky protested defensively. "We listen to you all the time!"

"Really?" Michael raised one eloquent eyebrow. "Are you sure about that? Because I could have sworn I told you to leave the queen alone. I thought I was quite clear about it. But there you were, not half a day later, deliberately antagonizing her."

"We were just wearing our new clothing. You're the one who told us to get a new wardrobe!" Ty protested.

"We told you to wear longer tunics, not use them to make the queen look like a fool," David told him bitingly.

"It's not our fault she looks like a fool! She can accomplish that without us ever entering the room!" Ty flared.

"You can drop the innocent act," Michael advised him. "This wasn't an accident. You deliberately set out to make her look bad, Ky'lin. This has your fine hand written all over it."

"Michael!"

"Are you denying it?" the dark-haired knight asked. He picked up a small cloth bag from the table next to him. "Are you telling me that this wasn't planned in advance?" He turned the bag over and a shower of small fabric squares fluttered to the floor. "Or that you weren't the one who planned it?"

Ky could have kicked himself, remembering that he had dropped the bag under a chair earlier and forgotten about it. Joris must have found it and left it on the table for them. "I'm sorry, Michael," he whispered in surrender, eyes on the floor. "Please don't be angry at Ty, David. He didn't have anything to do with it. It was all my idea."

"No, it wasn't," Ty objected loyally. "You thought of it, but I went along with it. And why are you so angry?" he demanded of the knights. "You're our Champions; you're supposed to be on our side! Why are you defending her instead of us?"

"Because we're your Champions," Michael said flatly. "It's our duty to protect you, from your own actions, as well as those of others. And when you antagonize her to the point of violence, we're the ones who'll have to deal with it."

Ky flinched, remembering that their friends had said something similar. Why hadn't he seen it before? He'd been so busy planning revenge that he hadn't even thought about how the knights might be involved. "I'm sorry," he whispered again, filled with self-reproach.

Ty wasn't quite as willing to give up without a fight. "I don't think she's going to get violent, though," he said consideringly. "It isn't her style. She's more likely to do a sneak attack, not a frontal assault."

"Ty'lin, we're discussing *your* behavior, not *her* tactics! And it doesn't matter what you think. It matters what we say."

"And we said to leave her alone. Not to leave her alone unless you feel it's safe to publicly humiliate her," Michael reminded them.

"And that goes for the wizard, too," David added. "You haven't done anything to antagonize him yet, have you?

"Uh..." Ty demurred, thinking uneasily of the conversation in the corridor.

"Ty'lin?" David asked in a remarkably calm voice. "What did you do to the wizard?"

"It wasn't Ty's fault!" Ky quickly rose to his twin's defense. "He started it!"

"I see." Michael took a deep breath. "Ky'lin, why don't you go get ready for bed?"

"But, Michael! It wasn't our fault! He's the one-- Yes, sir." Remembering his humble and placating approach, he gave in and meekly left the room.

"You, too, Ty'lin," David told the other prince. "Gods, what are we going to do with them?" he demanded after they were gone.

"First, we're going to calm down," Michael said, pouring himself another glass of wine.

"Then we're going to beat some sense into them?" David asked hopefully.

Ky entered his bedchamber mournfully. All of his earlier feelings of triumphant glee were gone, cast out by guilt and remorse. He stripped off the offending tunic and shirt and threw them on the floor in the corner. Joris could get rid of them in the morning. He never wanted to see them again.

He finished undressing, then, taking a short, comfortable bed robe from a hook in his wardrobe, he shrugged into it and tied the belt. Not sure what to do next, he sat down on the bed and stared at his feet until Michael came in.

"I'm sorry, Michael," he repeated penitently as soon as his lover entered the room. "You were right and I was wrong. It was a stupid thing to do. I guess I just wasn't thinking."

"No, I don't think that's it at all," Michael contradicted as he sat down on the bed next to him. "You were thinking. But you were thinking about getting even and impressing your friends, not about doing what was right or what I told you to do. Weren't you?"

"Yes, Michael." He hung his head.

"It has to stop, babe," Michael told him firmly. "And it has to stop now. This behavior is beneath you. And I know you don't believe me, but pushing her over the edge isn't going to make you feel better. It's only going to make things worse."

"I know," Ky sighed. "We won't do it anymore, I swear. Please don't be angry at me anymore."

"I'm not angry at you anymore," the knight assured him. "But you are going to be punished for it." He eased the young man down over his knees and pushed the silk robe out of the way.

"Michael! No! You don't have to do this!" Ky fought to get up, remembering all too well the last time he'd been in this position. "I've learned my lesson. I won't do it again. I promise!"

As the iron band clamped around his waist, he gave up on the futile struggle and focused instead on salvaging what remained of his pride. He came from a long line of warriors, he reasoned, and his great uncle Godrun was famous for remaining silent under the worst torture his enemies could devise. With that as his example, surely he could withstand a simple spanking without acting like a baby. He clenched his teeth and braced himself as the heavy hand fell across his butt.

His resolve withstood the first dozen swats, but by the time his bottom was a warm, deep pink he was breathing hard and having trouble remembering who Great-Uncle Godrun was. By the time Michael had turned the pink to scarlet, he didn't care. He was vaguely aware of the cries coming from the other bedchamber, but most of his attention was focused on the pain that had become the center of his universe and the need to struggle and cry out against it. Finally, when he didn't think he could possibly endure one more swat, it was over. Sliding to his knees, leaning against the older man's leg, the choking sobs slowly became whimpers, then sniffles, as he worked his way back to composure.

"There now, babe, it's all right," Michael soothed him, gently rubbing his back. "Catch your breath now. It's all over. You're all right."

He thought about Great-uncle Godrun again later, though, after he had been soothed and petted and tucked into bed, his head resting on Michael's broad chest. He sniffed deeply, dismally aware of how he had failed to live up to the family name. Great-uncle Godrun would never have cried during a spanking, let alone found comfort in cuddling up to the spanker afterwards.

"What's wrong, sweetheart?" Michael asked, gently rubbing his back. "Why the heavy sigh?"

He explained, somewhat confusedly, and was rewarded with an affectionate chuckle and a slightly awkward kiss to the top of his head.

"It's a different kind of pain," the knight explained to him, holding him close and stroking his hair. "I haven't been tortured but I've been wounded in battle, and I didn't cry then; not the way I did when I was paddled."

"Why?" Ky asked in sleepy bewilderment. "Doesn't being wounded hurt worse?"

"I don't know why." Michael considered it. "Maybe it's because when you're spanked you know you've let someone down that you care about? Or you're disappointed in yourself? Anyway, I'll bet your great-uncle cried when he was spanked, too. And probably wished he had someone to cuddle with afterwards."

Ky tried to think about that, but the bed was soft and comfortable and Michael's arms were warm and reassuring. His eyes closed and he drifted into sleep.

He awakened some time later, to find himself alone in the bed. "Michael?"

"I'm right here, babe," the knight replied. He finished tucking his shirt into his breeches as he spoke.

"Don't go."

"I have to. It's getting late and I can't spend the whole night with you again. Not with so many eyes on us." He sat on the edge of the bed and pulled the unhappy young man into a loving embrace. "I'll be back in a few hours. You'll be all right until then."

The door between the bedchambers opened and David entered, already dressed, steering a sleepy Ty in front of him. "I heard you talking," he explained. "Ty doesn't want to be alone, either."

He guided the yawning prince to the bed and helped him pull his robe off and get under the covers.

"Curl up with Ty now," Michael gently urged his beloved. "And try to get some sleep. We'll be back for breakfast."

"All right," Ky replied reluctantly as he lay down again. "Don't be late."

"I won't," Michael said with a loving smile. One last hug and kiss, then he and David quietly blew out the candles and departed, leaving the princes to their dreams.