“That much is obvious,” Gary said.
“I meant between the two of you. Someone certainly rolled in a pile of sass before they came to the feast today.”
“It’s merely a mutual agreement on each other’s aesthetic attributes,” the King said.
&nb
sp; “That and the fact that you are like a walking daddy fetish,” Gary said.
Justin made a strange noise next to the King, and I looked up to see him glaring at us. Specifically me. I smiled back. His scowl deepened.
“Maybe we should move on to the reason we’re here?” Morgan said, not unkindly. It was probably for the best. We tended to get distracted very easily, even if there were a thousand people staring up at us, no doubt listening to every word we’d said.
So the King stood before his subjects and gave a long and winding speech about unity and love and the power of Verania, blah, blah, something, something. I’d heard it a billion times before so it was easy to tune out. I scanned the crowd, picking out familiar faces, friends and enemies alike. Not everyone in Verania appreciated magic. Some went so far as to see it as a thing of evil, a demon’s gift, but they were few and far between. We lived in a more modern age of science and free love.
But there were a lot of faces that I didn’t expect to see. Usually, it was the old and rich, the top tier of society with their fancy clothes and sticky perfumes.
And some of them were there.
But much of the crowd was younger than normal.
And much of them were male.
The sons of the old and rich.
Something wasn’t quite right.
It wasn’t until I heard the King say Ryan’s name that I listened back in, because he was saying things like brave and selfless and kind and caring and how at twenty-five, Ryan would be the youngest Knight Commander in history. “He is the true definition of knighthood,” King Anthony said. “From his peers to his superiors—”
“And your penis,” Gary whispered to me.
I quietly kicked him in the leg. He snorted out orange sparkles.
“—Knight Foxheart has been constantly commended and singled out for his courage and valor in the face of what could often be seen as insurmountable odds.”
“He is definitely mountable,” Gary whispered to me.
I silently punched him in the throat.
And then Knight Ryan Foxheart was announced and the crowd turned toward the Great Doors. They opened and I’m pretty sure choirs of angels were singing and at least fourteen women in the room became spontaneously pregnant because godsdamn.
His armor was new, infused with lines of red rock across the breastplate to signify the rank of commander. His sword hung heavy at his side. His shield was strapped to his back. His eyes were wide, his hair slicked back. He was completely and truly beautiful.
“He certainly fills out that uniform,” Gary whispered.
“I’d like to fill him out,” I whispered back because my resolve to get over him had gone by way of fickle wind. Which was to say I wanted to tap that ass because he was hot like fire.
Morgan kicked us both.
Ryan walked with grace and confidence, but I’d been watching him for a long time. The tense line of his jaw. His hands curled at his sides. The tiniest stutter in his steps.
He was nervous.
And it was adorable.
And for some reason, his eyes were on me.
And they stayed on me until he stood before the King.