Free The Errant Prince by Sasha L. Miller

seven years ago.
    "You know, your highness ," Myron said, emphasizing Tamsen's title, "when you said you'd shift us to the palace, I didn't think you meant you'd shift us to the king's offices."
    It didn't make Tamsen's urge to throw up go away, but he was still fervently thankful that Myron had broken the silence. He glanced at Myron, glad to see that despite his words, Myron didn't seem too upset over the omission. He grinned at Tamsen, apparently unperturbed by the sword at this throat. He held his hands away from his sides—and his own sword, Tamsen realized belatedly.
    Myron's words broke the shock paralyzing the room. "Stand down," Stirling ordered. He stood, nearly knocking his chair over in his haste to get around his desk. The guards moved, and Tamsen froze in surprise when Stirling dragged him into a rough embrace. "You couldn't use the door like a normal person, brat?"
    Tamsen laughed, a little shakily, but returned the embrace. He'd expected anger, yelling, disappointment—not for Stirling to hug him. What had Hartley told Stirling? Stirling stepped back, holding Tamsen at arm's length as he scrutinized him. What did he see? Tamsen looked away, not wanting to see disappointment or worse, and noticed for the first time that there were more people than just Hartley and Stirling in the room.
    It took him a moment to place Adalynn and Garrett Vere, heads of the Tower, though he didn't recognize the other woman seated before Stirling's desk. Tamsen snuck a glance at Myron, but if he cared that his parents were there, it didn't show on his face. Stirling followed his look, stepping back, and Tamsen could pinpoint the exact moment he switched from brother to king. 
    "Guardsman Vere—" Stirling began, so obviously he was aware of who Myron was. Why hadn't he interceded on Myron's behalf when it came to his magic?
    "It's just Myron, your majesty," Myron said, rudely interrupting Stirling. "I gave up the Vere name years ago."
    Tamsen caught Garrett's flinch out of the corner of his eye and took some small satisfaction from it. It wouldn't look good for the Veres that their disowned son was the one who'd brought Tamsen home. Stirling looked surprised at that, but he recovered quickly.
    "Guardsman Myron, then," Stirling said. "Thank you for bringing my brother home."
    "It was my pleasure, your majesty," Myron replied, dipping a formal bow.
    Stirling turned to the people gathered around his desk. Tamsen stoically refused to look at Hartley again, absolutely not wanting to meet Hartley's eyes. It was bad enough he was in the same room; Tamsen didn't want to invite any sort of conversation.
    "We'll pick this up tomorrow," Stirling said, a firm dismissal. "Meet back here at third bell."
    The unknown woman was the first to move, collecting together her portfolio. She rose from her seat, murmuring, "your majesty," with a nod. She headed toward the door, giving Tamsen a lingering, curious look, but not saying anything to him.
    The Veres left next, Adalynn looking unhappy and Garrett impassive. Tamsen endured their stares, as well, sure that they would be the first of many. Adalynn seemed torn between staring at him and Myron, though if Myron noticed, he gave no indication of it. Tamsen couldn't help but shift restlessly, all too aware that Hartley was making no move to leave.
    "That means you, too, Hartley," Stirling said, impatience bleeding into his voice. "We can discuss your proposal later." Tamsen's heart lurched at the word 'proposal,' but that couldn't be literal.
    "Yes, your majesty," Hartley said, and even his voice sounded the same: calm, collected, no sign of feeling. He finally moved, and Tamsen made the mistake of looking at him. "I hope we'll have the chance to catch up soon, your highness."
    Tamsen pointedly didn't reply, looking away and pretending Hartley wasn't there. It was petty and rude, but Tamsen didn't care. He didn't have to be polite. He wasn't staying, so he could be rude to Hartley or anyone else who