The disgust faded from the mage's face, giving way to a vague, detached expression.
Alex took a step back. He hadn't imagined it — he had really looked at him as if he were filth on his boots. What on earth was wrong with him?
"Alex," his father called. "The vow."
"No." He handed the sword back to the page. "I don't think we should proceed."
A cacophony of voices erupted in the hall.
The mage frowned, his poison-green eyes flashing with rage. "After summoning me here and making me kneel for an entire hour, now you would send me away?"
Alex raised an eyebrow. "It was my father who summoned you. You can complain to him, if you have the guts."
"I'm complaining to you, Your Highness. You arrived late. You're truly irresponsible."
The uproar grew louder. The herald rang his silver bell, but even that couldn't restore order.
The prince leaned forward slightly, meeting his gaze head-on. "Think what you want. I don't like you, and I refuse to bind myself to you."
"Good. The sentiment is mutual, if you really want to know."
He had to give him credit for having the courage to answer back like that. Courage bordering on stupidity.
Alex straightened and turned toward his father. "It seems he doesn't like this role either. How about we dismiss everyone, send him back where he came from, and look for another candidate?"
Maybe someone who wouldn't be disappointed in him at first sight.
King Klaus raised a hand, and silence fell, heavy as a stone.
"You all may leave. I need to speak with my son and Mr. Traver in private."
A murmur rippled through the crowd, and with a rustle of fabric and clicking heels, the hall emptied.
Alex guessed that within hours, the entire palace would be whispering about how he'd trampled over tradition.
He grimaced. So be it — he was used to disappointing people.
His father sat on the throne, resting his chin on one hand while the other tapped on the armrest. His sharp, predatory eyes studied them in turn. "Alex, this wasn't the agreement."
"We had no agreement. You ignored my request and brought this… gentleman here. What else did you expect?"
"A son who, for once in his damn life, would obey without making a scene."
"Sorry if I'm not the shining example of virtue you want me to be."
His father pinched the bridge of his nose. "By the spirits, sometimes you're so immature."
"Sorry to disappoint you on that front as well." Alex turned his back. "Now, if you'll excuse me, I'm going for a ride."
"We're not finished!"
The prince stiffened. His father rarely raised his voice. He didn't need to; a single gesture was enough to command obedience instantly. All qualities Alex would never possess.
The king rose, and the prince still found him intimidating, just as when he'd been a boy.
"You're an adult. You have responsibilities toward this kingdom and this court. Do you really think you can still act this way?"
"I—"
"Silence." He turned his gaze to the mage. "And you. Has no one taught you court etiquette? What possessed you to encourage him and talk back to him like that?"
"I am deeply sorry, Your Majesty." William — or whatever his name was — bowed low to the marble floor. "Please, punish me as you see fit."
Alex's lips curled into a satisfied smile. Good. After that answer, his father would surely throw him out, and then he—
"Do you find this amusing, Alex?"
The smile vanished from his face. "No, I was just thinking you should send him back where he came from."
"On the contrary, he'll stay. He will be your Court Mage."
"Why? I don't like him, he doesn't like me — this will never work. It'll just be torture for both of us."
"Gregoris trusts him, and I trust his judgment."
Alex blinked and glanced at the mage. Had the current Court Mage personally recommended him?
His lips curled in disdain. "So what? I don't want him."
"Stop acting like a spoiled child."
"I'm not!"
His father shot him a sharp look. "Where were you this morning?"
"In my room."
"Liar. The maid found your bed already made when she came to wake you."
Alex pressed his lips together. "If you already know, can we drop the charade?"
"Where were you, Alex?"
"Fine, I'll tell you. But not in front of him."
"You'll tell me right here. William waited kneeling on that floor for a damn hour; he deserves to know why you were late."
William cast him a sidelong glance, then back to the floor, his expression somewhere between boredom and apathy. A statue would've been more expressive.
"There's no need, Your Majesty. The prince's affairs don't concern me."
"For once, we agree on something."
His father began pacing in front of the throne, hands clasped behind his back, his sharp gaze fixed on them both.
"I don't care how you do it, but you two will make this work. You have one week to get to know each other and find some common ground. Then you'll perform the Crown Pact. No objections."
The mage bowed his head. "As you wish, Your Majesty."
Alex rolled his eyes. "Fine, fine."
He wanted to refuse, but he had no choice — and a week was plenty of time to find a way out of that mess.
He was even willing to humiliate himself if it meant escaping that bond with William.
The king sighed and gestured toward the door. "Mr. Traver, you may retire. A page is waiting outside to escort you to your quarters. If you need anything, speak with the chamberlain."
"Thank you, Your Majesty." The mage gave one last awkward bow and left the hall.
The prince turned to look at his father. "May I leave?"
"No, I'm not done yet."
"It's no use scolding me. Just let me go."
"Where were you this morning?"
"I was having sex!" Alex snapped. "I like going to brothels and letting men fuck me."
His father furrowed his brow, anger flashing briefly in his dark blue eyes. "I don't care who you spend your time with, but I will not tolerate you being late for appointments."
"If I tell you I didn't do it on purpose, will you believe me?"
"I would, if this were the first time you've neglected your duties."
"As if it'd change anything! Nothing I do is ever enough, especially not for you."
"Let it go."
With a tired sigh, the king sank into the throne and rested his cheek on his palm. For a few seconds he let his gaze wander over the frescoes, then returned it to Alex.
"You won't believe me, but I did it for your own good. Everything I do, I do for you, Alex."
"If that were true, you'd have accepted my choice."
"Nikolas is not suitable."
"He's my best friend and a great mage. Why wouldn't he be a good Court Mage? He's already an advisor!"
"That's exactly why." His father rubbed a hand over his eyes. "You need someone from outside the court. William's the only mage who isn't noble. The Crown Pact… it'll bind you for life. Even your very lives."
Alex flinched, a chill running down his spine. "What does that mean?"
"If you die, he dies too."
"You didn't tell me that! And what kind of insane ritual is this?"
"I told you, but as usual, you weren't listening."
It made no sense. He would never agree to such madness. "No. I won't bind myself to anyone."
His father looked at him as if he had said something incredibly foolish. "You have no choice. That's the duty of every monarch in Vellara."
"So he could kill me in my sleep!"
"He won't."
"And how can you be so sure?"
"Because William is reliable and a powerful mage. When you are king, he will be the only person you can trust."
This was a real pact with a demon. A death sentence.
And he understood why his father had chosen him. He and the mage were alike, with the same sharp, unsettling gaze. William was there to watch over him when the king could no longer.
He was merely a tool in his father's hands.
Alex had no intention of going along with that farce. "I will make you change your mind."
He descended the steps and crossed the hall into the corridor.
He looked around and spotted the mage near the stairway leading to the upper floor. William was standing still, looking up at a fresco. The valet, a few steps away, fidgeted with his hands.
"Hey, mage!"
The prince strode toward him, but as soon as he reached him, he tripped over something and fell to the ground.
He landed on something solid and warm. A faint scent of ink and paper brushed his nose.
He propped himself up with one hand and peered down. Beneath him, pressed between his body and the floor, was the mage, William.
His thin lips were pulled into an annoyed expression, the collar of his shirt left his pale, graceful neck exposed.
And, for a moment, Alex thought the mage might be one of the most beautiful men he had ever seen.