Loving the Forbidden Prince

ETAN

He'd grabbed both their bags and swung them over his shoulder, then stopped at the small gate in the hedgerow to watch her speak to her Knight, resenting every second she was away from him, if he was honest. But Borsche joined him, pushed him inside the gate and around the corner, so he could stand watch as he'd intended to do.

"What are you doing?" he hissed when Borsche shoved him back and around, away from his view of his wife. 

His wife!

"Teaching you some manners," Borsche growled. "I understand your eagerness, Etan, but remember, Falek has been her protector since she was a child. With her parents not here, it falls to him to make sure she is… watched over."

"I will watch over her!" Etan snapped. 

"Then, watch over her by allowing her a moment with the man who kept her safe until you could do so!" Borsche hissed. "Besides, I wanted to talk to you, so this is an opportunity."

"You already said your piece and I listened," Etan scowled, trying to look beyond Borsche, who blocked him from the gate, so he couldn't see past it or around the hedges that were taller than his head. 

"I said my piece about you. Now I think it's time to say my piece about her," Borsche muttered. "It never occurred to me that she comes to this without any feminine advice or support. It isn't what I would choose if she were my daughter—and it is going to fall to you to ensure that she is given the advice and space that she needs."

"It would have fallen to me anyway," Etan pointed out. 

Borsche gave him a look. "You know what I mean. Falek is too uptight, and I am not close enough to her to give her guidance on something like this. She will need you to make it easy for her to ask questions, and to ensure that she is… ready when the time comes."

Etan snorted. "That won't be a problem."

Borsche shoved him in the shoulder until he almost dropped the bags. His man's eyes flashed. "You arrogant little prick!"

"No! Borsche! I just meant… I just meant we have learned enough of each other that I already know… how to ensure she is… enjoying herself. And Ayleth is never hesitant to ask questions, I assure you." Etan's body stiffened as his mind filtered back through the many, many questions she had asked—and the requests she'd made.

Had it truly only been two weeks?

In some ways it seemed they had known each other a lifetime. But in others… Etan swallowed. "I promise you, no one is more invested in ensuring she does not regret this, than I."

"If 'not regretting' is your bar, you may have set it a little low," Borsche said dryly.

Etan shot him a look. "I am being discreet!"

"I know, I know." Borsche put a hand to his shoulder and held his frustrated gaze. Etan wanted to walk away from him, wanted to walk out there and tear Ayleth away from Falek and carry her into the cottage, but he knew that he would not. And he knew that Borsche was worth listening to. Even if he was the most irritating man on the continent.

"I know you can handle yourself, and I know she trusts you. You two will be fine," Borsche said. "But for all that is holy, Etan, take it slowly—and check in with her. Always. Not only at the beginning. Not only at the end. Give her a moment to tell you if she is tense, or uncertain—or simply not enjoying herself. Do not look back on this night with regret because you allowed yourself to get… over-excited."

Etan shifted the weight of the bags on his shoulder. "Do you truly think I would rush her? Not care for her wellbeing?"

"No, I think in the rush of love and desire it can be easy to convince ourselves of what we want to be true. Be willing to be contradicted. If you are, you will be the best lover she has ever had."

"I am the only lover she has ever had."

"Again, you're setting the bar too low," Borsche chuckled.

Etan rolled his eyes, but leaned into the grip Borsche had on his shoulder. "Thank you," he said quietly a moment later, when Borsche had finished laughing. "I… thank you for caring about her, apart from me."

Borsche shrugged. "She's everything I ever prayed you would find, and more," he said simply. "Now as long as you don't mess this up, we'll look back on this fondly later."

"And if I do?" Etan challenged, not really seriously.

"If you do, I will kick your ass all the way back home, Lord Summit," Borsche said through his teeth. "That girl is a treasure and if you don't make this good for her, you will be stealing something she has anticipated her entire life!"

The caution was sharper, more intense than Etan had anticipated. He blinked. Swallowed. Looked back over his shoulder towards where he knew she was. "I hadn't… thought about it like that."

"Well, do," Borsche muttered. "Your choices are to give her a gift tonight, or to steal something from her that can never be taken back. You treat that with the respect it deserves. But… also have fun," he winked.

Etan opened his mouth to make a cutting jab at Borsche about his own limited experience—given that he'd never married—when the gate behind him creaked and he whirled around to find Ayleth standing here, tiny strands of her hair floating around her face, eyes sparkling and cheeks pink.

Everything else flew out of his head as he trotted back to her and took her hand. "Are you…"

"Let's go inside," she said quietly. 

Etan tucked her arm under his, hoisted the bags on the other shoulder, and began to lead her across the small lawn towards the front door. He could feel the eyes of the two men on their backs as they stepped inside, but when they passed over the threshold, everything else melted away. 

The small, stone cottage was all one room, with a half-wall separating the bed and living space, from the kitchen and bathing areas.

Where they stood, the bed area was one side, and the living to the other—with a stone fireplace, thick chairs, and a small shelf of books. The bed was large, sized for a warrior, and Etan's heart jumped when he saw it. 

Then he blinked. He looked down at Ayleth who stood, open mouthed, beaming. 

"This is perfect," she said, stepping inside, pulling him with her. "Our own little home for the night."

Then she turned to face him and her smile dropped as their eyes caught. "Etan, what's wrong? Why do you look so serious? Don't you like it?"

"I love it," he said simply. "And my heart is full. I'm only… overwhelmed."

She nodded. "Me as well."

Etan dropped the bags to the floor and took a deep breath. He was about to suggest they get a drink when she stepped up to him, wrapped her arms around his waist, and craned her neck back to meet his eyes.

He combed his fingers through her hair from her temples down her back, over and over again.

She shivered. "That feels lovely," she whispered. 

"No matter what, Ayleth, if I do anything to you, ever—tonight, tomorrow, ten years from now—that does not make you shiver like that, you tell me."

"I will."

"Promise?"

"I promise."

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