Private Dicks by Samantha M. Derr

Author:Samantha M. Derr
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: M/M romance, contemporary, paranormal, short stories, anthology
Publisher: Less Than Three Press
Published: 2012-10-23T16:00:00+00:00

CASE 05: The Royal Inquisitor

INVESTIGATOR: Megan Derr

It was raining when he arrived, a cold autumn rain that felt as though it were a moment away from turning into ice. Esmour ignored it as best he was able, guiding his horse carefully through the dark streets toward the dull torchlight of the castle at the top of the hill. His breath misted in the air, barely visible in the moonlight that was all he had to guide his way.

Stifling a sigh as he reached the dark stone castle, he lifted a hand in greeting to the guards walking the battlements. As he approached the outer curtain, the portcullis was raised to let him pass.

Esmour tugged on the hood of his cloak, drawing it further down over his face. Torchlight glinted off the thick, wide, silver cuffs on his wrists. He let his hands fall back into the folds of his cloak, gripping the reins as he crossed the ward. Dismounting smoothly, feet splashing in the muddy water covering the stones of the ward, he gave the reins to a page that came running out to take his horse off to the stables.

Inside the keep, the great hall was filled with grunts and snores and snuffles of all the servants and soldiers sleeping there. It already smelled of too many people and too few baths, a prelude to the stench that would set in when winter arrived and it was too cold to do much of anything past bare necessities.

Though grateful he would not be stuck there serving the king's whim, Esmour dreaded to think where he was being sent that he was being called to duty in the dead of night. His spurs jangled through the keep, startling several people awake, but they fell immediately back to sleep as they registered the sound as that of a knight. When he reached the king's solar, the guard at the door reached for his sword, but then the dim torchlight revealed the cuffs on Esmour's wrists and the guard relaxed. Curiosity overtook caution as he eyed Esmour, but he remained silent, for which Esmour was grateful.

Walking past the guard, Esmour entered the king's solar when the guard opened the door. The guard closed it sharply behind him, and the finality of it seemed to punctuate Esmour's own feelings about being there. He approached the fire, spurs cutting the silence with a steady, even jangle, but stopped abruptly when he realized it was not the king sitting before the fire. It was Prince Teigh, youngest son of the king and Chief Royal Inquisitor.

Esmour felt suddenly sick. Teigh, sitting before the fire, looked up. The light of the flickering flames caught his hair and made it glow like dying embers. His eyes appeared black, but Esmour knew they were a brilliant green. You have such beautiful eyes, like emeralds. He swallowed his dismay and forced his steps to resume, fighting the urge to turn and run with every fiber of his being.

He knelt before Teigh and bowed his head low.

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