The Prince's Bargain by Shea K. M

Author:Shea, K. M. [Shea, K. M.]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: Fantasy, Romance, Young Adult, Paranormal
Amazon: B08CTPNQN4
Goodreads: 54587193
Published: 2020-07-24T07:00:00+00:00

12

Myth paused at the beautiful sound and turned in the direction it had come from.

Lady Tari and Princess Gwendafyn stood in the doorway together. Sius—Lady Tari’s giant snow cat—struggled to poke his furry head between them.

Lady Tari was dressed in loose elven robes and carried a sleeping baby, whereas Princess Gwendafyn wore a light set of leather armor, and had two swords strapped to her hips.

“My Princess Gwendafyn, Lady Tari!” Myth rocked to her feet and slowly bowed to each of them.

“Hello!” Lady Tari rocked her child, her smile bright and refreshing despite the late hour.

“Hello, Translator Mythlan.” Princess Gwendafyn’s silky bangs fanned across her forehead before she tucked them back. “She’s right, Arvel. You need to let her get back to her room and sleep. This has been a traumatic night. Making her stay up so you feel better about endangering her by not accepting guards earlier isn’t a very kind thing.”

Myth blinked in confusion. What is she saying? That couldn’t possibly be why he’s being so insistent on this. Given all the implications tonight brings I can’t believe the endangerment to me was his biggest regret.

“Fyn,” Arvel groaned.

“My Princess Gwendafyn has a proper point.” Lady Tari smiled down at her snow cat when it rubbed its head against her legs. “Which is why we have come.”

Myth frowned. “I beg your pardon?”

“I called for Tari so she can take Translator Mythlan to a temporary room in the palace tonight.” Sir Arion strode across the room, heading for the door, but Tari beat him to it and flitted gracefully across the remaining distance, leaning against her husband and kissing his temple. “I’d rather drop the news of tonight’s events upon the Translators’ Circle tomorrow so I can immediately use it for negotiations, as it will make them more likely to gratefully take guards than gloomily accept them.”

“I ran into Fyn on my way here, and I thought you might like the extra company. We’ll wait together while the palace staff pick out a room for you and get it cleaned.” Lady Tari smiled at Myth, her eyes glowing.

Myth carefully pondered the suggested plan.

Waiting until tomorrow would lessen the burden placed on the Translators’ Circle. I don’t want to bother them, and if I arrive with guards this late at night it won’t cause anything but an uproar. Yes, Sir Arion is right. It would be best not to disturb them tonight and to sleep in a borrowed room. Arvel can’t complain that it’s not safe, then, either.

“Could you have them find a room in the Calnorian royal wing?” Arvel asked, surprising her.

Myth made a scoffing noise. “That is entirely unnecessary.”

“I want you near me,” Arvel said.

Myth gave him a flat look. “There is no need. You aren’t going to experience a sudden, fierce need for a translation in the middle of the night.”

“I don’t care,” Arvel said. “I want you in the royal wing.”

Prince Benjimir studied his brother as if he had suddenly sprouted wings. “Funny,” he said. “I recall you being a pretty cheeky but easy-going brat.

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