Page 68 of The Prince's Sacrifice

“You’re not in charge of breakfast anymore,” Tor told him, and then kissed him on the cheek. “Thanks for the food, sweetheart.”

Pel couldn’t even be annoyed.

Beluna nudged Denil. “Den’ll cook, won’t you?”

Denil rolled his eyes but assented. He must have seen Pel’s curious look.

“We grew up living two houses away from one another. Merchant’s and scholar’s child, respectively.” He pointed at Beluna and then himself. “She likes to boss me around.”

Beluna shrugged. “His parents routinely got lost in their books. He needed guidance.”

“I’m married with a wife and child now,” Denil pointed out.

“So it’s even more important that he has guidance,” Beluna said without missing a beat.

They all laughed and managed to eat Pel’s food.

“I clearly need more opportunities to cook for myself,” Pel acknowledged as they packed up.

“We do tend to be spoiled by a whole kitchen of staff,” Tor conceded.

“Can you cook?” Pel inquired.

“Not really. I can reheat a bit better than this, though.” He winked at Pel, who rolled his eyes. “And I can supplement prepared food on a patrol or march, but even with the guard, we didn’t prepare a lot of our own meals. Varex is actually quite a good cook.”

Pel blinked at him. “Your brother? Really?”

Tor nodded, smiling the soft smile that came up occasionally when he was reminiscing but almost never when he talked about the High King in the present.

“He says it’s calming, that focusing on making sure the food came out right lets his mind relax. I never saw the appeal.”

Pel’s mind boggled a little at the notion of the High King cooking, but he supposed he was also just a person, at the end of the day. Pel would try to concentrate on that thought, since he was going to meet the man properly at the end of this journey,not just as a minor prince from Tond but as the man Tor wanted to marry.

Pel’s stomach roiled rebelliously, and now he was even less sure about that sausage. He blew out a breath and tried to push the thought from his mind. They had a week or so before they were going to reach Nexa. He didnothave to think about this yet.

No one wanted to linger over the meal, so they soon had the fire out and everything packed up. They were back in the boats and on their way not long after the sun had properly risen. Denil was in the boat with the two of them today, indicating with a wink that he thought Beluna and Cavun should have a boat to themselves.

They rowed hard, Pel’s muscles aching with the strain. (He had strong arms, honed from years of archery, but it turned out, rowing didn’t use all the same muscles.) By early afternoon, they finally reached the Great River, and Pel wasn’t the only one who heaved a sigh of relief when the swiftly moving water began to work for them, sweeping them south.

With the help of the current, they just managed to pass beyond Tond as the sun was setting. Tor insisted they spend the night on the Bessar side of the river.

Pel laughed when he realized that Tor was avoiding Filon just because he didn’t want even a chance of having to deal with King Nostex.

“I’m telling you,” Tor said, looking aggravated, “you’re altogether lucky if he never noticed you. I’d think it was the greatest blessing if he didn’t notice me. Every time I go there—every time—I get a tour of the entire castle and every artifact it contains. Every single trophy and memorial item from the war and from before the war. All the art—because he doesn’t appreciate art that much, you understand, but his dear, departed wife did—and the garden—because while he doesn’t appreciateplants, his darling daughter does.Every time. It’s like he’s in love with the sound of his own voice.”

Pel couldn’t help but laugh. “I feel like it might be worth it just to see the look on your face.”

“Bite your tongue,” Tor admonished.

Pel just kept laughing. He didn’t think he’d ever heard Tor whine so much.

“All right, all right, we’ll stay on the east bank, you big baby,” Pel promised.

“Just you wait,” Tor said, pointing at him. “Soon enough, you’re going to have to deal with him, too, and then the joke will be on you.”

Despite the prophesied doom, Pel couldn’t help the silly smile that came to his face at this matter-of-fact linking of them together in the future. As unappealing as King Nostex sounded as a host, that future sounded pretty awesome. (Also, knowing how Tor felt about High Queen Fernila, Pel had to wonder if King Nostex was really that bad. Tor definitely wasn’t impartial. Besides, Pel would be interested in learning more about Filon’s history. Although they’d visited Filon a few times, it had been years. Pel’s father wasn’t particularly sociable, and they hadn’t spent much time in any of the other realms.)

Of course, before they achieved that future, they would need to convince High King Varex—and before they did that, they needed to sort out what had happened in the mountain. Pel had always worried about his people, but this was a step further than that.