The Prince’s Boy: 47

[ceciliatan]

(Continuing the weekly serial by Cecilia Tan! Need to start at the beginning? Click here.)

47: Kenet

Marksin could tell the moment he stepped into the tent that something had changed. I felt my own pulse pound in my ears as he sank to his knees with perfect grace in front of us. I felt like an unruly beast myself in comparison, but perhaps that was true. I was a barely broken-in yearling, while he was a prized war mount.

“Do you wish to see the rest of him?” the general asked me, as if I had not already seen all of him before. That was the thing, I suppose. Each time was a new time.

“Yes, Sir,” I said.

“Go on and take his shirt,” he urged in a low voice.

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