Nocturna (A Forgery of Magic #1)(30)

An embarrassed flush bloomed on Tiago’s face.

Luka’s eyebrows rose and with a moment of eye contact they were communicating as seamlessly as they always had.

Take him down, Alfie’s eyes said.

Naturally, Luka’s replied.

But Tiago beat Luka to the punch. “Prince Alfehr, it’s wonderful to see you back, safe and sound, but one must wonder,” Tiago said, cocking his head as if in thought. “If you have no future, then what will become of our beloved Castallan when you rule it?”

Alfie froze where he stood, hot anger pooling in his stomach as Tiago’s lips unfurled in a satisfied smirk.

At the age of five, all royals were taken to the royal diviner, where she would glimpse their future and speak of what greatness their lives would bring. Dezmin had been told that his legacy would be eternal, a sign that he was to become the king that their parents had hoped for. When Alfie’s mother took him to his own divining, he’d hoped to hear the diviner speak of a future of conquests, like the stories he’d been read. He feared that she would say his life would be full of cowardice or bereft of glory, a life his parents would not be proud of, but what she said was much worse.

“I cannot divine him,” the diviner had said, snuffing out Alfie’s hopes. “There is a piece missing, an important one. Without it I cannot see the prince’s future.”

How could his parents think he was the one to lead this kingdom when he didn’t even have a future to speak of? When he wasn’t whole.

If Tiago had thought of this, how many others were tittering about it behind their hands, wondering if Alfie’s rule would spell the end of their kingdom? A stunning wave of embarrassment twisted through Alfie as he sputtered for a response in the face of Tiago’s sneer.

Alfie was saved when Luka stepped forward, his narrowed eyes on Tiago. “You would do well to hold your maldito tongue. Like your prince said,” Luka uttered, reminding Tiago of his station, “you failed in the gambling dens; I wouldn’t press your luck with us either. Make yourself scarce, Tiago, like your inheritance.”

Tiago gaped at them, his face pinched tight with humiliation before he turned on his heel and walked away. Luka and Alfie looked at each other for a moment before bursting out laughing. But when the laughter died, Luka looked away, as if remembering that he was still angry.

“That doesn’t change anything, Prince Alfehr.” It was strange hearing his full name and title in Luka’s mouth.

Luka’s tone aside, Alfie’s heart lightened all the same. If Luka had defended him, then maybe they were closer to going back to the way things were. “You know me well enough to call me Alfie.”

Luka cut his eyes at him, his practiced smile faltering. “Do I?” Luka plucked a goblet of sangria from a passing servant’s tray.

“Yes,” Alfie insisted. Luka took a generous gulp of sangria. “Careful,” he said, his voice low. “You know you don’t do well with the sweet stuff.”

Luka raised his eyebrows before motioning for another servant to come his way. Luka downed his sangria goblet and handed the servant his empty glass before taking a fresh one.

“And you don’t do well with sneaking in and out of the palace with contraband,” Luka hissed over the lip of his glass. “But I’m not lecturing you now, am I?”

Alfie’s shadow moved away from Luka warily. “Luka—”

“What?” Luka went on quietly, his polite smile still on. “Are you afraid that if I drink too much I’ll tell everyone about your new hobby? How would I even phrase it?” Luka cocked his head and tapped his chin, as if he were thoughtfully contemplating. “I suppose I could start with: ‘Did you know that when everyone is asleep, Prince Alfie here gets a doorknob—’”

“Luka,” Alfie said, his voice snapping like a whip. He kept his face composed, a careful smile to match Luka’s. “I know you’re angry with me. You have every right to be.” Luka snorted. “We have to talk about it, but that time can’t be now.”

“I can’t promise I won’t kill you before then,” Luka muttered, sipping his sangria.

“You could,” Alfie said, hoping that Luka’s joke meant he was a little less angry. “But then you’d be left alone at this boring party.”

“Then I’ll kill you right afterward,” Luka quipped.

Alfie nodded at that. “We’ll compromise, then.”

Luka’s lips quirked up into a genuine smile, and Alfie couldn’t help but grin back. Maybe everything really would go back to normal soon. The queen walked toward them, the voluminous skirts of her tiered gown skimming the polished floor.

“And how fares the night for my favorite boys?” She stood between them and gripped them each by the shoulder. “It’s so nice to see you both together again, getting along.”

Luka stiffened at her words. He stepped away from her touch, and her smile wavered.

“It is nice,” Luka said, conjuring a smile so brittle that Alfie could spot the cracks splintering it. “Would you excuse me?” Luka said with a bow.

Mother meant well, Alfie knew, but it had been too soon to say something like that.

“Of course,” Queen Amada said, her eyes bright with concern.

She nodded at Alfie, silently telling him to follow as Luka made for the doors.