The prince’s chambers were a disaster.

  Empty wine bottles littered the floor, forgotten plates of half-eaten food sat abandoned on the tea table and sofa, and the rich smell of spilled liquor clung to the air like an unwelcome guest. Celestio stepped cautiously inside, his sharp eyes sweeping over the scene with disapproval. He had seen something similar to this a few times before, but that didn’t make it any less exasperating.

  He focused on the small victories – no one seemed to be in the room apart from Edess.

  The heavy curtains were still drawn shut, protecting the room from the morning sun. From the massive bed on the right of the room came a muffled groan, followed by the sound of someone shifting beneath the tangled mass of blankets.

  Celestio crossed the room with measured steps, placing the basin of heated water onto the tea table, and he yanked the curtains open with a sharp tug. Sunlight poured into the room, illuminating the chaos and drawing a louder groan from the figure in the bed. He unlocked the windows and pushed them open, the scents from the courtyard below quickly clearing out some of the stale odors.

  “Damn it, Celes,” Edess muttered, his voice hoarse as he buried his head beneath a pillow. “What time is it?”

  “It’s morning,” Celestio said simply, his tone clipped. “And you have responsibilities, Your Highness. You can’t spend all day wallowing in the aftermath of your indulgences.”

  The prince peeked out from beneath the pillow, squinting at Celestio with bloodshot eyes. His usually regal features were marred by dark circles under his eyes, clammy skin, and sweat on his forehead. He looked more like a wayward nobleman after a night of carousing than the ruler of the kingdom.

  “I feel like death,” Edess groaned, flopping back onto his bed. “I need someone to take my mind off of this misery.”

  Celestio raised an eyebrow, crossing his arms over his chest.

  “Don’t look at me like that,” the prince whined. “My head hurts so much, Celes.”

  “And whose fault is that?”

  The prince rolled away, holding his blankets close around him. “I should have brought one of the Omegas back with me,” he muttered.

  Celestio pinched the bridge of his nose. “I understand that being an adult brings the desire to participate in… certain activities,” he said delicately. “But you cannot throw caution to the wind like that. Bringing anyone you barely know into your chambers is absolutely unacceptable.”

  Edess turned his head to look at him, his lips curving into a petulant pout and his eyes struggling to focus. “Why not? I like my own bed, and an Omega would know exactly how to handle me. They would pamper me, spoil me – or would you be jealous?”

  Celestio stared at him.

  The prince scowled, his pout deepening. “You’re no fun,” he muttered, but there was no real heat in his words.

  “I’m not here to be fun,” Celestio replied, stepping closer to the bed. “I’m here to make sure you don’t run this kingdom into the ground, and that none of the nobles think they can take any power from you in your altered state.”

  With a resigned sigh, Celestio picked up the small basin of water and moved it to Edess’s bedside table, dipping a washcloth in it and pressing it to the prince’s forehead. Edess flinched at the light pressure but didn’t protest, his eyes slipping shut as Celestio methodically dabbed at his face.

  “You’re lucky I’m here to clean up after you, Edy,” Celestio gently scolded him. “What were you thinking last night? Even if it was your birthday, you have a kingdom to run, and you were out there drinking yourself into oblivion.”

  Edess groaned, flinging an arm over his face. “I was celebrating,” he muttered. “Trying to. But you weren’t there.”

  Celestio hesitated for the briefest of seconds before resuming his task, moving the washcloth behind the prince’s ears. “I had other matters to attend to,” he said.

  The prince peeked at him from beneath his arm, his expression a mix of irritation and disappointment. “You could have at least stopped by,” he grumbled. “It wasn’t the same without you. I really wanted you to be there.”

  Celestio avoided his gaze, focusing instead on wringing and re-wetting the cloth. “You don’t need me to hold your hand, Edy,” he said. “You’re perfectly capable of entertaining yourself.”

  The prince let out a humorless laugh. “But I want you entertain me. And to hold my hand.”

  Unlawfully taken from Royal Road, this story should be reported if seen on Amazon.

  Celestio sighed and said bluntly, “You’re hungover and feeling sorry for yourself. It’s not a good look for a future king. Is your nose even working properly after breathing in all of those pheromones? Drink some water, and I’ll have the servants make you something to eat. You have meetings this afternoon before some of the nobles depart and I expect you to be presentable.”

  The prince groaned again, but there was a faint note of gratitude in his voice as he muttered, “You’re relentless, Celestio. I don’t know how you put up with me.”

  “You know why I do,” Celestio replied simply, and he smacked the young prince’s shoulder. “Now sit up. Get yourself ready for tea and toast.”

  Edess obeyed his advisor with a grumble, propping himself up against the headboard. He watched Celestio stand, his earlier irritation fading into something quieter. “You’re the only one who insists on telling me the truth, you know,” he said. “Everyone else just tells me what they think I want to hear.”

  “Do you want people telling you things you don’t want to hear?”

  He shrugged. “I suppose not. I like that you’re the only one who does.”

  Celestio paused, his hands resting on the edge of small washbasin. “That’s because I’m not like everyone else,” he said. “And you would do well to remember that.”

  Edess smiled, closing his eyes and resting his head against the headboard. “How could I not?”

  Celestio turned toward the door, his mind already shifting to the next task on his endless list of responsibilities. But as he stepped out into the hallway, he couldn’t shake the lingering weight of the prince’s words. He hadn’t seemed to notice the scent of the Alpha on Celestio’s body; hopefully the morning bath had wiped most of Sabas’s pheromones off of him. But maybe – hopefully – a little still remained.

  Similarly to Prince Edess’s chambers, the banquet hall was a shadow of its usual self.

  While it had been a glittering spectacle of laughter, music, and excess the night before, now it was a battlefield of overturned chairs, spilled wine, and crumpled tablecloths. The smell of stale alcohol lingered in the air, mingling with the scent of wax from the melted candles stuck in their holders and the pheromones of frustrated Alphas. Servants moved sluggishly through the wreckage, their faces pale with exhaustion as they swept up broken glass and gathered discarded plates.

  Celestio stood at the entrance, his sharp eyes taking in the scene. He hadn’t intended for the prince and his guests to leave so much chaos in their wake for others to clean up. But Celestio couldn’t let his annoyance show in front of the other staff. Instead, he rolled up his sleeves with quiet resolve and stepped into the room.

  “Good morning,” he said briskly, addressing the nearest cluster of servants. His voice was calm but firm, cutting through the haze of fatigue that hung over them. “One of you, go prepare tea and breakfast for His Highness – he’s awake and nursing a hangover. The rest of us – I see we have our work cut out. Let’s focus on gathering the gifts first. We will deliver them to His Highness’s chambers once cleanup is finished.”

  The servants nodded, some looking relieved to have clear instructions from the advisor, and scattered to begin their tasks. Celestio followed suit, moving methodically through the hall as he collected the ornate boxes and parcels that had been left on tables or piled in corners. Most were wrapped in fine silks and ribbons, their contents no doubt as extravagant as their exteriors. Jewelry, rare wines, imported spices – tributes from nobles and merchants eager to curry favor with the prince. He would have to consult his ledger later to match each gift to its giver so Edess could properly thank his guests.

  Celestio paused as he picked up a particularly large parcel, its weight pulling at his arms. He glanced at the tag attached to it and noted the sender’s name with a sigh. Another noble desperately seeking to outdo their rivals. He set the gift aside with the others and straightened, brushing a stray hair from his face.

  The work was tedious but familiar. Celestio found the rhythm to it, his mind half-focused on the task at hand while the other half wandered. His thoughts drifted to Sabas – his scent, his touch, the way he had smiled that morning, concerned that he had hurt Celestio’s scent glands. Celestio shook his head, forcing himself to refocus.

  By the time the gifts had all been gathered onto a single table and the hall was somewhat presentable, the sun had risen high in the sky, its light streaming through the tall windows and illuminating the remnants of the previous night’s revelry. Celestio dusted off his hands and gave the room one last glance, satisfied that the servants could handle the rest. He found a dining cart and piled some of the gifts as high as he could onto it, making sure to include all of the wine. It was the last thing Edess needed right now, but he didn’t want to risk a guest or servant pilfering a bottle.

  The halls of the castle were still unusually quiet, most of the occupants recovering from the night before. Celestio pushed the cart along the polished stone floor, his footsteps echoing softly in the stillness. He couldn’t deny that he was grateful to lean his weight onto the cart, the exertion from the previous night beginning to catch up to him. He was halfway to the prince’s chambers when a voice called out behind him.

  “Sir Celestio.”

  He stopped, turning to see one of the castle guards striding toward him. The man’s armor gleamed dully and his expression was serious but not urgent.

  “There is a merchant here to see His Highness,” the guard said, inclining his head. “He arrived early this morning and has requested an audience.”

  Celestio sighed, the weight of the morning’s labor settling heavier on his shoulders. “Of course he has,” he muttered under his breath. He glanced at the cart of gifts, debating whether to leave it behind, but decided against it. Better to keep the items in his possession than risk them being tampered with by curious hands.

  “Is it Eligius?” he asked the guard.

  “Yes, sir.”

  “Where is he now?”

  “In the receiving hall. Shall I escort you?”

  “No need,” Celestio said, giving the man a dismissive nod. “I will handle it.”

  The guard stepped aside and Celestio adjusted his grip on the cart before continuing down the hall. His steps were slightly quicker now, his mind already racing. Eligius was a seasoned merchant, having been a frequent visitor to Soura since Celestio was a child. The merchant had been sharp from his first visit to the castle, offering Celestio sweets from the western coast of the continent and earning the now-advisor’s lifelong favor. Eligius was supposed to have arrived yesterday at the latest, though Celestio was sure he would have a good reason for his absence.