The Errant Prince Read Online Free

slightly, though he still seemed to be expecting a trap. "How do you mean?"
    "What?" Myron paused in the act of gathering the next bundle, then realized 'a spell' could mean a few different things. "Oh, I mean, teach me a new spell."
    Tamsen smiled and nodded once, and Myron returned the smile easily. Smiling softened Tamsen's face, made him appear more open, more comfortable in his skin. It was a good look on him. Tamsen disappeared outside, leaving Myron alone inside his cottage.
    Myron glanced around curiously, gawking more openly without Tamsen to supervise. There were lots of bundles of herbs hanging from the ceiling, and Myron would bet they were how Tamsen sustained himself. The ones used for healing in particular had to net Tamsen a pretty penny. Even if the idea of a prince farming for herbs and spices seemed utterly ridiculous.
    That it seemed ridiculous was likely one of the reasons Tamsen stayed out of sight so easily. Much like Myron when he'd started his search, he didn't doubt most of the other King's Guard and the King's Wizards expected something wholly different from what Tamsen was actually up to.
    Myron still didn't have anything resembling a plan, but he was inside Tamsen's cottage, and it didn't seem like Tamsen was trying too hard to get rid of him. That was progress, and Myron was happy to go with it. He spent the rest of the morning making bundles under Tamsen's direction while Tamsen disappeared outside in the pursuit of collecting more plants.
    Tamsen fed him as the afternoon approached, some leftover porridge and nearly stale bread. Myron would have been offended, except Tamsen ate the same, and it was still leagues better than the travel fare on which Myron had been subsisting for the last month.
    He finished the last of the bundles after lunch, with Tamsen's assistance. Tamsen had a deft, quick touch, binding the herbs together with an ease borne of long practice. He'd been away from the palace for seven years, though; it was little surprise he was well-practiced at his chosen profession. Had he grown herbs everywhere he'd hidden? Or was that profession particular to this hideaway?
    "How tall are you?" Tamsen asked, breaking into Myron's thoughts. He was staring at the ceiling thoughtfully.
    "Not tall enough to hang those without standing on something," Myron said. He was shorter than Tamsen, though not by much.
    "Are you even tall enough to be a proper soldier?" Tamsen asked, eyeing Myron critically. He was trying to be irritating, so Myron didn't take the insult to heart.
    "Who said I was a proper soldier?" Myron asked, giving Tamsen a wide grin. Tamsen scowled at him, but Myron paid that no mind. So far, Tamsen was turning out to be all bark and no bite. Myron could deal with that. Standing, Myron surveyed the ceiling.
    Several support beams crossed the space, running both the width and the length of the cottage. The bundles of herbs were mostly slung over the beams, though here and there they hung from a hook or other protrusion instead.
    "If you're not a proper soldier, what are you?" Tamsen asked, huffing impatiently. Myron would wager he didn't appreciate being ignored. He pointed to the corner behind Myron, opposite where the back door was. The bundles in that part of the room were sparser, with big gaps between them. "Hang them there. Stand on your chair, and I'll hand them up."
    "Obviously an improper soldier," Myron replied cheerfully. He moved his chair over to the corner Tamsen had indicated, pleased to see he'd elicited another flush. Tamsen was scowling at him as he draped the bundles of herbs by their connecting twine over his arm.
    "I'm sure Stirling would be happy to hear that," Tamsen said. He followed Myron over to the corner, looking faintly disgruntled when Myron hopped up on the chair gracefully.
    "You'll have to go back to inform him of that," Myron said, slanting Tamsen a smile. "Though I don't doubt he's already aware."
    "Space them so there's plenty of room for air to