The Heir

Chapter 17: Information is Needed

I know I shouldn't do this put I'm posting two chapters in one day because the creative writer boost suddenly hit me so yay I guess. I have some big plans in mind, but I'm not going to share them yet, I want to see if there will be any more views/comments/votes and such. Have a nice day/evening!

I woke to the sound of the curtains being opened. I winced immediately, but found myself less hungover than I could have been. I had only managed half of the bottle of wine before I had given up, and now it was all tucked away under the bed.

"Little prince, I heard Nickolai call softly, tugging the comforter away from my face.

I turned my head, making a disgruntled sound about being wakened from my little cocoon.

I heard him sigh, "come on, Leander, get up."

My eyes flew open and I sat up rather quickly, my annoyance from last night coming back. "Since when do you call me by my actual name?"

He smirked. "I knew it would get you up, but perhaps you are right. I don't like your name."

I raised a brow. "Excuse me?"

"Has anyone ever given you a nickname? I know they are not popular in other kingdoms, but here they are almost expected."

I flopped back down on the pillows, throwing the comforter back over my head. "Whatever, let me go back to sleep."

"I must think of a nickname to use when you are angry with me."

I hummed, eyes closed again. "If you wish to diffuse my anger then shut up."

I could feel his grin as he pulled the entire blanket away, enfusing the cold air to my skin. I hissed and covered my eyes, cursing his name.

"Now, now, Leo, you have to get up."

Rolling my eyes and now truly awake, I turned on my side to look up at him. I had a remark planned about his stupidity, but when his words sunk in, all I could manage was - "Leo?"

He grinned and pulled me up by my shoulders to try and get me out. "Yes, now stop being grumpy and let's go."

"I don't like that nickname."

"Well there are certainly some for the bedroom that I could use instead. Would you prefer the term brat? I just know the duke will love to hear that."

I grumbled a string of expletives as I pulled myself out of the bed, stretching in the golden morning light.

I felt him come close to my back and suddenly his arms were around me, covering me in the warmth that had been stolen by the lack of blankets and I leaned into him.

"Stop," I whined, recalling my senses and pulling away. "I am mad at you."

"Perhaps, but I am ending that anger. Besides, I do not think you have stopped being angry with me since we first met."

I hummed in agreement and rubbed the sleep out of my eyes. "What are you even doing here? How did you get in? I placed a stack of books under the handle to the door of the secret entrance."

"Yes, about that, my rooms are undergoing their final alterations from when we were attacked, and I placed a lock on each side."

He rummaged through his pockets before pulling out a small key. "Here, this is for your door, and I had a copy made of mine," he pulled out another, although it was made of pure silver. "This one is to mine. I don't really care if you decide to enter in the night."

My eyebrows were raised as I accepted it. "What if I decide to smother you with your pillow?"

He smiled, eyes alight with challenge. "Well, I do certainly like a surprise."