The Errant Prince by Sasha L. Miller

door, stifling his anxiety as he let Myron lead the way into the hallway. He could be rude, he could ignore people, and he didn't have to talk to anyone. "They're just shielded with a magic barrier to keep errant spells in."
    "So how do I learn it?" Myron asked. He stayed close to Tamsen as they walked, and Tamsen got a small thrill every time their arms brushed. "I assume trial and error like with the light spell is a bad idea."
    "Very bad," Tamsen agreed. He reached the end of the hallway leading out of the royal wing. A servant who had been polishing a vase saw him and almost immediately slipped down a side corridor. Tamsen scowled after her, wondering whether Stirling or Hartley had set the watch on him. Myron was watching him curiously, and Tamsen forced himself back to topic. "You start with shifting small objects. When I learned, the wizard yards had little wooden blocks that I used."
    "How many did you splinter?" Myron asked, giving him a sly grin that banished thoughts of spying servants from Tamsen's head. "So that I know what record to beat."
    Tamsen rolled his eyes. "Seven. And a half."
    "A half?" Myron asked skeptically. "How do you half-splinter something?"
    "It held together through the shift but fell apart after," Tamsen said. "There's three stages to shifting: deconstruction, shifting, and reconstruction. Splintering usually happens in the first or last stage. I splintered it in the middle, but it got through the deconstruction and reconstruction. The flaws in it only showed up at the end."
    "I don't really understand what you just said," Myron said, but he didn't seem too upset by that.
    "You'll pick it up." Tamsen hung a left, taking them through the major courtyard of the palace. The six buildings that made up the palace ringed the courtyard, and the wizards' practice yard was on the far side of the wing that housed the King's Wizards, opposite the royal wing. "Do you know anything about shifting at all?"
    "I looked into it a time or two. Shifting always seemed useful," Myron said, shrugging. "The books I found on the subject weren't very helpful, though. They were mostly theory, and contained plenty of warnings about how it could go wrong. I figured better safe than splintered and focused on other things."
    Like constructs . Tamsen swallowed those words, recalling all too vividly the way Myron had promised to show him the real reason he'd learned constructs. By Myron's grin, Tamsen wasn't hiding his thoughts very well.
    "You'll splinter the props more than seven times," Tamsen said, redirecting before Myron could say anything to make his blush worse.
    "Seven and a half," Myron corrected. He nudged Tamsen with his elbow. "You don't think I can handle it?"
    "You can handle it," Tamsen said. He was sure of that; Myron had every indication he'd be a great wizard if he weren't so lacking in training. "Just not without screwing up eight times first."
    "Wanna bet?" Myron asked, his grin going sly. "No cheating on the teaching like you did with the light."
    "Your guardsman is showing," Tamsen said. The King's Guards bet on everything possible, he swore. Myron only grinned at him, holding open the door to the wizard's wing. "Fine, stakes?" Tamsen hoped he didn't regret agreeing. There was every chance Myron would beat the seven-and-a-half mark.
    "Loser has to do one thing of the winner's choice," Myron said.
    "Oh, is that all?" Tamsen asked, startled into laughter when Myron started clucking at him like a chicken. "Fine, fine, but you'll regret it if I win."
    "I doubt it," Myron said, smiling that slow, wicked smile of his that made Tamsen wish he could drag Myron somewhere private and do something wicked to him in return. Tamsen couldn't remember the last time he'd been inclined to pursue his attraction to anyone, but something about Myron made it easy and fun in a way he hadn't experienced since… well, since Hartley, seven years ago.
    Myron opened the door for him on the side of the wizard's wing, letting