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A fter four days, Mother finally allowed Yarif visitors. Draylon sat in a chair by the bed when Niam entered the room.

“Your Majesty.” Yarif struggled a moment to rise, finally collapsing back onto the bed.

A warning glance from Mother said as good as words, Don’t comment on his appearance.

Niam put up a staying hand toward the pale man lying on the bed, doing his best to follow his mother’s unspoken command.

No wonder she had allowed no one into this room until now.

Niam fought to keep his voice calm. His outrage at Yarif’s condition wouldn’t calm the victim.

“No, you must call me Niam or cousin in private.” He recalled a pleasant memory of a chubby-cheeked toddler.

“I believe the last time we met you referred to me as ‘Neem.’”

Niam searched Yarif’s face, finding traces of the chubby-cheeked boy he’d once been. Shadows underscored his eyes, and his cheekbones stood out over hollow cheeks. Niam fought not to flinch at his cousin’s blatant mistreatment. He’d love to find the perpetrators. Oh, the pain he’d inflict .

“I don’t remember that,” Yarif said, voice surprisingly strong for someone who appeared so physically weak. His spirit survived. Good.

Niam drew closer, ignoring Draylon’s attempt to put himself between Yarif and potential danger. Danger? Hah! Niam had nothing but love for his cousin, though the political world of Draylon’s youth might not have provided proper examples of familial affection.

“How could you remember?” Niam asked. “You were just a babe in arms. I’m very sorry Mother and I couldn’t be an active part of your life, but as it was, even while your mother lived, our visits were clandestine because of our tenuous relationship with the empire.

Once she passed, your father forbade any contact.

” May the bastard suffer in the afterlife.

“I’m sorry as well. Would you mind telling me what I missed while I was sleeping? About yourself?”

After all he’d been through, Yarif wanted to know about someone else. Niam’s esteem for his cousin grew.

Draylon headed for the door. Niam and Yarif said as one, “Stay.”

Draylon obeyed, sitting in a chair farther from the bed than the chair Niam had claimed. Both men would be more comfortable watching over the other while Niam visited. Even without hearing their murmured reunion, Niam couldn’t deny the obvious regard these two men held for each other.

What could Niam say? He longed to find out about Yarif’s abduction, but not at the price of wearing him out.

How much did he already know? Mother had to have been filling his head with tales of the family.

“Well, I grew up here in the mountains. My father was a just king. I hope to live up to his legacy.”

“I don’t remember much about those times.” Yarif twisted his hands together in his lap, keeping his eyes firmly trained on the action.

Niam nodded, his lips drawn into a thin line at his cousin’s discomfort. He recalled a shy child hiding his face in his mother’s hair, then peeking out again. After several moments of playing coy, he’d finally grinned, displaying two bottom teeth.

On the next visit, he’d held out a toy soldier for Niam’s inspection.

“Come pway, Neem. Pway.” They spent the afternoon playing toy soldiers while their mothers talked.

Yarif put the longing in Niam’s heart for children of his own, which was the reason he’d taken Alyss as his queen consort, resulting in Quillan and Uri’s arrival.

Gods, Niam missed the boys. What would they think of these visitors?

Niam would do anything to make things right for his cousin.

How old was Yarif? Early twenties? Nearly the same age as when Niam became king.

“I was nineteen when my father died. I took the throne and married the daughter of a noble house. She gave me two sons, Quillan and Uri. We ended the marriage, and she returned home to marry her lover.” Niam couldn’t deny Alyss her love, though he’d yet to find such a connection himself.

Yarif’s mouth dropped open. “What? ”

Niam shrugged, not sparing a glance to gauge Draylon’s reaction. Mother, no doubt, saw all. “I needed heirs; her father wanted status. We became and still are friends. She visits the boys often.”

Yarif looked up, a spark of excitement in his eyes. “Where are they? Can I see them?”

“Unfortunately, no. They couldn’t make this trip because of their studies, but I hope one day you can.” Was Yarif even aware of how much family he had?

“Why have you never remarried?”

Most would consider the question rude, but there was no telling what herbs went into Yarif’s healing potions. Some of the more common ones took a toll on one’s manners. “I now have heirs, so there is no need. My mother fills the role of lady of the castle.”

“That sounds lonely.” Yarif had recently lost his father and brother. Yes, he’d know about loneliness.

Well, he wasn’t alone now. Niam answered honestly.

“I take lovers occasionally, but I must be careful, or ambitious mothers will start scheming.” His last lover had scarcely left the bed before demanding Niam grant him a title.

One enterprising woman tried repeatedly to trap him in a compromising situation, though he’d never touched her.

Each such experience wounded him more. Wasn’t he good enough as Niam the man, not Niam the king?

Best to guard his heart and reputation. Loneliness beat an arranged marriage to someone he could never love.

Yarif chuckled, pulling Niam from dark thoughts. “Yes, you wouldn’t want some social climbers throwing daughters your way. ”

Niam managed a laugh for the sake of his young cousin, who shouldn’t be burdened with Niam’s issues. If he wanted to be honest… “It’s not only daughters I have to worry about.”

“Oh?”

“Yes. Oh. So no, I’m not lonely. Soon I hope to have a dear friend,” — he coughed “cousin,” into his fist — “to visit.” Niam’s voice took on a wistful quality.

“It’s been so long since I’ve been out of the kingdom.

I’d like to see all the empire's territories, to once more view the oceans from flat land instead of a cliff. Maybe reconnect with our other cousins. Have you seen any of them?”

Yarif shook his head. “Sadly, no. Once Mother died, Father cut all ties with her family. Not by any dramatic act. He just simply stopped inviting them or accepting invitations.”

“I see. He not only cut ties with family, but potential allies. Do you know the first step if you wish to control someone?” A lesson Niam learned the hard way from a former advisor.

“No.”

“You cut them off from anyone who might intervene, anyone the person listens to.” Niam fought not to growl. Yarif didn’t need to know of the treachery of Niam’s former mentor. "The controller deprives the victim of loving guidance and then manipulates the victim until he or she becomes a puppet."

Yarif scrunched his brow, head tipped to the side. “What are you saying?”

“I’m saying that I wonder if your dear emperor had a hand in your father’s fate. I’m told your father hadn’t gone to court in the past few years. If King Lleval conspired with another in his scheme, the idea didn’t come from me.”

The shock on Draylon’s face spoke volumes. “Yarif, you said your father didn’t include you in any plans.”

“No, he didn’t. So, if this is true, I’d no way to know about it.”

How awful not to trust anyone. Then again, how many people did Niam truly put faith in?

He hid his balled fist in the fold of his tunic.

“Unlike King Lleval, I keep up with gossip. I’m also not afraid to admit freely that I have spies in other lands.

” He shrugged. “Most, I call uncles, aunts, and cousins, but you get the idea.

I also know the emperor has spies in Delletina. Perhaps in my household.

“But let us not talk of such things now, cousin.” Niam crossed an ankle over his knee in a very un-regal pose. “I’d like to hear about you. I understand you’ve recently wed….”

Niam sat before the fire in Rufe’s room, a small table between them, mulling over his meeting with his cousin and Draylon and laying the groundwork for future dealings. They were both known to Rufe. While Niam could use this time to glean information, he’d rather simply enjoy the man’s company.

Niam moved his piece on the gameboard with a smile. “You were telling me about the battle in Renvalle. ”

Rufe ran a hand over his newly shaven chin, studying the board. He’d been beautiful while unkempt, in a rugged way. Cleaned up? Absolutely stunning. “The Renvallian military wasn’t equipped to deal with Cormiran troops. The battle ended quickly.”

“The king and his heir?” Many men would gloat over defeating a king. Rufe didn’t.

“The king hid behind his people. At least his heir fought with honor.”

“Did you defeat them personally?” Maybe Niam would be better off not knowing, but something twisted in his mind demanded to know who killed Yarif’s kin.

Rufe shook his head. “I wasn’t there at the time.”

“I see.”

“I encountered Yarif later, determined to protect his younger siblings.” Rufe grinned. “There he was, a little princeling with what most soldiers wouldn’t class as a sword. He kept them at bay. I’ve got to admit, he impressed me.”

An image came to mind of how Yarif must’ve appeared before torture cast shadows on his features. “Yet, he was forced into a marriage with the emperor’s son.”

Rufe’s smile fell. “Yes. I attended. Even then, I saw the advantages of the match. Yarif had the people’s hearts.

Draylon had the wherewithal to maintain peace.

Yarif knew how to run the kingdom. It was also the best way to protect Yarif’s younger brother and sister.

The emperor would have taken them away.”

“Most of my people view Cormirans as brutes.” For good reason, if the emperor used children against their families .

Rufe glanced up then. “Draylon wouldn’t have hurt him. I knew that. And I doubt Yarif would have let him. Like I said, I think they’re well-matched. You didn’t see him, Ned. Draylon was a man possessed. He’d stop at nothing to get Yarif back. Then to see what Illa did.”

What would Rufe say if prodded to reveal more of Draylon and Yarif’s personal lives? “I’ve seen them together. They genuinely seem to care for each other.”

Rufe returned his attention to the game. His novice mistake showed his distraction. He quietly murmured, “I hope someone looks at me that way one day.”

Niam did, too. Such maudlin thoughts for what could never be. He took advantage of Rufe’s distraction with his next move. “I believe I have you at a disadvantage.”

Rufe reared back, eyes wide. “You haven’t left me with many openings. Are you sure you taught me all the rules?”

“Yes. Your goddess must reach the vineyard to bestow her blessings.”

“You’ve put a storm in her way.”

“How can you counteract a storm?” How indeed, for Niam sensed one brewing on the horizon. He spotted two advantageous moves.

“A-ha!” Rufe exchanged the piece representing the storm for one representing the sun and then moved his goddess to her vineyard.

“Nicely played.” Niam gathered the pieces to place into the cloth bag he used to store the game. He really must be going. Mother wouldn’t believe his excuse that he still needed more time to interrogate Rufe, but Niam enjoyed his company.

In time, would Rufe trust Niam enough to confide how he earned the traitor’s tattoo or who his parents were? A niggling voice reminded Niam he’d yet to tell Rufe of his own parentage. So far, Draylon didn’t appear to have let the truth slip.

“Must you go, Ned?”

The name brought Niam up short. For all he’d learned about Rufe, Niam hadn’t shared much about his true self except for his love of riding and games—two things his position deprived him of on most occasions. “I’m afraid I must.”

“Will you come back tomorrow?”

“If I can.” That was as much of a promise as Niam could make.

Rufe stood when Niam did, escorting him toward the door. Rufe placed a hand against the door, angling his body close enough to Niam’s to make the invitation clear, but not close enough to make Niam feel trapped. “I enjoy our time together.”

“As do I.”

Rufe leaned in, but Niam ducked. As much as he wanted to, he couldn’t indulge in a kiss. Not here. Not now. And certainly not while Rufe believed him to be someone else.

Mother exited Yarif’s room, joining Niam in the hallway, a mischievous smile playing over her lips.

“Your cousin reminds me of a younger you,” she said, meeting Niam’s gaze.

She studied him, starting with his face and working her way lower to the game set in his hands.

Her eyebrows lifted. “I see you’ve been spending more time with our captain.

” She managed a lot of innuendo in her words, but asked no direct questions.

“I enjoy his company,” was all Niam allowed.

“Have you even told him who you are?”

The guilt had to have shown on his face.

He’d never hidden his expressions well from his mother.

“He believes I’m a servant named Ned and will treat me differently if I tell him who I am.

” Would Rufe be so quick to smile or joke if Niam revealed his true identity?

Would he be so open and friendly? Besides, Niam didn’t change his personality much as Ned, giving Rufe an opportunity to know the man without the burden of royal protocol.

“The longer you lie to him, the less he’ll trust you,” Mother scolded. “Eventually, he’ll put together that King Niam is Ned.”

Niam hung his head. “I know.” Guilt twisted his insides.

Mother placed two fingertips under Niam’s chin and lifted until they made eye contact once more. “While you might never see him again, he’s a friend of Yarif’s and Draylon’s. If you sign treaties with the empire, you’ll see them regularly. You don’t want to alienate anyone in their circle.”

“I know, Mother, but no one has ever seen me for me without my title.” Yet, he couldn’t continue to be selfish.

“He’s healing, as are Yarif and Draylon. As much as you’d like to, you can’t keep them. Eventually, they’ll have to return to Renvalle. ”

Niam didn’t reply, the words striking home. His position didn’t allow many friendships. For a little while, he’d fantasized about having ready confidants, people he could be himself with.

Mother kissed Niam’s cheek. “I just don’t want him to take your heart with him when he leaves, son.”

“I’ll tell him. Soon.” Niam retreated to his room with a heavy heart.

In his dreams, Rufe hovered over Niam, scarred body on full display. Niam woke to find spend cooling on his belly. I’ll tell him today.

Despite his resolve, “Ned” visited Rufe again, and again—swearing each time would be the last.